Ruined (Sinners of Boston #6)

1. Luca

ONE

LUCA

Boss

Get here now.

Bring me dinner.

I stared at my phone, heat coiling in my gut.

Son of a bitch . I’d clocked out two hours ago. I asked the asshole if he needed anything. He told me to go home.

The restaurant hummed with clinking glasses and laughter. Soft jazz barely cut through the noise in my head. Across from me, Maria yapped about office drama. The smell of grilled meats and spices floated through the air. No demands. No orders. No one breathing down my neck. A peaceful night away from my boss, wrecked by two texts.

I stabbed my reply.

Where?

Boss

Casino.

Maria paused with a spoonful of kimchi. “Everything okay?”

“It’s Dominic.”

“You’re joking.”

I only frowned.

She put her spoon down. “Did you tell him you had plans?”

“He doesn’t care.” I stood, tossing cash on the table to cover the bill.

“You’re really leaving?”

She didn’t get it. Maria thought she was mad on my behalf, but she’d never seen rage up close, not like what I’d face if I didn’t go. Dominic wasn’t someone you ignored. You answered his calls and showed up when he told you to.

I pulled on my jacket. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You do. You just keep choosing him .”

“It’s not that simple.”

Maria sighed, slumping into her seat. “There’s always an excuse.”

A pang hit my chest as she picked up her wine glass. Maria deserved a man who didn’t bail the moment his boss snapped his fingers. She’d gone all out for dinner. Her cherry nails matched her dress, probably because I said red looked good on her last week. She’d done something to her hair. It caressed her heart-shaped face and the pout that might’ve brought any other man to his knees.

It didn’t work on me. Couldn’t work on me. And I hated myself for it.

I’d put off this date for weeks, only to leave after twenty minutes. She was nice and beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have her. What was wrong with me?

I drank the rest of my wine in a gulp. “I’m sorry, Maria.”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms and plumped her chest.

I pretended not to notice. Made it easier to explain away. “Me too.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

She looked up, softening. Like she could see the mess in me and still found something worth caring about. She smiled, but it was strained.

I walked out of the restaurant, gripping my phone. Get here now. Bring me dinner . He didn’t ask. He commanded like I was a butler waiting for his call.

He’d made me think I was free for the night. Should’ve known better. The bastard loved reminding me who called the shots. It fed his ego.

A few months ago, I did hits for the Bratva. I wasn’t a whipping boy, I was trusted. Admired. I’d earned the right for others to bring me a glass of vodka and to be saluted and praised. Now? The Bratva was destroyed from the inside out, and I’d been “rescued.”

Cast out. Penniless. And begging my own family—my biological family—for any job. They found me a place in the business, but it came with a price. Dominic Caruso . Old-school mafia with a taste for new money. Dominic was a lifer from Brooklyn. Sharp suits, slick demeanor, and an accent that grated on my nerves. I hated him.

If I could quit, I would’ve tossed his dinner onto the floor at his feet and shot him two middle fingers. But Dominic was important to the Costas. And me? I was the liability. The errand boy pawned off onto that prick just to ensure my loyalties lied with the Italians.

The Costas didn’t give me a second chance because they saw potential in me. They gave me a job because they didn’t know what else to do with me. It wasn’t respect that kept me under their thumb—it was obligation. And if there was one thing I’d learned about family, it was that obligation could feel like a prison just as much as loyalty.

The Costas were respectable businessmen to anyone outside the fold. But I knew better. Behind the tailored suits were men who could slit your throat without spilling a drop on their silk ties. They didn’t look at me and see Luca Costa, family. They saw a stray dog with too much baggage and not enough worth.

We took you in , they’d said. This is your chance to prove you’re loyal to us.

Prove myself? I’d bled enough already to prove I could survive things they couldn’t dream of.

And Dominic loved reminding me of where I stood. Not with words, but with the constant fucking orders. Dinner. Coffee. Meetings I didn’t need to attend. He saw how far he could push me, just to watch me obey. I wasn’t his equal. I was a test. How far could the Bratva rat bend before he snapped?

