But that was just the beginning of her annoyances. The fact that Biagio was at her father’s favorite restaurant annoyed her to no end. Who did he think he was to just step in like this? Either the man was totally clean and just trying to do his job managing her father’s businesses while he was gone—something she highly doubted—or he had reason to believe that her father was no longer a threat to him. That, she refused to believe. Because she couldn’t.
“You don’t have to stay here,” Tony said, his voice pitched low. “I’ll watch the place. Let you know if anything interesting happens.”
“I need to be here. I need to do something,” she said. A little too honest, maybe. But Tony was more friend than an employee. And she didn’t doubt his ability to keep his mouth shut.
Her mind wandered as she kept her eyes glued to the restaurant across the street. Had Gian noticed her absence yet? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was still arguing with his father. If he had noticed, would he worry about her? Maybe she should’ve left him a note. That would’ve been the right thing to do, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly when she’d slipped out. She’d needed action. Needed to do something.
“Get up. Slow. And keep your hands where I can see them,” a low voice said from behind them.
Shit. She turned slowly, as ordered. Tony did the same, his body tense and ready for a fight.
She recognized the man immediately. He was one of the newer guys in her father’s organization. One that followed Biagio around like a puppy since he started.
The man smiled, an evil grin. “Boss has been looking for you.”
“You don’t say,” she muttered. Tony glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she shook her head. She wasn’t getting Tony—or herself—shot if she could help it.
“Come with me.”
The man tried to get them to go to the back of the restaurant; she could see a clear line the way they were headed.
She turned and faced him. “I’ll talk to Biagio. In the restaurant proper. Maybe I’ll even let him buy me a glass of wine.”
The man frowned. “Boss said to bring you in the back.”
She bared her teeth at him. “I’ll bet the boss didn’t say you could shoot me.” With that, she steeled her spine and altered her route, heading for the front door. Behind her, Biagio’s man muttered expletives and tried to order her back on their prior path. She ignored him. She didn’t want to get shot, but the risk was minimal. Biagio wouldn’t have her shot on the street. Not when he still wanted her. And, most importantly, not while he still tried to secure his power.
Biagio’s man followed her into the restaurant, still muttering angrily under his breath. Ignoring him, Domenica nodded to the hostess and headed back to her family’s normal table.
As if she hadn’t had it memorized since she was twelve years old, she picked up a menu and scanned it while she waited. He didn’t keep her long.
Biagio sat across from her at the table. His expression was a pleasant façade, all teeth and beady eyes. But the red flush crawling up his neck over his cheeks and face gave away his anger.
Good. She liked nothing better than the idea of pissing this man off.
“Domenica, my dear, how nice of you to drop by.” Still more teeth. The man should have been a used car salesman.
“How nice of you to send the invitation,” she said, playing along. The man couldn’t cow her. She wouldn’t allow it. Granted, Tony had been relieved of his gun. And the restaurant wasn’t exactly what she’d call full this time of day. Only one other couple and a few employees lingered about. And she had no doubt Biagio could clear the room in a few seconds if necessary. Biagio’s man lurked behind him, well-armed. She had little doubt that others lurked in the back room as well.
“Have you thought about my offer?”
“The one where I spread my legs for you in exchange for my safety?” If he was shocked by her wording, he didn’t show it. “Not for one second. I find you despicable. And disgusting. And I wouldn’t sleep with you in a million years.”
Finally, a crack.
Biagio stood, his face twisting with rage. Before she could react, he’d rounded the table and grabbed her by her shoulders. His man pulled his gun, keeping it pointed at Tony. From the corner of her eye she could see that Tony looked unsure.
“Stay where you are, Tony,” she commanded. She wouldn’t get the man shot over a little bit of roughing up that she had practically begged for.
“You don’t order him around, you stupid bitch. I’m the Don now.” Biagio spat as he talked, and it took every bit of her willpower not to flinch when flecks touched her face. So gross.
“You’ll never be the Don. You just don’t have the balls for it,” she told Biagio. “You should never have been made a Capo.”
Pain spiked from her cheek, as Biagio slapped her. Tony took another step toward them, and she held out her hand, halting him. Eyes stinging, she met Biagio’s gaze and refused to look down. Rage danced in his eyes, and there was an edge that she didn’t like. Biagio was a lot of things, but she’d bet her whole empire that stable and fully sane weren’t among his qualities.
The door whooshed open, and she heard a ruckus behind her. Her men had arrived.
Unfortunately, so had Biagio’s. They poured out of the back, and shots were fired.
“Fuck!” Tony yelled, grabbing her out of Biagio’s grasp while he was distracted. Together, with the cover from her men, they made it outside.
Biagio followed, his men surrounding him.
She had to stop this. Had to do something to keep it from turning into a bloodbath. How would her father deal with that? Coming back to find she’d gotten half his men killed?
Biagio took a step toward her, and someone—something—roared.
She turned to see Gian. Shifting. Very, very publicly.
Well, fuck.
6
So much for keeping a tight lid on things.
Domenica paced back and forth, while Gian sat almost calmly on the chaise.
