22

Chapter 22
Arin
Dominic doesn’t go to work the next day, or the day after that, or even the day after that. I don’t have any complaints. After the shit we’ve been through, his presence is more than welcome.
Felicia and I are in the kitchen preparing a few snacks. While I wash some grapes in the sink, my daughter dumps an entire box of crackers onto a plate. Dominic and Johnny stand by the entrance, speaking in low tones. If I strain, I can just barely make out what they’re saying.
“He wants to know why you haven’t stopped by the office,” Johnny says anxiously. “He wants answers.”
“Believe me, so do I.” “What should I tell him?”
“Tell Lorenzo I’m working on his warehouse plans. He’ll know what it means.”
“And you think that’ll keep him off your back?”
Dominic’s jaw ticks. I’ve learned how to read him a little better over the last couple of days. Whenever his jaw works like that, it means he isn’t sure at all.
“It’ll do for now,” is his blunt answer. “Any word on Elio?”
Johnny shakes his head. “No sign of him. We’ve tried conducting a search, but we can’t get close enough to Renato’s territory without raising the alarm. I’m worried they might actually have killed him.”
A chill races down my spine.
This is all so surreal. Just a few days ago, Elio was standing in this very kitchen, cracking jokes and spending time with Felicia. And now he’s…
“If they did get him, he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. There has to be evidence somewhere. Keep looking.”
Johnny shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Believe me, sir, we’re trying. But Lorenzo doesn’t want us to keep looking. He says Elio’s as good
as gone.”
My stomach churns. I might be pretending to ignore their conversation, but I’m actually super invested. According to Dominic’s source, Lorenzo is trying to ice his right-hand man and use it as an excuse to start an all-out war with a rival racket. If that’s true, it makes sense to take out Dominic’s own right-hand man. Slowly but surely, Dominic is being isolated — a chess piece surrounded on all sides by opponents ready to attack. All it would take is one mistake, one misstep, and Dominic will have nowhere to turn.
“Here!” Felicia says cheerfully, skipping over to Dominic with her plate full of crackers and grapes. “Sharing is caring,” she announces proudly.
“We’ll talk more about this later,” after smiling at her, Dominic says hastily to Johnny. “Keep an eye out. Stay alert.”
“Yes, signor,” he replies before making a hasty exit.
“What does that mean?” Felicia asks, balancing her plate on top of her head.
I hurry on over and take it from her before she makes a mess, setting it on the entryway table. “It means ‘sir’ in Italian.”
“What’s Italian?”
“It’s another language, sweetie.”
“Another language?” my daughter gawks. “How many are there?” “Lots,” I say.
She points at Dominic. “I want to learn!”
Laughing lightly, I pick my daughter up and hold her out to Dominic. “You have to ask nicely, Felicia.” Dominic noticeably stiffens. He doesn’t reach out to take her. “Would you mind?” I ask him. “I left the sink running.” He swallows, hesitantly lifting Felicia under the arms. He holds her away from his body, awkward in every way imaginable. “Uh… I guess. I’m not
really a teacher.”
I snort. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m holding the child.”
“Yeah, like she’s a bag of poop.” Felicia giggles at the word poop. “That’s not how you hold a kid.”
Dominic takes a deep breath, worry etched into the features of his face. “She’s just… so small.”
I realize I’ve been wrong this entire time. I initially took his aloofness to mean he wasn’t connecting with Felicia, but now it’s obvious he simply doesn’t want to hurt her. He’s a big bad mafioso, someone trained in the art
of extortion, money laundering, loan sharking… caring for children isn’t exactly one of his specialties.
“Hold her like this, silly,” I say, readjusting his hold so Felicia can sit more comfortably on his forearm. “There, isn’t that better?”
Dominic is still stiff, but he looks nowhere near as awkward. “I suppose.” I watch them in amusement. There’s something about a big man holding a tiny child that makes me feel all gooey inside. I return to the kitchen and turn off the tap before I accidentally flood the whole apartment, leaving Felicia in
her father’s care.
She isn’t aware of who Dominic is yet, and I’m not too sure how to go about telling her. She’s so young and has the attention span of a goldfish; the news might not take hold the way I expect it to.
Felicia rests her cheek against Dominic’s shoulder, sucking on her thumb while clutching his shirt with her other hand. She always gets sleepy after she’s had a couple of snacks.
“Wanna watch Paw Patrol,” she mumbles tiredly.
I smile. “Okay, sweetie. How about you go sit on the couch?” She shakes her head. “Wanna stay here.”
I can’t help but laugh. Children are always so wonderfully indecisive. I glance at Dominic, admiring the undeniable fondness in his eyes. “I guess she wants you to join her.”
“Must be,” he mumbles softly before carrying her to the living room without complaint.
“Mommy, come too!”
“Alright, sweetie. I’m coming.”
Dominic sits down on the cushion and turns on the TV for her, Felicia sitting comfortably in his lap while holding on to his hand like she’s afraid he’ll leave. I take the spot next to them, but I’m quickly pulled in close when Dominic slings an arm over my shoulder like we’ve done this a million times before.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry tears of joy. Being together like this… I didn’t know how much I wanted it until this very moment. They look good together, the tough wiseguy and his mini-me daughter. It’s pretty obvious Dominic doesn’t care for Ryder and his awesome pups, but he endures episode after episode until Felicia is out like a light, snoring against his chest and drooling on his Armani shirt.
