16

Chapter 16
Dominic
“I’m glad you’re still with us,” Lorenzo says hoarsely. He’s got a cigarette pinched between his lips, blowing smoke out through his nostrils. Even though his webcam quality is shit, I can still make out the glint of the fat gold chains around his neck and the greasiness of his thinning hair.
The power of modern technology means we don’t have to meet in one location. It’s smarter and safer this way. I can’t count how many times the cops have raided in-person meetings and thrown our big players behind bars in one fell swoop. It’s taken a bit of convincing, especially with some of the older capos who are set in their ways, but the advantages of hosting a call are as plain as day.
“I’ve spoken to Renato,” Bianchi, a capo whose territory encompasses the Bronx, informs us as he takes a big swig of beer. “He says he wasn’t the one who called the attack.”
“Bullshit,” I hiss. “His men specifically said Renato wanted me brought in alive.”
“Calm yourself, Costello,” Russo, one of the capos in charge of the northern districts, says to me. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but we can’t have you flying off the handle.”
“Renato’s men attacked my man in broad daylight,” Lorenzo snarls. “Not to mention made a move on my laundromats. If this isn’t a declaration of war, I don’t know what is.”
“There has to be an explanation,” Di Paola, yet another capo, says reasonably. “Perhaps a few of Renato’s men have gone rogue?”
Lorenzo growls. “If that’s the case, Renato doesn’t deserve his fucking rank. What kind of caporegime can’t control his men?”
“We need to sort this out before we have a full-out war on our hands,” Bianchi says. “The last thing we need right now is in-fighting. The Russians and the Irish have been waiting for their chance to strike. If they sense a
weakness in our alliance, they’ll no doubt use it as an opportunity to claim our territory.”
“I want Renato’s head on a fucking pike!” Lorenzo bellows.
Russo clicks his tongue. “You know, none of this would have happened if you weren’t spending all your time in Atlantic City.”
“The fuck did you say?”
“You’ve left your right-hand man completely exposed.” “Dominic can handle himself. Ain’t that right, Dom?”
I press my lips into a thin line, staring at the desktop screen. I nod once, but I don’t say anything. This meeting is getting us nowhere. Lorenzo might be my captain, but he’s always been too much of a hothead to be a proper leader. His sharp tongue and quick temper have landed us in hot water more than once, but I’m in no position to argue with him.
While the capos argue amongst themselves about how to handle the situation, my mind drifts. I wonder if Arin and Felicia are settled in. Elio’s been texting me occasionally with updates, but I haven’t been able to check my phone since the meeting started. Hopefully Arin and her daughter find everything to their liking.
Our daughter.
I still can’t believe it. It all happened so fast. One second, I’m a carefree bachelor, and the next I’ve got a four-year-old child I didn’t know about. My mother’s probably going to lose her mind when she realizes she finally has a grandchild.
I clench my hands. I don’t know the first thing about being a father. I don’t have a nurturing bone in my body. Corralling and ordering a team of thirty-some associates doesn’t count as being fatherly, either. I can’t exactly treat a little girl the same why I treat the men under my command. Those skills simply aren’t transferable.
If anything happens to my daughter, I will kill you myself.
The corner of my lip lifts at the memory of my little spitfire. I don’t know if Arin knows this but seeing her all fired up like that really turns me on. Hopefully I’ll be able to control myself now that we’re living under one roof. It’s hard enough keeping my hands off her, but now that she’s right down the hall from me, this is going to prove distracting as hell.
“We’ll reconvene tomorrow evening,” one of the capos says. “We need more information before we jump to conclusions.”
Lorenzo’s face is bright red, the vein at his temple bulging out of his
skull. “Now wait just a fucking second—”
One by one, the capos hang up until it’s only Lorenzo and me left on the call.
“Those fucking assholes,” he spits, lighting up yet another cigarette. It’s his fifth one in under twenty minutes. “You can see what they’re trying to do, can’t you? They’re trying to push me out.”
I remain perfectly still. “I don’t think that’s true, sir.”
“Of course it’s true! None of them listen to me. None of them show me the respect I deserve.” My captain takes a long drag, smoke rushing past his lips. “None of them want to make a move against Renato because they know how close he is with the sottocapo. They won’t jump on him until they have hard proof.”
“They might have a point,” I say.
Lorenzo’s nostrils flare. “Are you fucking kidding me, Costello? His men attacked you and your woman. We need to take action, not sit around and wait for the bastardo to take us out.”
I grit my teeth. Lorenzo doesn’t mention Arin by name, but I don’t like that he knows about her. Ignoring the burning sensation in my chest, I say, “With all due respect, sir, retaliation will cost us a lot of men. If Renato really is trying to make a move on your territory, it’d be wiser for the sottocapo to sort him out.”
My capo snorts. “We’ll be dust before Sal decides to get off his fat ass to do something. No, Costello. We’re not going to sit around and wait for Renato to walk all over us.”
A cold ball of steel weighs heavily in the pit of my stomach. “What do you want to do?”
“We’re going to hit him back,” he says. “He’s got those warehouses down by the harbor.”
“You want to claim them for yourself?”
“No. I want you to take a team down there and destroy them.”
I shake my head. “Renato has millions of dollars’ worth of weapons stashed there.”
