Fierce Monarch (Gilded Empire Book 3)

Chapter 17 – Dominic

By the time we landed, I was already itching to get home. It’d been less than a year since I’d found my way back to Seattle, to Mari, but it held me more than Chicago ever had. I’d been born there, had grown up there before my mom got with Mario Marcosa, and I’d returned there when it was over. I’d become a man on those streets, was born to rule them by blood and by rights, and yet I didn’t feel even a tinge of homesickness inside me for the place that had birthed me.

I wanted overcast skies and rainy days on the couch more than I wanted to return to a past that didn’t fit me anymore.

That was all Mari. She was my home, my heart. She was the center of my universe, not a city that didn’t care about me. Even Greyson felt more like mine than this place ever had. My brother, my friend.

Fuck, when had that happened?

“We’re here.” His voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I blinked up at the gated mansion. It was closer to the Marcosa mansion than the O’Bannon one, with old money seeping out of every crack in the stone. Stained glass on some of the large windows was visible from the gatehouse, where I gave my name. He didn’t even have to check it to immediately let us in.

Greyson pulled the town car to a stop in front of the door, pocketing the keys so no one could try to move it in case we needed a quick getaway. We’d come as incognito as possible, leaving a seething Moore and Tennessee behind to keep up appearances of us staying home. Despite staying in Seattle, they’d arranged everything from the car to the private security that followed us through the streets. Considering we were at the home of a House representative—my mother’s fourth, or was it fifth, husband—people probably assumed that we were visiting dignitaries or other representatives, and that worked fine for us. The blacked-out windows meant they could guess all they wanted and still never know.

Not unless they knew Grey’s face, at least.

The wrong people would, but they’d keep their mouths shut. My mother held some serious sway over Representative Doug Patterson, and he’d bring the law down on them the second they hinted at revealing her secrets. Ironic that my mother would use her federal lackey husband as a guard dog, considering Lucia Ricci was a mafia queen just like Mari.

Or she would’ve been if my father had survived.

My father’s family had been in charge of Chicago longer than the Marcosas had ruled Seattle. It was part of the reason my mother had married Mario in the first place, to unite the two families and expand his reach across the country. Despite how young she’d been, my mother was a smart woman. Without my father, my position as heir had been tenuous at best. I had been too young to rule and too ornery to care about it. She’d tried to hold on to the seat as long as she could, but eventually, another family came in with an offer she couldn’t refuse. The Lords of Chicago, the ruling faction at the time, let me live as long as I denounced any possibility of coming back for my position. I could live here, grow old here, and die here, but I would never rule.

Amnesty deals were few and far between, so my mother took it. One of many.

I helped Mari out of the car, careful to keep myself between her and anyone else until Grey boxed her in on the other side. She stiffened immediately, not liking being guarded so closely. But we were in unknown territory, and even if my mother held her husband’s leash tightly, I wasn’t risking my girl for anything.

I’d leash her myself if I thought I could get away with it.

The door opened before we knocked, and my mother filled my vision.

Lucia Ricci was nearly sixty and looked half her age. Only the faint wrinkles at the sides of her mouth and her eyes betrayed her secret, and no one who looked that hard at her would care. Her sheath dress was new, just like the diamond necklace at her throat, and only the kitten heels on her feet told me she was dressed up with nowhere to go.

No less than three-inch heels would do for leaving the house. Mama Ricci’s rules.

She hadn’t always been so put together, but after my father was murdered, she fell into the routine of being a mafia wife. Always on, always perfect.

I missed the woman she’d been before. When she’d just been my mom, not Lucia.

“Dominic.” Her wide-eyed expression went from happy to worried the second I shifted to the side and Mari stepped forward, holding out her hand to shake.

“Lucia. It’s lovely to see you again.”

Mother shook it robotically before her eyes flicked to Grey and then beyond us all to the street, though it was impossible to really see from here. “Why don’t you all come in?”

I could see the calculations in her eyes, wondering if I was bringing trouble to her door, while also trying to make sure the neighbors didn’t get a good look at who was coming in. Most likely, she’d spin a story that I was some billionaire wanting to put his money into politics to help Doug’s career.

“We’d love to.” Mari stepped in first, casually looking around as she did. “You have a picture-perfect home.”

It was not a compliment. The inside looked like a magazine and felt about as warm as a hospital room. Even our place at the Celestine was more comfortable than this.