Once he’s sure she’s fast asleep, Dominic says, “We need to talk.”
I pick up the remote and lower the volume on the TV. “That sounds ominous, but then I guess this whole situation kind of is.”
“I want you to consider putting your fashion show on hold.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I muster up the courage to ask, “Why?”
“I know this is something you’ve been greatly looking forward to—” “Yes, for years.”
“—but the attack the other day at the bar has proven to me how easily my enemies can get to you. You asked the other day if Miriam might have been in on the attack; my sources tell me that’s not the case. It was merely a coincidence.”
“Why am I sensing a but coming?”
“But,” he says, “it’s evident that I don’t know who to trust. Until I can figure out what’s going on, I’m the only one I trust to ensure you and our little one’s safety.”
“Are you… saying you’re going to be my bodyguard?”
“If you want the job done right and all that,” he says casually.
I read his expression carefully. He’s dead serious. “Dom… I can’t give up my dream.”
“I’m not asking you to give up. I’m merely asking you to postpone it.”
While I understand his logic, my disappointment is immeasurable. Just when I thought things were lining up for me, shit just had to go wrong. Still, Dominic’s right. I’d rather live to see another day. There will always be another New York Fashion Week, always another chance to share my talents with the world. The only reason I was pushing so hard to launch my label and find success was because I wanted to provide for my daughter. I’m obviously still determined to work hard to achieve my goals, but with Dominic in the picture, maybe I don’t have to work myself to the bone.
I may be stubborn, but I’m not going to put on a fashion show at the risk of being targeted. It’s time to pivot my plans, take a pause, maybe focus on building bonds as a family. Granny Ruth always used to say that when one door closes, another one opens. I’d be a fool to keep charging ahead when all the signs clearly point toward danger.
“I understand,” I murmur softly, ignoring the sting in my chest. I’ll just have to get over this for now. “I’ll call Miriam and tell her there’s been a change of plans.”
“I’m sorry, Arin,” he says earnestly, the softness in his gaze making my
heart swell. “It’s all my fault. I swear to you, I’ll sort everything out as soon as I can.”
I turn a little in my seat to face him better. “Let me help you.”
He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “I appreciate the offer, dolcezza, but this isn’t something you’re equipped to handle.”
“And you are?”
“Careful,” he chides lightly. “You’ll bruise my ego.”
“There has to be something I can do to help. You know you can trust me, right?”
He pauses like he’s actually considering it. “Yes. I know I can trust you.” “So let me help. There’s no way you can do this alone. You’ve seen me in
fights. I can hold my own.”
Dominic regards me with an expression I’ve never seen him wear before.
It’s a mix of amusement and… pride?
“I know, Arin. But the best thing you can do to help me right now is to stay here with Felicia where I know you’ll be safe. You’ve been caught in the crossfire more than once. I refuse to let it happen a third time.”
My shoulders deflate, but I can’t say I’m surprised by his answer. Still, I can’t ignore the restless energy stirring within me. It’s not in my nature to sit around and wait for things to come to pass. If there’s one thing I’ve always been, it’s a go-getter. It doesn’t seem right or fair to sit on the sidelines while Dominic fights alone. I can understand why he doesn’t want me on the frontlines, but surely there are other ways I can lend him a helping hand. He needs allies, now more than ever. But what can I possibly bring to the table?
An idea pops into my head.
“Will you be alright if I leave you alone with her for a few minutes?” I ask him, carefully combing Felicia’s hair away from her sleeping face.
“I’ll manage,” he replies. “Where are you off to?”
“Just to the studio to call Miriam. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
“There’s no hurry,” he assures, patting Felicia tenderly on the back.
Suppressing an internal giggle of delight, I hurry down the hall toward my bedroom. Once I enter my work studio, I pull out my phone. Calling Miriam is still on my agenda, but there’s another call I need to make first. I’ve got my fabric supplier’s number memorized at this point, so it only takes a few seconds for me to punch in the numbers.
My supplier answers on the second ring tone. “Charlie’s Fabric Emporium, Charlie speaking.”
“Hey, Charlie? It’s me.”
“Arin!” he greets cheerfully. “I feel like it’s been ages since I heard from you. How’ve you been?”
It’s a loaded question, but I decide a polite lie is better than the ugly truth. “Not too bad, thanks. Listen, I need to put in an order.”
“Of course. Should I send the usual? We just so happen to be having a sale on tulle.”
I walk over to the three mannequins hosting the custom suits Dominic ordered from me not that long ago. I still haven’t finished them. He still needs to try them on so I can make adjustments and ensure everything fits just right, but even in their incomplete state, they look stunning.
“Actually, I have something very special in mind.” “Oh? Do tell. Working on a new project?”
“I guess you could say that.” I graze my fingers over the soft inner lining and smile to myself. “I want to put in an order for Kevlar.”