“Exactly,” Lorenzo cackles. “If he thinks he can fuck with me, he has another think coming. He won’t be able to survive that kind of financial loss. Once he’s taken the hit, he won’t have the resources or the backing to keep coming after us. It’ll take him out of the running and out of Sal’s favor.”
“What if they find out it was us?” I ask, struggling to sit still.
This isn’t good. I can’t disobey a direct order from my captain, regardless of whether or not his plan is suicidal. Renato’s a greedy son of a bitch, but he’s no slouch. The man’s got a loyal base of associates, control of the harbor, and a quarter of the police force in his pocket. Even if I were to put together a big enough team to take the warehouses by force, we’d be looking at a staggering number of casualties.
“They’re not gonna find out,” Lorenzo says, as if it’s truly that simple. “Take care of it by the end of the week.”
“Sir, with all due respect—”
“Do it, Costello. That’s an order.” The call ends.
“Well, fuck,” I grumble.
* * *
It’s well past one in the morning by the time I return home. Johnny, who’s been posted on guard duty, stands to full attention. His arm is in a hefty cast, a few scrapes on his face from his own shootout, but apart from that, he seems to be making a speedy recovery.
“Welcome home, signor,” he says. “Report.”
“It’s been quiet,” Johnny informs me. “Elio ordered them some pizzas around five. The little one was in bed by seven thirty. Ms. Wilson’s friend, Lana, left around nine. Elio left not long after.”
I nod. “Good. How are you holding up?” Johnny smiles. “I’m well, sir.”
“Don’t hesitate to ask for relief if you need it. A couple of the boys are downstairs keeping watch at the main entrance.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you for your concern.”
I pat him once on his good arm before stepping past him. He’s not in good enough shape to be working his usual collection rounds, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to bench him. Now that Arin and Felicia are here, I figure
Johnny might appreciate being placed on guard duty. It certainly beats sitting around with nothing to do. Men like us aren’t built to do that.
My apartment is silent and cold, the only light coming from the dim silver glow of the moon through the crack in the curtains. Evidence of their earlier pizza party can be found in my kitchen, several cardboard boxes stacked high on the kitchen counter. There are a few errant toys strewn about in the living room and two sets of footprints on my leather couch. It’s pretty obvious who they belong to.
I swear to God I’m going to kill Elio one day.
My skin prickles. It’s strange, knowing I’m no longer the only one who calls this place home. Carefully, I stride down the hall towards the child’s room.
No, not the child. Felicia. My daughter.
For a moment, I debate whether I should peek inside. She’s probably fast asleep, but curiosity simmers in my chest. I open the door a crack but remain on my side of the hall. There’s a star-shaped night light on, filling the room with the soft warm glow of white. Felicia is fast asleep, bundled up in her new sheets.
The longer I stare, the more amazed I become. She has my nose, my lips, my dark hair. It’s baffling that I didn’t realize sooner. Felicia has the face of an angel, snoring softly as she dreams. I can’t describe the sensation stirring in my stomach, nor the pull in my heart as I watch her sleep. She’s just so… small. Small and adorable and precious.
My throat tightens, anxiety clawing at my spine. I brought her and her mother here to protect them, but what if I can’t?
I push the thoughts from my mind, closing the door to leave Felicia to her dreams.
Arin’s room is right across the hall. Knowing she’s just on the other side sends me spiraling. She’s probably asleep, too. I shouldn’t disturb her.
And yet.
I’ve been fighting this craving for days. Ever since I tasted her lips, found myself between her pretty legs, I’ve been hungry to have her all over again. No matter how hard I try to stay away, I come right back to her. My fingers itch to touch her, my skin burns to have her touch me.
I open her door slowly and take a step inside. Her bed is empty.
Before I have the chance to worry, I hear the rhythmic thrum of a sewing machine. There’s a light on just past her walk-in closet, the door to her safe room turned fashion studio slightly ajar.
I find her busy at work, sewing two pieces of cloth together. She’s only been here a day, but she’s made full use of the space like she’s been here for years. Fresh designs drawn by hand are taped to the wall. Scraps of fabric lie about in organized piles, a new dress already taking shape on one of the dress forms I had Elio purchase for her. I told him to spare no expense when it came to creating this space for Arin, and I’m glad he followed through.
She’s mesmerizing to watch, in a world of her own. I don’t think she even knows what time it is. Arin’s got a pair of headphones in, listening to music on her phone as she hops off her stool and skips over to her dress form, pinning fabric in place. It’s shaping up nicely, a gorgeous bustier decorated with black lace and strategically placed straps. When I notice the matching see-through skirt that’s wrapped around the base of the mannequin, it occurs to me that she’s working on a lingerie set.
“Put it on for me,” I say.
Arin yelps, jumping in surprise. “Oh my God, don’t scare me like that!” I tilt my chin toward the lingerie. “I want to see you in it.”
She licks her lips, her cheeks turning a cute dusting of pink. “Dominic…” I pull over a chair and take a seat, the front of my pants already getting tight at the thought of Arin getting all dressed up for me. “Please?” I ask,
barely recognizing how gruff I sound.
At first, I think she’s going to refuse my request, but then I see the fire in her eyes. There’s excitement behind those frosty grays, along with a dark hunger that matches my own.
“Since you asked so nicely,” she says with a wicked grin. “Turn around, signor. Let me put on a show for you.”