I’d come close. A thousand times.

I lived only to deliver Dominic a sandwich. And I was done with it. He might’ve been my temporary boss, but he didn’t own me.

Enough is enough.

Time to set him straight.

I drove to the casino.

Violent images clouded my brain as I parked. Neon sliced through the dark, jabbing my eyes. Inside, the casino pulsed like a living thing. Slot machines screamed, chips clinked, and someone laughed near the roulette wheel. The perfumed air reeked of desperation. My teeth ground together as I maneuvered through the maze of tables, Dominic’s dinner sweating in my hand. Didn’t bother checking if it was warm. I’d gone to the cheapest deli in walking distance, but Dominic wouldn’t give a fuck.

Two bodyguards stationed outside the high-roller suite gave me a once-over but didn’t stop me. They knew me well enough not to ask questions. Their stares burned into my back as I pushed through the doors and stepped inside.

Dominic’s office was leather and polished wood. He was exactly where I expected him, lounging in his oversized chair like he owned the goddamned world. Tawny hair framed his face in thick, perfect waves, softening his cheekbones. His olive skin glowed in the low light, and his dark eyes anchored me, a black hole pulling me in. He didn’t move. He just looked at me, one arm draped over the chair.

I put the bag on the table. “Here’s your sandwich.”

“Dropped your girl to feed me, huh?”

His silky voice stabbed into me.

I refused to take the bait. “What else do you need me for?”

Dominic didn’t even look up from his sandwich, peeling the foil so slowly it set my teeth on edge. He gestured toward the chair. “Sit. Have a drink.”

“I don’t want a drink. I’m going back to my date.”

His brow quirked. “Night’s already ruined, no sense in going back.”

I glanced at the door. “She’s still there. I’ll catch her if I leave now.”

“She’ll be finished with dessert by the time you get to North End, and parking will be impossible.”

Seething, I leaned over the desk. “Am I done here?”

“Watch your tone, Luca. I don’t have to answer your questions.”

My fists itched to punch his stupid face. “Then I’m leaving.”

“ Sit down . I’m not done with you yet.”

I threw myself in a chair. “What could you possibly need that couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

“It couldn’t wait.”

“Really? On the night I asked you not to bother me?”

He shrugged. “I can’t shift my schedule because of your personal life.”

“I left work two hours ago?—”

“ And? You are on call. Don’t waste my time with your whining.”

“All you do is waste my fucking time.” I gestured at the paper bag. “You could’ve ordered your dinner.”

“Why use an app when I have you?”

If I could have gotten away with it, I’d have had him on his knees for once. I’d have loved to shove my Glock in his mouth and teach him a lesson. He thought he was untouchable.

And he was. Dominic was the manager of the Emerald Bay Casino. He handled the money, smoothed over problems with clients, and kept the dealers in line.

Dominic never let me close enough to see the full picture. He kept me at the edges, hovering just outside the real decisions. I was the errand boy—bringing him dinner, dropping off packages, delivering messages. Sometimes, “messages” involved me holding a gun or making a man beg for his life. I didn’t mind the violence. It was what I’d been trained for. What pissed me off was the exclusion.

I was a Costa, for fuck’s sake. I deserved more than scraps.

“I’m not a damn toy for you to play with.”

“ Lower your voice when you speak to me .”

“One day, Dominic, someone will put a bullet between your eyes. Then we’ll see if you choke on the food or your own blood first.”

Dominic said nothing. He pushed the food aside and unholstered the gun from his belt. He held it out, aiming for my head. If he expected me to flinch, he had the wrong bastard. Not a day went by someone hadn’t threatened my life. The barrel of a gun was more familiar than a hug, though I never had a real family around to be so kind. Still, I didn’t trust Dominic’s narrowed eyes. Sweat prickled my neck as he lowered the gun to the table and spun it, offering me the handle.

“Go on,” he said. “Take your shot.”

I knew better than to move. Even a snort would’ve buried the bullet in my brain. Maybe not tonight, but it’d punish me later. I kept my eyes forward.

