21

DOMINIC
“Yo, Dominic!” Vincenzo Lucchese steps out from behind two buff tattooed men that are clearly his protection. “You’re here. At last, am I right? Follow me.”
The Lucchese HQ is madness. Like a labyrinth of chaos, but I’m sure that’s just how Vincenzo likes it. Only those in the know can navigate it.
That doesn’t include me.
I’m only a hired guy.
On the outside, looking in.
“…don’t fuck around with me, asshole.” The booming voice coming from an office-looking room grabs my attention. There, I find two of Vincenzo’s guys looming over a bloodied mess underneath them. “Tell me what I need to know, and you can get out of here already. You don’t need to die a pathetic heap on the floor like this.”
Urgh, gross.
I’m no stranger to violence. But that is going to be one hell of a mess to clean up.
Blood is much easier to wash off concrete than carpet.
But I can’t focus on that any longer. Not when there’s so much else to look at.
An indoor shooting range echoes with the staccato rhythm of gunfire. The acrid scent of gun powder hangs in the air as we press forward.
Crazy.
This whole world is crazy.
I think I’m better off on the outside looking in.
I wouldn’t want to be one ofthesemen. I like my freedom and the ability to make my own decisions too much.
The men outside Vincenzo’s office look even more intimidating to those on the outside of the building. But I never cower to assholes like that. All for show, in my opinion.
“So, Dominic,” Vincenzo declares with a much colder tone as he swings his office door open. “What the fuck is going on? Where the hell is this girl, huh? Weeks! It’s been weeks since I gave you the job, and she’s been missing for most of that time. What the fuck is happening? I have hardly been able to get hold of you as well, which youknowpisses me off.”
I jut my chin out confidently, trying to pass the lie off well. “I heard that she escaped to Ireland. Have you not heard that?”
Vincenzo immediately shakes his head. “The Genoveses are in uproar. If she was back in Ireland, then they would be the first to know about it. She’s still here. The Genoveses are here as well, looking for her. Taking up space inmystreets with their men and their homes. Assholes. Why would they be in New York if she was in Ireland? I don’t know where you’re getting your info from, but it’s shit.”
He narrows his eyes at me, suspicion rolling off of him in waves. Fuck. I guess I’m not doing such a good job after all.
Plus I now have to deal with the new information that Isabella’s family are here, looking for her.
We really are in trouble.
“Well, I’ve also heard from whispers on the street that someone else took her first…”
Vincenzo growls angrily, his cheeks shining red with rage. “Fuck that. No one else can have her. That’s utter bullshit. Do you know what’ll happen if someone else has her? Seriously. You need to be better than this. You need to keep me in the know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been busy hunting her down. I’m determined to find her. Wherever she is.”
Vincenzo scoffs and shakes his head while he walks over to his impressive drink collection. I suppose it’s a good thing that he pours two.
I’m not out on my ass.
Yet.
“You need to get hold of her, Dominic,” he warns. “Within a week. Shit will hit the fan if we don’t find her. Shit is already hitting the fan if I’m honest with you.”
I sip my drink, wondering how much I can ask.
I need to know everything, but I also can’t give myself away.
“So… how soon?” I ask tentatively. “What shit are we talking about?”
“The Genoveses owe me a lot of money.” Vincenzo’s expression darkens. “And this is my answer. They won’t pay me back any other way, so this is what I’m going to do. Sell Isabella back to them. Or to the Falescos, I don’t give a shit who wants her. I know she’s supposed to marry that Risty guy, right? That’s what rumors say, anyway. So I can get my money from them instead. As long as I get it, I don’t care who pays up, you know?”
“Oh… I haven’t heard any of that.”
Vincenzo won’t see through that lie. Why would I have heard a damn thing?
I’m on the outside looking in.
“Yeah, well that’s why I need her. And I have to have hernow. I don’t know where that bitch is hiding, but I need her with me now.”
I nod along, trying not to show any emotion here.
Feelings have no place in this world.
If only I’d followed that rule…
“Well, I will up my game,” I promise Vincenzo, hoping he doesn’t see the lie. “I will have my ears to the streets and see what I can pick up on. Nothing will get by me.”
“Thatiswhy I hired you, Dominic,” Vincenzo reminds me. “Because you’re the best of the best, right? You usually get things done quick.”
Shit.
I knew he’d be pissed off with me, but this sucks.
Not just because of my reputation anymore… that doesn’t matter as much as it used to.
Isabella matters more.
“Well, you better get out of here, am I right?” Vincenzo shoots me a pointed look. “You need to go and find this woman before she slips through your fingers. If someone else gets their hands on her, then we’re fucked.”