They’d made it back to Gian’s family house without incident. Biagio and his men had scattered as soon as Giancarlo finished his transformation from man to dragon. The trouble was, Biagio’s men weren’t the only ones to notice the large dragon in their midst. Word was out. She wasn’t entirely sure that the press would make the leap between Gian’s human identity and the dragon that had been spotted in Little Italy, but she was certain that the people in their world would all know about it sooner rather than later. As to who else that might attract… She wasn’t sure, but she was certain they’d find out soon enough.
“Would you stop pacing?” Gian said, irritation plain in his tone.
“You didn’t have to shift. I had things under control.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “Did you, now?”
She wrung her hands. “Okay, maybe not completely under control.” Sighing heavily, she stopped pacing and went to sit by Gian on the lounge chair. She took his hands in hers. “Thank you for saving me. For saving my father’s men from having to kill each other.”
“You shouldn’t have gone without me,” he said, sounding somewhat mollified by her apology.
“In this case, you’re probably right,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t have to do my own thing sometimes.” She needed him to understand that. Needed him to know how important her freedom was to her. No, she’d never be as free as a bird, as free as her best friend Anna. But she wouldn’t be denied the small freedoms she needed to have a happy life. Not even for Gian.
Gian nodded, expression serious. “I understand.”
A warmth spread from her chest. She thought he might, at that.
“Nothing has gone to plan the last couple of days,” he said, with just a twinge of annoyance in his tone.
“You mean the whole turning into a dragon thing?”
He snorted. “That wasn’t in the plan.”
“You really didn’t know?” She took his hand in hers and squeezed.
A frown touched his lips, and she ached to kiss it away. “No. My father and I talked when I was a teen, about my being adopted. He thought then that I might have a touch of powyr in my genes. But this… I never expected this.”
“How could you? Dragons haven’t exactly been common in…” How long had it been?
“Fifty years,” he said, answering her unspoken question. When she raised a brow at that, he shrugged. “I googled it this morning. Nothing like turning into a giant lizard to get a man researching.”
She pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Yes, after we find your father.”
Warmth radiated from her chest. Even now, faced with an unbelievable life change, Gian thought of her. Touching, and oh, so sexy. She kissed him again, and he smiled against her lips.
A light knock on the sunroom door. And one of Gian’s men cleared his throat in the doorway.
“Yes?” Gian asked, sliding his hand down her jawline.
“There’s someone here to see you, boss. Your dad said you should talk to him.”
Gian frowned, and a jolt of surprise ran through Domenica, too. They hadn’t seen his father during the few hours since their return. Of course, he might just still be pissed by his earlier argument with Gian. Or running himself ragged trying to figure out what the hell to do with a dragon son.
“Very well,” Gian said. Then he gestured to the sunny, plant-filled room around them. “Bring him here, I suppose.”
The man nodded and disappeared. She shared a long glance with Gian until the man reappeared with another man in tow. The man who walked in the sunroom was large, strong looking, and completely unfamiliar to Domenica. Blond hair and wide shoulders. A suit that looked as though it had been actually made in Italy by a bespoke tailor. Money and power.
The man locked eyes with Gian after a cursory glance in her direction. His instant dismissal wasn’t offensive, she’d known when she saw him that this man wasn’t here for her.
“Giancarlo Spadaro?” the man asked.
Gian nodded slowly, his eyes never moving away from the stranger.
“I understand you shifted into a dragon today.” The man smiled.
Then he turned to Domenica. “And we will need to test your blood to determine your man’s source of his shift.”
“What?” She glanced at Gian, but he looked as flummoxed as she felt.
“Your confusion is understandable, given your upbringing.” He gestured to the house around them. “Among humans. But, Giancarlo wouldn’t have been able to change without first finding his mate. Pure odds say that you aren’t completely human, either, Miss Todaro.”
Dread swirled together with excitement in her stomach at his words. She wasn’t entirely human, either? That was a story she would need to get from her father.
When she found him.
Worry added itself to the knot in her stomach and Gian wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
“Once we establish sure draconian background using blood tests, we will issue you both an invitation to Homeland.”
“Homeland?” Gian asked.
The man nodded gravely. “Our little part of the world that is free from non-dragons—except mates, of course.”
“No.” Domenica shook her head. “We aren’t going anywhere. At least, not until we find my father. Not until we sort things out here.” She looked up at Giancarlo, and to her relief, he nodded firmly, agreeing with her.
“She is right. We aren’t going anywhere with you, stranger.”
The man arched a brow at that but simply shrugged. “Very well. But we must still confirm your bloodlines.”
Domenica herself was awfully curious about that. His arms still around her, Gian said, “Very well.”
Domenica woke from a most blissful dream, then opened her eyes and looked at the heated body cradling hers.
Not a dream.
In many ways, she still felt like she was getting to know the man that she had agreed to marry. Yet in others, she felt like she understood him perfectly. And he understood her as well. She traced his jawline with her fingertip, and his eyes snapped open.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured.
He arched a brow at her. “What will you do with me now that I’m awake? And hungry.”