Dominic walked around the desk. My pulse raced as he loomed over me. His scent, spicy and masculine, swirled in my nose.

Dominic grabbed the front of my chair. I scowled, hating his strong jawline and the dimples popping on his cheek. How my defiance seemed to give him pleasure.

Sick fuck . “What are you looking at?”

He sneered. “At a man who’s got more fight in him than sense.”

“Because you are up my ass every five minutes with some bullshit demand!”

“You could’ve stayed with her,” he purred. “But here you are, right where I wanted you.”

I froze. Was he fucking with me, or did he mean it? The one perk of the Costas? Progressivism . A man with Dominic’s inclinations would’ve been beaten and tossed in the bottom of a river by the Bratva. The Italians, good Roman Catholics that they were, didn’t seem to care. Dominic made them money, and that was the business they minded.

“Back off with that shit,” I said.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Everything about him irritated me. Blood rushed to my face.

Dominic’s fingers closed around my forearm. The physical contact jolted through me. My gaze zeroed in on his cufflinks as I yanked my arm back. My boss was hitting on me.

Jesus .

“I’m not here for your amusement.”

“Would you like to be?” he murmured.

“Fuck off.”

His stare dropped to my lips. “You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” I stood, scraping the chair back. “Keep your hands off me!”

He smiled. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

This guy had brass balls. My mouth dried. Did he think I liked men?

What the hell gave him that idea?

Nothing. He was fucking with me. Obviously. He’d found a new way to make my life miserable. Captain or not, I wasn’t letting him screw with me.

I stepped forward, swallowing my discomfort. I was so close, I felt him breathe. Dominic didn’t react. If anything, he looked hungry.

“I’m not here to entertain you,” I said.

“Maybe not,” he whispered, “but I love the show.”

“Don’t use that voice with me.”

“The one that gets under your skin? I want to see if it gives you goosebumps.”

He wouldn’t back off, so I couldn’t either. Damn . He moved closer. His leather shoes bumped mine, and the shock ran up my leg. The dick-swinging idiot couldn’t help but assert his dominance at every opportunity.

“Back off,” I warned.

“Or what?”

I shoved him hard.

Dominic pulled me into a headlock, his other arm snaking around my torso to pin me against him.

His body heat burned through two layers of clothing, choking the air from my lungs. The contours of his muscles stirred something primal within me.

“You’re walking a thin line, sweetheart . Remember who you’re talking to.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“So easily riled up,” he taunted, his lips brushing my ear. “You sure you’re straight? It’d explain why you’re so uptight.”

I gritted my teeth. He was a twisted asshole.

“Fuck you.”

He smiled. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Get off me!”

He tightened his grip. “You think you can talk to me like that and walk away?”

“I’m not apologizing to you.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I think you will. Go on, Luca. Say you’re sorry.”

“Go to hell.”

Dominic’s arm pressed tighter across my chest. “Say it, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“I’d rather pass out.”

Dominic laughed. “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

His hold tightened. The air in my lungs faded, and black dots gathered in my vision. Fuck. He wasn’t bluffing. I imagined myself unconscious at Dominic’s feet.

“Okay!” I wheezed. “I’m sorry.”

Dominic eased the pressure, and I drew in a shaky breath. “See? Was that so hard?”

I wanted to break his nose.

Dominic released me with a push. I stumbled forward, catching myself on the desk.

He smiled. “You should see your face. Ditch that girl you’re dating. I don’t think she’s meeting your needs.”

I’ll kill you .

I straightened, adjusting my shirt. My heart still pounded. Dominic watched me, his eyes gleaming. He reached into his jacket and produced a manila folder, which he passed to me.

“Go to Sunset Tavern. Give this to Santino.”

I ripped it out of his hands. “What’s in it?”

“Not your concern.”

I fingered the envelope. “I should know in case I’m pulled over.”

“Then I suggest you obey the traffic laws. Go. It’s late.”

His stern glare shifted something in my chest.

Eat shit .

“Oh, and Luca?” Another taunting smile touched his lips. “Watch that temper. It could get you into trouble. And I’d hate for you to realize how much you’d love it.”

