Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dominic lay on the concrete. His lip and nose were swollen, and blood matted his hair. His stomach ached where Sandford had kicked him. The coward would never have dared if those three enforcers hadn’t been pinning Dominic down.
He touched the deep scrape on his cheek. It was still oozing blood. Sandford’s ring had done it.
No more pretty boy, the lawyer had mocked.
Like Dominic cared about his fucking face. He wanted to know where Sylvie was and what the hell Raymond was doing to her.
He dozed and woke up when a key scratched in the lock. Dominic had no idea how long he’d slept. His stomach gnawed at itself with hunger, so he assumed several hours had passed.
When the door opened, he saw daylight. He’d been lying in the dark. The brightness made him squint.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” Raymond switched on a light. He was holding a gun.
Dominic sat up. “Here to finish me off? Is that your idea of mercy?” Maybe it was. A quick gunshot wound to the head would be far preferable to whatever the Russians had planned for him later.
Raymond said something to a person in the hall and closed the door. They were alone. That probably meant this was his last chance to beg.
“I’m sorry for failing you.” Dominic’s voice sounded strange, probably because his nostrils had swollen shut. “I never wanted you to be a part of this. But please take care of Sylvie. I get that you’re angry at me, but don’t take it out on her.”
“Shut up. You have no idea how sick I am of hearing you talk.”
Dominic flinched at the harshness in his brother’s voice. Had Raymond ever spoken to him that way? He sounded like Charles.
“The least you could do is hold yourself together and take what’s coming like a man. Don’t embarrass our family any more than you already have.”
“That’s how you really see me?”
An embarrassment. Weak. Dominic had thought he couldn’t sink any lower, but every word his brother uttered was another stone pushing him down into the depths.
Raymond knelt beside him. “Be quiet,” he whispered in a completely different tone altogether. “You have to trust me, Nic. Stay close, and I’ll help you.” For a split second, he held Dominic’s hand and squeezed it.
“What?”
But his brother had already stood up again and opened the door.
Patrick, the guard Dominic had seen yesterday, came into the room and lifted him up to standing. More guards flanked them as they walked him into the main room of the pool house.
“Dominic, I hope you slept well.” His uncle smiled like he was enjoying this. “I would’ve invited you in for breakfast, but I’m afraid our chef’s not here.”
Dominic licked at his bloody lip. “Can we get this done without any more bantering?”
Raymond elbowed him in the side. “I told you to stay quiet.” The harsh tone was back, but the words reminded him of what Raymond had whispered. I’m going to help you. Dominic didn’t see how, but he decided to go with it. He didn’t have any options left.
To either side of Charles, crowding the room, stood the other Syndicate captains. Men Dominic had known most of his life, who’d worked for him, who’d treated him like their own son. Most of them just eyed him with stony expressions, but one man spat at his feet when he came near.
To them, he was already dead.
Charles raised his arms, and everyone else quieted.
“The Crane brothers are back among us. Two of them, at least. I know I’m not the only one who’s gratified to see it, even in a different form than we all were hoping.
I wanted to bring both of my nephews into the fold again, where they belonged.
But life doesn’t always deal out the hand we’d like to get.
I’m confident you’ll all welcome Raymond as he takes his place at my side, and not hold any of his older brothers’ failings against him. ”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement. No doubt Raymond’s presence was helping them set aside any lingering doubts. A Crane was once again at the head of the Syndicate, even if Raymond wasn’t truly in charge.
But Dominic guessed his betrayal had united the factions behind Charles more than any endorsement ever could.
Again, Dominic thought of Raymond’s whispers in that room. Had he imagined it? Maybe he’d been hallucinating, his mind grasping for anything to hold onto.
“Sadly, we have less pleasant business to handle today. A righting of wrongs. Unpleasant, but necessary. Gentleman, if you’ll come with me? I believe our friends are arriving as we speak.”
Charles and the captains filed out through the pool house door.
Patrick pulled Dominic to follow them.
Yellow glare bounced off the swimming pool. Dominic raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the sun. He stumbled, and Patrick yanked his arm to keep him going. Raymond stayed close to Dominic’s other side.
The back door of the main house opened, and Alexi brought Sylvie out to join them. Aaron Sandford trailed after them, his smug smile firmly in place. At least she looked unharmed. Her mouth opened in shock when she saw Dominic, probably reacting to the state of his face.
