Dominic: a Dark Mafia Romance (Benedetti Brothers Book 2)

by Natasha Knight

  I would have collapsed, but he slid out of me and drew me backward to sit between his legs, my back to his chest, his back to the wall. The cold tiles felt good against my sweaty, hot skin. Dominic held me to him. His breath warmed my ear. Neither of us spoke for a long time. I wondered what he was thinking. If he was trying to figure out a way to keep me from going. He could leave me behind and go himself. He could make me do anything he wanted me to do. For all my talk, I knew he would decide. It came down to basics. He was bigger than me. He was stronger than me. He could make me do whatever he wanted.

  “I want to go with you. Please, Dominic,” I said.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “You’ll keep me safe,” I said, wondering who was more surprised by the words, Dominic or myself.

  19

  Dominic

  I’d lost my mind, surely.

  I glanced at Gia sitting beside me, her face closed off, both of us silent. A thick air of anxiety hung between and all around us, both of us tense for what would come. How would I be treated? How much did people know? And why in hell did I give a fuck? Why in hell was I going anyway?

  The knowledge of Franco’s death settled like a heavy black cloak around me, inside me, swallowing me up. I didn’t know what I should feel. Hatred? Anger? But all I felt was regret. And a sense of loss like I’d never experienced before.

  It was over.

  He was dead.

  There was no going back. No making amends. No saying sorry.

  Salvatore told me he’d asked about me. Had he truly regretted what had happened? Had he regretted telling me like that? All those years, I’d thought he’d loved me. I had. It was maybe stupid, but I had believed it. Losing that love, I realized now, it had broken a part of me.

  And through that break seeped a darkness that had oozed into my soul. Made me into a man I no longer recognized. But then I found Gia, bruised and afraid, huddled in a corner of that decrepit room. The moment she set her burning gaze on me, she saw me. She saw right through me. All the broken pieces of me. And now that she knew, now that I’d told her my story—the first time I’d ever done that—it was like those pieces slowly fused together again, even if it was inside out and backward, scar tissue barely covering too many razor-sharp edges.

  I was no longer the man I had once been.

  But I was stronger. I may be harder. I may be darker, but I was stronger. And I would never be fooled again. I would never be weak again.

  Nerves twisted my gut as we neared the house in the Adirondacks. His favorite place. The last time I was here had been to celebrate his birthday.

  I turned to Gia. “You do as I say. Every word, understand? You do not leave my side, and you do exactly as I say.”

  “You told me that already, and I promised I would.”

  Gia’s gaze bounced from me to the road and back. And even as she acted tough as nails, the shadows beneath her eyes and the fact she’d refused to eat told of her anxiety.

  “What about the auction?” she asked.

  I grinned. That piece did truly give me joy. “I took care of it.”

  She tilted her head to the side, waiting for more.

  “Watch them all at the funeral tomorrow. We’ll see just who is involved.”

  I wouldn’t say more yet.

  We drove the last fifteen minutes in silence. As we neared the gates of the house, I saw several cars already lined the driveway. I parked behind the last one, recognizing several of the vehicles. I switched off the engine and took a deep breath. Gia’s hand touched mine, startling me. She didn’t say anything but looked at me with those eyes that seemed to know much more than spoken words.

  I broke the gaze. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  We stepped out of the SUV at the same time. I tucked a pistol into the back of my jeans, making sure my jacket shielded it. Gia had hers in her purse, although we’d run out of time for those lessons. Leaving our bags in the trunk, I went to Gia’s side and took her hand. It felt cold and a little clammy. Strange enough, it made me stand taller, giving me strength enough for both of us.

  “Whatever you do, do not show fear,” I whispered.

  She didn’t deny she felt it this time. She simply nodded as we approached the foreboding double doors.

  Without hesitation, I pushed on the doorbell. Last time I was here, I’d walked in, using my own key to enter. That key sat in my pocket today.

  To my surprise, Salvatore opened the door, as if he’d been there waiting for me to arrive. We both stopped. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and he gave me a small smile and a nod, holding out his hand.

  I took it, meeting my brother’s firm grip with my own as he pulled me in for a hug, patting my back.

  “Good. You did good to come.”

  He released me. I looked at him, saw how much more gray was now mixed with the black of his close-cut beard, saw more lines around his eyes and mouth, not lines of worry or of a hard life. No. Lines of happiness. His skin glowed bronze, a byproduct of living happily under the sun.

  Lucia turned the corner, looking tanned but otherwise just the same apart from her rounded belly protruding from the close-fitting dress she wore. She came to stand beside her husband, and I saw how his face changed, how his smile grew, how his gaze had brightened as he’d followed her path across the room.

  How I felt, though—it was different this time.

  It wasn’t with envy that I looked at them. Jealousy had given way to something else. I didn’t know when that had happened, but I was conscious of how my hand wrapped tighter around Gia’s waist as I pulled her closer to me.

  Salvatore’s gaze moved to Gia while Lucia’s found mine.

  “Lucia,” I said, giving her a short nod. “You look beautiful. Pregnancy becomes you.”