I’mfucked, that’s what he really means.
If I don’t do a good job on this, then that’ll be the end of me.
I knew that when I signed up for this job-it’s always the deal-but I didn’t expect to fail at it as epically as I have.
Now, I can’t evenbeginto imagine walking in here with Isabella and handing her over for Vincenzo and Risty to do what they want.
She’s not their plaything.
Isabella deserves so much more than that.
“Yep, good. I will see you soon then.”
“Keep in touch, Dominic. I don’t want to struggle to get hold of you again. That wasn’t cool.”
I hang my head low in mock agreement. “Yeah, sorry about that, boss. It won’t happen again.”
Respect.
That’s all these assholes want.
Respect, whether it’s real or not.
I know how to play the game.
“I will speak to you soon.” I smile as I back away from him. “With some good news.”
“Yeah, it better be. I can’t wait much longer, all right?”
Fuck, what the hell am I going to do? How can I handle this in the best way possible, keeping everyone happy and alive?
Impossible.
If Vincenzo doesn’t get his money, we’re all dead.
The gunshots are unpleasant to listen to as well, as I’m trying to leave this hell hole.
My shoulders keep rolling up around my ears.
Fuck, why is it necessary to have a God damn shooting range in here?
I know they want to train up their men, but hearing the ruckus is a trigger…
My palms get sweaty.
All of a sudden, my heart is thundering so hard it feels like it might burst out of my rib cage at any given moment.
It doesn’t matter how hard I suck in air, I can’t seem to fill up my lungs.
I’m shuddering all over. It’s painful actually. I don’t like this feeling one bit.
Shit.
Not here, not now.
I don’t want the PTSD to affect menow.
Not at the Lucchese HQ…
I want to get out of here without anything dumb happening.
With my head on my shoulders.
The hardest thing about the memories from my time in the military is knowing that while I was on the battlefield, shielding myself from the never-ending bullets whizzing through the air, is that while I was doing everything that I could to keep me and my platoon alive, my wife was dying.
Justine was in a car wreck, dying.
I was told that it was quick and that she didn’t suffer, but that’s not how I feel inside. Every time I close my eyes, she’s screaming and in agony. Crying out for while I’m a million miles away, unaware.
Struggling in my own way.
I try not to crumble, but it’s hard to remain upright.
Mostly because I feel like I’m on the verge of making another mistake…
By the time I burst free from the building and finally get the cold air inside of me, I realize that this is all a warning.
This isn’t PTSD. It’s a reminder of what I need to do. What my purpose is.
I couldn’t help Justine, but I can help Isabella if I choose to.
I mean, can Ireallyhand Isabella over to these guys? Knowing how I feel about her. With Henry and Risty in play as well?
I don’t know much about Dimitry Genovese, but I’m starting to think that maybe I should just go to him, speak with him, see if he can help me out.
Would Isabella want that?
Does it even matter anymore if this is the only way that I can keep her alive?
Urgh, I knew that meeting was going to be a challenge, but I didn’t know it’d leave methismessy. Now my thoughts are all over the place… I don’t know what to do with myself. I think I need a drink.
I stumble into the nearest bar, trying to calm my racing heart down.
Fuck, I can’t let Isabella see me like this.
“Whiskey, please,” I bark at the bartender as I perch on the bar stool.
I glug the amber-colored liquid down as fast as I can, needing my brain to shut the fuck up already.
All I can think about is Isabella, she has pretty much consumed me. She’s brought light to my dark life, she’s become the warm rays of sunshine I didn’t even know I needed.
She deserves so much better than all of this.
Than the cabin.
Than these men.
Than Me.
I wish I was good enough for her, but that’s never going to happen, is it?
How can I keep her safe and make sure she lives the life she deserves? I don’t know if I have the strength and power to achieve that all on my own.
“Another one.”
I’m not supposed to be drinking-it’s so much easier when I have a clear head on my shoulders and I can concentrate on what’s next-but I have to have something to take the edge off.
The edge is getting too hard to deal with.
I wish I could go back in time to turn my feelings off, to do this as a professional job like I was supposed to.
But truth be told, I can’t even imagine that now. I can’t picture myself not knowing Isabella and handing her over to Vincenzo.
I’m in this too deep, ever since I acted like I was William Bonell.
This is what I get for having a heart, and for following it, too. For not closing off my emotions forever like Henry has, and I’m sure Vincenzo and the other mob bosses as well.
I should have chosen a long time ago.
My heart or my career.
I thought I did choose. After Justine, I didn’t think there was a way back into my emotions, but it seems like I was wrong.
I have done many things wrong, but for now, I want to do at least one thing right.
But I think I’m going to need a couple more drinks first…