“Tea, coffee? I think we’ve got some of those butter cookies you like, Mari. They’re Dominic’s favorite too, so I keep them in the cupboard.”

They were my favorite because they were Mari’s, and from the sly, sweet look on her face, she knew it too. “No, thank you. We’ve just got a few questions, so we won’t take up too much of your time.

“We were going through some of Mario’s things recently, and we came across your name mixed with an…adversary of ours. Considering his history, we wanted to get the story from the source.”

“Adversary?” Mother asked, but she knew. Her hands crept to her throat, clutching the necklace there with shaking fingers and a firm grip.

“Cash Beckstrom.”

The name felt like dropping an atom bomb in the middle of the room. My mother’s face twitched but didn’t move, and that alone told me she had more history with Cash than I wanted her to. Fear soured my stomach, and I prayed like I never had before that he hadn’t hurt her. He was already a dead man for what he’d done to Mari, but if he’d attacked my mother too, there wouldn’t be enough pieces to identify his remains.

Lucia’s eyes flitted around the room, barely stopping on one thing before moving on to the next. “I’m sorry, I don’t?—”

“I should’ve been more clear,” Mari said, leaning back in the cushions as if to show how comfortable she was. “We aren’t leaving until you give us everything you’ve got on him.”

My mother’s eyes flicked to mine. “Dominic.”

It was a plea, a desperate, bone-deep cry for help, and I couldn’t give it. “Tell her, Mother.”

A long, tense moment passed, during which the only thing breaking the silence was the roar of the wind outside. The house was sturdy, but it creaked and moaned as all old houses did. My mother stared into the empty fireplace, tracking the marble like it would give her the answers she wanted.

When she spoke, her voice was barely loud enough to hear. “We had an affair.”

Christ.“You and Cash?”

“Yes.” She turned to us then, eyes brimming with tears. “You have to understand, I didn’t want to marry Mario.”

“But you didn’t have a choice,” Mari guessed. She was versed in the ways of mafia women in a manner Grey and I never could be. “What happened?”

Lucia shook her head. “I met Mario at a gala with Alonzo, my second husband. It was a few years after Dominic’s father died, and I was just starting to get back to normal. Happy, even. Alonzo was older but sweet. He took care of us.”

By older, she meant ancient. My memories of my first stepfather were of puffy white hair and a crinkled smile. He had been old enough to be her grandfather.

“Mario found me the second he walked in, and he was, for lack of a better term, besotted. He followed me around the entire time, even cornered me by the bathrooms at one point to explain why he’d come to Chicago. He offered me a place at his side immediately. Love at first sight, he’d called it, and even after I explained that I wasn’t available, he wouldn’t walk away. He asked for a drink, a dance, a night. I refused.

“When Alonzo came over to take me to the dance floor himself, I could see that Mario didn’t like it. He’d come to Chicago looking for a wife, and just because the one he’d found was married didn’t mean he was going to take no for an answer.”

She stood on shaky legs, heading for the bar cart in the corner. She came back with a full glass of bourbon and didn’t even realize she hadn’t offered us any. It was as close to off-kilter as my mother got anymore.

After half the glass was gone, Mother continued. “He played nice the rest of the night, being friendly with Alonzo like nothing had happened. Turns out they were old friends, and my husband had been the one to suggest expanding the pool of potential wives to our city. Mario played on their friendship, teasing and joking about extending his stay until it felt impossible not to invite him to do it. We couldn’t slight him, and Alonzo was just happy everyone was getting along.

“Mario showed up for dinner every night that week and the week after, bringing me flowers and treats each time, even when I said it was unnecessary. Alonzo thought it was sweet that Mario thought of me, but I knew better. He was testing the waters and finding the protection around me lacking. I told Alonzo I didn’t like him around so much, but they’d been talking about marrying the two of you together, uniting the bloodlines. Until the decision was made, we couldn’t say no.”

Ice slid down my spine as I cautiously looked over at Mari, but she was focused on my mother. “How did you two end up together?”

Lucia looked at me then away, her ears burning. “Alonzo and I had an arrangement. He wasn’t interested in sex, but he knew I was young and I wanted more children. We agreed that I could have affairs, as long as I kept them discreet.”

