42. Dominic
42
DOMINIC
It’s been quiet for a long time as she just sits and pokes at her pasta. Maybe she’s lost her appetite. Maybe she’s had enough. Maybe she’s digesting our conversation and has more questions but doesn’t know how to ask them.
“What do I do with you now, sweetheart?” I murmur, knowing I need to separate myself from her, even if I now have this engulfing need to hold her close, stroke her hair, kiss her languidly as if time is standing still, and have her fall asleep in my arms.
Aftercare. That’s what I want. That’s what she needs.
Fuck. That’s what I need.
And it’s the other thing I don’t indulge in because it forms a strong emotional bond that doesn’t match my rationale. We haven’t done anything, but it’s as if she’s opened all her little doll house windows and allowed me a peek into her inner world, right inside those secret rooms which hold her fears and desires.
When my phone rings in my jacket pocket where I left it on a side counter, I heave a sigh in equal measures of relief and annoyance. It’s for the better, though, to have the outside world come in. Right now, both of us have to get our minds off everything that happened in this kitchen—and everything that didn’t happen…and what we both still want. There’s no misunderstanding this part.
“I’ll clean the kitchen,” Ariana says as she waves towards the mess we made cooking, and I nod as I stride over to my discarded jacket and answer the call.
“Matteo?”
“What are you up to?” he asks without preamble.
“Just had dinner. Give me a sec.” I lean into the corridor and call a guard over to come watch over Ariana while I take his call.
On purpose, I take her half-filled glass of wine by the stem in passing. I make as if it’s mine, as if I plan to finish it off while talking to Matteo, and hope she won’t notice. She doesn’t notice, but gets the drift as the guard walks in and rolls her eyes at me.
Yes, there’s trust between us, and promises, but the knife block is right there, and she hasn’t alleviated any of my suspicions yet. In fact, she’s only made the pile bigger.
“What’s up, Matty?” I ask, walking to a lounge where there’ll be some privacy. Portia must have thrown caution to the wind, because all the doors that were closed when Ariana arrived now stand open.
“Tasha’s been begging me to bring her and Gigi to see Ariana. Add Carla into the mix, and I’m outnumbered and cornered.”
He sounds a bit harassed.
“Your calvary has you with your back against the wall?” I joke with a chuckle, but the last thing I need is these women warming up to Ariana while everything is still in the balance.
“I don’t want any of them to come to the Don’s house,” Matteo says. “That isn’t happening.”
“And I’m not letting Ariana off these premises, either,” I retaliate. “Not until we have some answers. It’s the safest place we have bar your apartment?—”
“Fair enough,” he cuts me off. “It isn’t going to happen then, because the Trapanis are leaving for Italy. If Ariana comes here, Tasha will only convince me to let her stay?—”
“And you only want to fuck your wife on every surface you have in that apartment without an audience. I get it.” I really do. Fuck. I rake a hand through my hair, cussing inwardly.
“Good. We understand each other. How are things going there?” he asks as I start pacing the room as if I have a nervous fucking tic. Which I have. It’s called Ariana Morelli. “Did Portia unearth anything?”
“I don’t know. Something’s off, and I can’t put my finger on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just a gut feeling, but Portia couldn’t get out of here fast enough earlier. Ariana is definitely sitting on some information she hasn’t shared, but she’s going to crack. The signs are all there.”
“You’re speaking in circles, bro?”
I drop my head back to stare at the ceiling, suppressing a groan. “It’s just a gut feel, Matty, so just trust me with this, okay?”
“Okay-okay. You know I do.”
With a huff, I empty the wine into a potted palm that looks like it needs a drink and place the glass on a side table. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the DNA results, and then at least we’ll have some answers. I have her fingerprints, and Stan will deliver them to Benedict tonight. Those should be quick, depending on his contacts and how deep they need to dig.”
“Good.” Matteo sighs into the phone. “What a fucking day.”
“You’re telling me, bro. I hardly slept last night.” And I’m not done yet. “Nothing new from the Petrovs?”
“No, and we’re going to ride this wave for as long as possible. When the shit hits the fan, it’s going to be fucking spectacular.”
True, that. “We’re in this together.”
“Yep. Teamwork makes the fucking dream work. Let me have those results when you get them.”
“Will do.”
We ring off, and for a moment, I stare at my phone’s screen. We’re all on edge with this situation, and going around Ariana’s back to get info on her doesn’t exactly sit well with me, but in my world, closed books get pried open. I’m going about it as if she’s a treasured ancient manuscript.
The one side of the lounge is covered with bookcases and cupboards at the bottom, and I open them at random to look for a container to put Ariana’s wineglass in. I find an old shoebox with instruction booklets for dated electronics. I tear the booklets into separate pages and scrunch them up to form some padding for the box. Once I’ve nestled the glass between the paper, I close the lid. I phone Stan with instructions, and by the time I’ve walked to the front door, he’s waiting for me.
“Get this to Benedict right now. Move it as little as possible. It’s fragile.”
“Yes, boss.”
I wait for Stan to drive off and take in the garden in the last of the late summer’s light. There’s no sign of Bruno, but the security detail with their Alsatians is patrolling the grounds. It seems excessive right now, but I know how things spin out of control in our world. Better safe than sorry.
When I stroll back into the cleaned kitchen minutes later, Ariana is sitting at the counter, twiddling her thumbs. The security guard stares at her from where he is leaning with his butt against the far-side counter, not taking his eyes off her, his hand resting on the weapon by his waist.
Yep, the word about this woman and how she whacked one of our men almost into the afterlife with a fire extinguisher has done the rounds.
“It’s all good, thank you.” I nod to the guard so he can make his exit.
As soon as the man is gone, Ariana looks up at me. My earlier question hangs in the space between us. What do I do with you now, sweetheart?
“I’m really tired. Portia worked me to the bone,” she says. “Can we just go to bed?”
The way she says this makes me want to smile, but fuck. I’d love nothing more. She should sleep alone, but I bet she doesn’t want to be alone, locked up.
“Where are you sleeping, sweetheart? Alone in that small room with a guard outside the door, or in my bed, like last night?”
“You have a really big bed,” she says softly, blinking at me as that sweet blush spreads over her cheeks.
Until you’re in it, sweetheart. Then it shrinks to all just you. “Yeah.”
“I slept properly for the first time in months last night… I know it’s weird, but you…you?—”
She buries her face in her hands, and my heart pangs as her shoulders shudder with those quiet sobs of hers.
She’s been through too much.
“It’s fine, Ariana.” I’m not sure if I can do two nights of sleep deprivation and still keep shit together, but I’ll figure that out tomorrow.
“You make me feel safe, Dominic,” she whispers as she wipes at her tears. “I haven’t felt safe since my mom died. Least of all with a man.” She makes a pathetic little wave between us and shoots me a woebegone smile. “I’ve never had this before.”
That’s how simple it is to shatter my resolve, because all I want to do now is to pull her into my arms and prove again and again to her that I am her safe space. That I’m worthy of her, even if deep down, I’m none of these things.
The only thing I’ve proven to myself is that I’m as weak as any man when it comes to that one woman.
“Come then, sweetheart.” I hold out my hand to her, and as she places her warm, slender fingers in mine, it hits me that this woman is going to break me before I can break her.
This one. She’s my downfall.
She’s going to make me the weakest link.
And I’m not sure there’s any way of surviving that.