He pounced on her, and she giggled. It was a long while before they managed to get out of bed. And together, they meandered down to the kitchen.
“Are you thinking cereal, or should we actually cook something?” she asked, trying not to sound hopeful about the cereal. She was talented in many ways, but cooking wasn’t one of them.
Gian gestured for her to be silent, and she stilled. Listening.
Finally, she heard it. Arguing, from the sounds of it, although she couldn’t make out many of the words. But there was no mistaking her Giancarlo’s name.
She followed Gian out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the Spadaros’ impressive entryway. There, Don Spadaro argued with a tall, lean woman. The Don was obviously upset and trying to keep quiet about it. But his aggravated whispers did a piss-poor job of keeping whatever this was a secret.
The woman’s gaze moved to them as they entered, and the Don turned to look at them as well. The woman’s eyes slid over her, and then Gian, assessing.
Domenica narrowed her eyes and did some assessing herself. The woman was in her mid-thirties if Domenica had to guess. She was tall—at least five foot ten and wearing heeled boots, besides. Her long black hair fell straight down to the middle of her back. And her leather jacket and steely eyes said warrior, despite the dressy clothes beneath.
“Here’s the couple now,” the woman observed. Her gaze flashed back to the Don. “You cannot keep me from them. He is your adopted son, true. But he is one of ours now that he has refused the invitation.”
“Refuse the invitation?” Domenica asked, then wished she hadn’t. The woman’s cool gaze flashed over her, and Giancarlo went stiff next to her. Whoever this woman was, she had a feeling that she knew something Domenica didn’t.
“The invitation to visit Homeland.” Her lips quirked. “Of course, getting into Homeland is sometimes far easier than leaving. However, since you have turned down the invitation, you are now my problem to deal with.”
“Excuse me—” Domenica started, then stopped talking when Gian touched her shoulder. She looked up at him, and he shook his head.
The woman stood straighter. “I represent the Shadow Mob, of course. I am called Lydia.”
It took every bit of willpower Domenica had to keep her expression from revealing the shock she felt. Of course. The mysterious Shadow Mob wasn’t unknown to her, although she had never known anyone to have any direct dealings with them. Perhaps her father did, but if so, he kept close counsel on that fact. They were to the Powyrkin world what the regular mob was to the human world. She didn’t know a lot about the Shadow Mob—she’d wager few humans did—but she knew enough to be nervous about the prospect of joining them.
“What do you want with us?” Gian asked.
“Want from you? Nothing. What I require of you is that you either go to Homeland, as offered, in the next seven days, or you will be required to join the Shadow Mob.” Lydia smiled, all teeth. “We do not follow bloodlines like the human mob,” she added, her voice dismissive. “You will have to fight to be placed into a family. Your powyr will determine your rank.”
“Fuck that,” Gian said. “I have a family. I won’t be placed into one of yours.”
Her smile widened, and she let out a small chuckle. “You have no choice.” She glanced at Domenica. “Neither of you do.”
“Excuse me?” Domenica asked as Gian stepped between her and Lydia, snarling.
Lydia didn’t look impressed. “I have a unique ability—to sense the species of those I encounter. You are also Powyrkin, Domenica. Dragon, like Gian.”
Domenica’s mouth dropped open and she couldn’t catch her breath. A d
ragon? Her?
“Don’t look so shocked. You have a good deal of human blood inside you as well. You won’t shift, but you carry powyr inside of you,” Lydia said.
Well, that was a relief, anyway. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about shifting into something mean, and hungry, and as large as a house.
“None of this matters,” Gian insisted. “We have our home here, our family here. We don’t need to join the Shadow Mob.”
“What you need is of little consequence. We require your compliance. Or, you can go to Homeland and forget all about the mobster life.”
“Very funny,” Domenica said, dryly. As if they could both so easily leave the only world they’d ever known behind.
Lydia grinned, still watching Gian. “If you worry about being under someone else’s power, then I hope you fight well enough to become a Don yourself.”
Then Lydia turned on her heel and waved at them as she headed toward the door. “Seven days,” she reminded them, then shut the door behind her.
Domenica watched, taking care to keep her expression mild, as Tony tortured one of Biagio’s loyals for information. He’d broken two of the man’s fingers already, and while she knew the necessity of it, she didn’t particularly care to watch. But she refused to feel guilty. Because that’s how things had to be done sometimes. And her father’s life may very well be on the line.
She’d done a lot of things over the last week that she wasn’t particularly proud of. They’d knocked on a lot of doors, and Tony had broken more than a few noses. All in order to find her father. But there had still been no sign of him or Giovanni, his close friend and bodyguard.
A quick rap came from the door and she recognized the pattern as one she’d taught to Gian. Still, she opened the door cautiously.
Sure enough, Gian waited for her on the other side. Irritation touched his expression, although it was subtle. They hadn’t been together long, but she was already learning his subtle tells.
He spared a brief glance for the man they were roughing up. “Come with me.”
Dragon Mob: A Powyrworld Urban Fantasy Romance (The Lost Dragon Princes Book 3) Page 6