  “Dominic,” she said, squeezing a little closer to Salvatore. “I’m glad you came. For Salvatore.” There was no missing the meaning of her words. She hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d done. For any of it. Not for abandoning her sister, her niece. Not for almost killing the man she loved.

  I understood that and accepted my responsibility. It would take more than me showing up to win Lucia’s favor.

  “You must be Gianna,” Salvatore said, studying Gia.

  “Just Gia,” she replied, taking his hand.

  Lucia’s gaze moved to Gia’s clothes, a pair of jeans and a sweater. Gia stepped out of my grasp and did a little twirl.

  “They’re yours,” she said to Lucia. “I was in a bit of a bind. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “They look great on you,” Lucia said. “I’m Lucia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your bro—”

  Gia shook her head. Lucia stopped.

  Salvatore’s gaze returned to mine. “You came from Saddle River?”

  I nodded.

  “Was it you who bought the house outright?”

  Again, I nodded, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a very long time.

  He studied me but didn’t say anything more about it. “Come in. I think Roman has you staying in your old room. He didn’t mention a guest.”

  “Gia stays with me.” Even I heard the possessive tone of that.

  Lucia and Salvatore exchanged a quick glance but stepped back to let us in.

  “How are Effie and your sister?” I asked Lucia, feeling like an asshole actually. A real asshole. A father who is a no-show.

  “Great. Luke has been great for both of them.” Her delivery put me in my place.

  “Lucia,” Salvatore cut in brusquely, giving her hand a squeeze.

  Lucia cleared her throat. “When Effie heard we’d see you, she wanted to make sure to send you some of your favorite cookies. I have a tin for you upstairs. Not that you deserve it.”

  “Enough,” Salvatore said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck in warning.

  She turned her stubborn face to his, and their gazes locked. Salvatore must have squeezed a little because Lucia narrowed her eyes but bit her lip.
Probably to stop herself from talking.

  “She’s right,” I said. “I’m a shit of a dad. Lucia’s just speaking the truth.”

  “We’re not here to fight. We’re here for a funeral. Our father’s funeral.”

  “Not—”

  “He raised you as his own. And he regretted that night. Put your anger aside, at least for now. The man is dead, for Christ’s sake.”

  Salvatore and I locked gazes. Our hands fisted.

  Gia cleared her throat as Roman walked out of the study. What Roman felt at seeing me, I didn’t know. He’d long ago learned to conceal any emotion from his face. But when his gaze fell on Gia, I saw the infinitesimal change in his eyes, that spark of surprise.

  No. Of shock.

  “Dominic,” he said, extending his hand to mine, drawing me in for a brief, cool hug. “I know Franco would be glad you came.”

  “You’re looking well, Uncle.” He did. His suit was more expensive than any he used to wear when he wasn’t head of the family, and I didn’t miss the Benedetti family ring on his finger. As if he had any right.

  “I didn’t realize you’d be bringing a guest.”

  He turned to Gia. He studied her closely but revealed nothing of how he felt.

  “Gianna Castellano,” Roman said, addressing her.

  His mouth moved into a smile. It almost touched his eyes.

  “I think you were this big when I last saw you.” He gestured to his waist. “Franco would be pleased to have you here.”

  Gia shook his hand, betraying nothing even as I felt her tense beside me.

  “You know my uncle Roman?” I asked her.

  Her gaze flickered to mine, perhaps remembering what I’d said I’d do to him the night I made her promise to pull the trigger on me when it was over. When she had her revenge.

  She cleared her throat and returned her gaze to his. “I vaguely recall the name, but I’m sorry, I—”

  “I’d be surprised if you remembered me. You were a child,” Roman filled in.

  “Did you know my father?” she asked.

  “I did.”

  I could see from Roman’s face he did not expect or welcome Gia’s questions.

  “And my brother, Mateo?” she pressed.

  I released Gia’s waist to take her hand, squeezing a warning.

  “Yes. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “And I’m sorry for yours,” she managed.

  Roman nodded. “I’ll have a room made up—”

  “She’ll stay with me. Have the maid send up extra towels,” I ordered.

  For the briefest moment, Roman’s eyes went flat and dark, and for the first time, I thought I glimpsed the real Roman. But I’d always spoken this way to him. I’d always felt superior and never hid the fact.

  “Of course,” he said. A couple walked up the front steps just then, and he excused himself. The four of us stepped to the side, each of us watching every move anyone made.

  “Did you bring your brood?” I asked Salvatore, not hearing any children running around.

  “No. They’re staying with Isabella and Luke.”

  “I don’t like this,” Lucia whispered loud enough in Salvatore’s direction for Gia and I to hear.

  “We’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll fly home tomorrow as soon as the will has been read,” Salvatore said.

  A maid came then, and Roman instructed her to take Gia and me up to our room.

  “Why don’t you go ahead? I need to talk to my brother.”

  “Lucia, maybe you can go help Gia,” Salvatore started.

  “I know when I’m being excused,” Lucia said. “Come on. You look like you like this about as much as I do,” she said to Gia. The two of them turned and followed the maid up the stairs.