None of us flinched. It wasn’t uncommon in our world, nor was it cheating when she had full permission of her spouse, but Mother was from a different, less accepting time. Hell, Mari was dating two men. It wasn’t exactly stereotypical monogamy in our lives either, but Mother wouldn’t agree. She’d grown up with that as the example and expectation, and anything outside of it was perverse.

Like she knew she had to tread carefully, Mari’s voice was gentle. “Mario was one of those affairs.”

“Initially, yes, but only because Alonzo convinced me it was a good idea, and just while he was in town. As soon as we worked out your engagement, Mario would go home, and our relationship would be over. I knew immediately that Mario wouldn’t accept the terms of our arrangement for long. He was the type who needed to own someone, not share them.” Another sip and a deep, shuddering breath. “The affair lasted three months. Then Alonzo died.”

“Mario killed him,” Grey guessed because we all knew how obsessive the asshole had been. Honestly, I was surprised my stepfather had survived that long with Mother in Mario’s sights.

“I was pregnant at the time, his baby, obviously. The second he found out, he got rid of Alonzo.” The glass clinked against her teeth as she took a shaky sip. “I told him I wasn’t interested in marrying him, even after the mourning period was over, but Mario didn’t care about that. He blackmailed me with photos and videos he’d taken from our time together. I either married him and brought you to Seattle, or he’d tell everyone and let the Lords of Chicago take care of us both.”

She reached forward and snatched my hands, clinging to me. “You have to understand, they would’ve killed you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“So, you married Mario.” I’d always wondered how she’d met him, but I’d accepted her excuse. We run in the same circles. Apparently, I should’ve looked into the situation sooner.

“Eventually, yes,” she answered, looking at Greyson. “I think he would’ve done it immediately, despite the mourning period, but the stress of it all made me lose the baby. He wanted to give me time to heal so we could try again, but there were complications.”

The way she said it made it obvious that those complications were entirely intentional. Mari sat back, staring at my mother with newfound awe. “You got sterilized.”

My mother looked over her shoulder, fingers trembling in mine, and I squeezed them.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Your mother?—”

She didn’t need to explain more than that. Everyone knew that Bianca Marcosa’s story was a warning. My mother had given up her chance at more children, which she desperately wanted, just for a chance to survive long enough to raise me herself. For the first time in years, I saw a glimpse of my mom inside her, and I wondered what else she’d sacrificed for me.

Had she ever done something for herself?

“When did the affair with Cash start?”

“Almost immediately after we got to Seattle,” Mother admitted. “I was lonely and reeling from everything, and Mario didn’t trust me with his men. He kept me locked in our house and only let me out enough so that people could see I was alive. For a year, the only men Mario had guarding me were the ones he thought too loyal to break.” She huffed in annoyance. “Like it was my fault he’d pursued me so hard in the first place.”

With the last of the booze drained, she sat back. “Cash started doing nice things, leaving me my favorite treats in my room, sneaking me books and movies, taking me out on long drives when he had to leave the compound. I told him I couldn’t be with him, not when it risked Dominic, but he promised it wouldn’t. He’d keep things quiet, and Mario wouldn’t kill me because then he’d never get another chance to make more heirs. No woman would touch him willingly if he killed two of his wives, and he was all about the willingness of his partners. He got off on us saying yes, even when it was the only way out.”

“But my father found out about you two. How?”

“Cash told him just after we got married. On our wedding night, Cash convinced me to meet him and we…” She looked at me before her eyes darted away again. “He took photos, taunting Mario that he’d had me on our wedding night too. I’d already known that our affair was more about power than anything, but I didn’t realize that Cash didn’t care what happened to me. When Mario found out, I ran for Cash, but he wasn’t there. I thought I was going to die.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Cash was right. Mario knew that getting rid of me would bring questions he couldn’t afford to answer—about his sanity, his virility, his control over me, and his people. His very hold on Seattle was at risk.”

I glanced at Mari, realizing she was dealing with the same destabilization of her power base now.

“Things would’ve been different if Cash had still been in the city, but he’d left in the middle of the night, taking Mario’s product with him. After he burned the evidence, Mario offered me a quiet divorce if I signed the deal and left Seattle until it was time for Dominic to return. Once Dominic fulfilled the deal, everything would be forgiven.”

Mari sat back, tapping her fingers on the couch arm as she tried to piece together the puzzle. “What deal are you talking about?”

My mother’s brow furrowed as she looked between Mari and me, and my stomach dropped. “The marriage deal. You and Dominic have been engaged since you were sixteen.”