I fisted the envelope as that stroked warmth low in my belly. His timing was no accident. His goal was unsettling me. The prick hoped I’d forget I was straight, stumble into his arms, and do something reckless.

I flipped him off and left.

I hoofed it to Sunset Tavern.

It was nearly empty, just a few old drunks nursing their last calls. I found Santino in the back, his face lit by a flickering Edison lightbulb. I slapped the envelope on the table.

He glanced at me. “From Dominic?”

“Yeah.”

Santino tore it open, scanned the contents, and grunted thanks . I didn’t ask what was in it. Probably more orders.

“So, how’s it going with Dom?”

Fuck. I couldn’t get away from the prick. Dominic controlled every aspect of my life, and now I could feel his body. Why hadn’t I punched him? He’d deserved it. The feeling of his hard forearm on my neck wouldn’t leave me alone.

I knew better than to disparage my superior. Didn’t have the rank in the business or the trust of the family for that. I shrugged. “I can do more than run errands. I could help the family more if I wasn’t getting coffee and dry cleaning.”

Santino wasn’t swayed. “Gotta pay your dues.”

“Hard to play gopher when it’s getting me nowhere. I’d like a little respect.”

“Respect is earned.”

Not like the Costas ever gave me the chance. The Russians had grabbed me when I was just a kid. Raised me up in hiding. Groomed me for their success. Blood was thicker than water, but the Costas ran ice in their veins. My kidnapping was their mistake, yet I was the one who’d have to atone for a stolen life.

“I’m asking for a chance to prove myself,” I said.

“And we gave it to you.” Santino sipped his cocktail. “Dom’s a captain. He plays rough. You think you’re the first he’s shoved around?”

Am I the first he’s flirted with?

I couldn’t bring that up. I seized an empty glass and a bottle behind the bar. The family drank wine. Always wine. Red wines, white wines, blush wines. A bottle for every meal and one for after.

I hated the shit.

But I hated even more how they all snickered when I poured myself the vodka. I drank it anyway.

“I spent years under the Bratva’s thumb, Sonny. Years of waiting for the right moment to get my life back. I’m not about to let some prick make me his puppet.”

“Is this about him being gay?” he asked.

I stiffened. “Jesus. What?”

Santino stared at me. “You heard me.”

The background noise dwindled into a murmur. His question gnawed at me. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“You’ve got a problem with him.”

“Not because he’s gay.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

“Yes. It’s not about that.”

Santino frowned.

I didn’t hate him for his sexuality. He was demeaning. He paraded his power over me, knowing he could push my buttons and get away with it. The smug expression on his face when he barked out an order. Worse, Dominic had crossed a line. I couldn’t tell anyone about it without risking my reputation.

“Dom knows my history .” I swallowed a mouthful of vodka. “Doesn’t even try to give me work. He sends me on stupid errands that mean absolutely nothing to the family.”

“Are you following his orders?”

Fuck me. “I do what he says.”

“Then you’re serving the family.” Santino tapped the table. “And that’s very valuable right now. You hear me? The more you push back, the worse it looks for you.”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Santino cautioned me with a quirk of his eyebrow. “People keep saying you should’ve found a way out earlier.”

Like it was that easy. “Yeah? Where the hell were they when I was locked in a room?”

“Luca, I’m on your side.”

Did I even have a side anymore? I downed the rest of the vodka and sighed.

“Don’t let him get to you.”

I released a tense breath. “I’m not.”

“You are. You’re giving him power over you.”

My mind flashed to Dominic’s condescending smirk, how his touch burned through my skin as he restrained me. Unbearable.

I gulped down the rest of my drink. “Not for much longer.”

“What does that mean?”

I shook my head, sliding off the stool. “Nothing. Give my best to Delilah.”

Santino’s glare drilled into my head. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The Bratva kept me caged for years, but I’d never felt this powerless until Dominic. He’d humiliated me, and I wouldn’t let it slide.

I stood up, my heart pounding.

Decision made.

Dominic had to die.