Raymond elbowed Dominic again, like he was warning him to keep his mouth shut.
But what the hell was Sylvie doing out here? Raymond was supposed to be protecting her. He’d said he wasn’t going to give her to the Russians. Dominic wanted to scream. Raymond’s whispers earlier were the only thing keeping him quiet.
Everyone related to the Syndicate had gathered on the far side of the pool. Now, a new group of people walked through the gate, coming from the direction of the driveway.
A man in his early forties led the way, dressed in business casual like Charles. Then a phalanx of beefy thugs in boxy suits.
They stopped on the other side of the pool, facing the Syndicate.
“Charles, how are you?” the leader of the other gang said. Dominic didn’t recognize the guy. He wore a watch that bore a resemblance to a Rolex, but even with blood in his eyes Dominic could tell it was probably fake. The man’s clothes were off the rack. This guy was middle management at best.
Whoever this group was, the Russian mob or whatever, they hadn’t bothered to send anyone too important.
That just confirmed that Uncle Charles was way out of his league.
Dominic would have been, too. The Cranes had always known the Syndicate’s place in the scheme of things. That was how they’d survived so long.
“Thank you for meeting on such short notice, Victor,” Charles said. “I appreciate the courtesy.”
Victor’s smile was tight. “Our pleasure.” His eyes flicked over to Dominic, probably because he was the only guy who looked like he’d recently received a beating. “Is that our friend?”
“That’s right. He’s eager to get to know you.”
“As are we. And the girl?”
Charles waved a hand at Raymond. “Change of plans, I’m afraid. Of course, you’re welcome to question her, given the information we shared with you.”
Victor was nodding like he understood just what Charles meant. “Questions. We do have questions. Ms. Trousseau, is it?”
“Yes,” Sylvie said in a small voice.
Dominic’s entire body seized to see these people focused on her. Raymond’s hand circled Dominic’s elbow, like he was trying to send some sort of message through his skin.
“I understand you wrote a nasty little bit of code and sent it to some associates of mine.”
“Yes,” she said again.
Goosebumps broke out painfully over Dominic’s back.
“And whose orders were you working under?” Victor asked.
Charles seemed uninterested in this exchange, tapping his loafer against the stone patio—until Sylvie’s next answer.
“Charles Traynor. He hired me to do it.”
Dominic could hardly believe what she’d just said. “What—” Raymond’s hand tightened around his arm, and Dominic clamped his mouth closed.
Uncle Charles couldn’t believe it, either. “She’s lying,” he sputtered. “That’s absurd.”
Okay, so this was some sort of plan Sylvie and Raymond had cooked up. That was the only explanation. But what was his brother thinking, screwing around with the Russian mafia? How was this supposed to help them?
A dozen different men on either side of the pool had their hands on their weapons. No one had aimed one yet.
Victor’s brow wrinkled. “This is a real conundrum, Charles. Because here’s what I know. We’re the ones who told you, just last night, that somebody tried to hack us. And you acted so shocked that anyone would have the audacity.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. And then I learned it was Dominic. It was him. He put her up to it. That’s what I told you as soon as I found out.”
Victor walked along the edge of the pool, gesturing as he spoke.
“But how did we know about it in the first place? Because a source from within your Syndicate told us the truth about five minutes before we called you. Told us all kinds of things. That you intended to play us for fools? Learn everything you could about our operation and then fuck us over? You had one chance to come clean when we called you last night, but you played as innocent as a girl at communion.”
“But I would never—”
Victor’s focus shifted to Raymond. “Why don’t we ask your second in command?”
“It’s all true.” Raymond’s voice rang out against the hard surfaces of the pool area.
“I heard Charles give the order. Sylvie was supposed to hack your system, and Dominic would take the fall for it. But I never agreed to any of it. That’s why I came clean with you. I knew this would blow back on us.”
The Syndicate captains were starting to narrow their eyes at Charles. They didn’t know who to believe. A Traynor, or a Crane?
“What the fuck are you doing, Raymond?”
Charles grabbed a gun from the nearest enforcer and pointed it at Dominic’s brother. Their uncle was several yards away, but still, Dominic sucked in a panicked breath.
“You called me last night to tell me about Dominic’s plot to betray us,” Charles said, “right after I spoke to Victor. I didn’t know about the hack until they informed me. But you did. Fucking tell them.”