  Salvatore and I walked toward the dining room.

  “A man named Henderson who claims he was a friend of father has requested a secret meeting with us,” he said in a quiet voice. “He said it’s urgent. He wants to meet before the funeral if we can. Definitely prior to the reading of the will.”

  “Why?”

  “Another body turned up. I’m not sure if Roman is aware just yet.”

  “Body?”

  “Same brand. Ours.” He paused. “He was a federal agent. Henderson believes he was Mateo Castellano’s source.”

  “A fucking federal agent? Branded with the Benedetti name?”

  Salvatore nodded.

  “Who is this guy, Henderson?”

  “I’m not sure. He did some work for father over the last few months. Roman doesn’t know about him apparently.”

  “Urgent meeting?”

  Salvatore nodded. “I think we should go before the funeral. We’ll leave together, the four of us, and meet at Henderson’s home office. He was adamant no one would know. He seemed…nervous. Rumors are circulating, Dominic. The family has weakened, and with father’s death, our enemies are becoming less and less subtle. The method of Mateo Castellano’s death has brought unwanted attention to the family. And now, with a federal agent’s dead body turning up, there will be more.”

  “I heard the recording Mateo made. At least what he got out before he was killed.”

  “And?”

  “Scava names Roman. They were in this thing together. Roman is part of the human trafficking ring.”

  “How? Father would never have approved that.”

  “Maybe he was working alone. I know that was one thing the family did not dip their toes into. That’s a whole other ballgame.”

  Salvatore nodded. Franco had always been adamant about that. I didn’t know the reasons behind it but hadn’t ever given it much thought.

  “From what I could make out, Scava wants people to believe it was Roman who put the hit on Mateo. And now, I assume the federal agent as well. Why? If they were in on this thing together, why? Unless he wanted Roman out.”

  We looked over at Roman, who appeared out of another room just then, talking to an older woman with a bereaved expression on his face.

  “Snake.”

  “Be careful, Dominic. Don’t let on that you know. Although bringing Mateo’s sister may have clued him in. Why did you do that? Not really your smartest move.”

  “No. But I wasn’t going to leave her alone either. Victor Scava wants her. He’s apparently already bought her. The auction is just a formality. A humbling.”

  Salvatore flinched, his mouth curling in distaste.

  “She stays by my side,” I added.

  “If I didn’t know any better—”

  “She has my protection, that’s all.”

  “What’s going on with the auction?”

  I grinned. “I’m guessing phones will start lighting up tomorrow around the time of the church service.”

  “You called it in?”

  I nodded.

  “Anyone know where the information came from?”

  “No.” I paused, and we both turned to watch our uncle. “Roman’s involvement will be confirmed tomorrow.”

  “Let’s go upstairs. I know Lucia doesn’t want to be alone.” He paused. “Memories of the last time,” he said, his gaze sliding toward the dining-room.

  I recalled and didn’t miss the note of shame in my brother’s words, in his face, or in his behavior.

  “I just need to get our bags,” I said.

  “I’ll help you.”

  Salvatore and I carried the two overnight bags upstairs and parted ways at my door. I watched Salvatore disappear down the hallway and into his room. After a brief knock, I opened my old bedroom door to find Gia standing by the window, biting her fingernail.

  “Lots of people coming,” she said.

  “It’ll just be family tonight. You don’t need to look for Scava.”

  She picked up the tin of cookies that I assumed Lucia had given her.

  “Here. These are for you. And there’s a note.”

  I took the envelope and the tin out of her hand and sat on the edge of the bed, just looking down a
t the things on my lap. I touched the lid, tracing the brightly-colored pattern there. Then I opened it to find a pile of chocolate-chip cookies. I offered Gia one. She shook her head and watched me, one hand at her neck, her fingers rubbing her chin. I chose a cookie and bit into it. My throat closed up, seven years’ worth of emotion I’d kept bottled up coming up now, threatening to choke me.

  It took all I had to swallow the bite before I set the rest of the cookie back in the tin, not tasting a thing.

  “I’ll give you a minute,” Gia said, disappearing into the bathroom.

  I set the tin aside and took the letter out of the envelope. Her handwriting was pretty, very different to that of the small child who’d written in huge block letters way back when. Now, she wrote in a neat script.

  Dear Uncle Dominic,

  Thank you for all the toys and clothes and things you send me every month. When I heard Lucia would see you, I wanted her to give this to you.

  Mom told me why you had to go away like you did. She told me the real story of what happened that night. I want you to know that I don’t think Salvatore is still mad at you. I know because sometimes I get up for a drink of water and overhear things. Not that I’m eavesdropping or something. I just overhear by accident. Besides, I think Uncle Salvatore just misses you, and you should know that. No one is mad at you. We all miss you, especially me. Well, maybe Aunt Lucia is a little mad, but she just needs to get to know you like I know you, and the only way she can do that is if you come for visits. You can even stay with us. And maybe I am a little mad too, since you just up and left without saying bye to me. But I’ll forgive you if you come. Promise. Okay?