Chapter 28
DOMINIC
Tomasso doesn’t go to Withers Street. That gives me a small sense of satisfaction. At least one plan tonight is working.
Rafe and I ride in the back of the town car, watching the tracker crawl across the screen in his hand.
Tomasso heads into Brooklyn, but not toward the club we fed him.
He cuts east, takes two turns that make no sense unless he’s trying to lose anyone stupid enough to follow too close, then slows near an old industrial block with more dark windows than streetlights.
“There,” Rafe says.
The dot stops. I stare at it. Sofia is in there. Marco too. It’s also where Tomasso takes his last breath.
Rafe slips his gun from beneath his jacket and checks it once. “How do you want to play this?”
“Your team takes the front. Make it loud enough to hold attention there, but don’t be sloppy.”
He nods. “I’ve got you covered. Go get your girl.”
We leave the car before Bradley fully stops. Tomasso’s car sits parked half a block down, empty. I keep walking.
The back alley is narrow and poorly lit. Rafe’s men fan out without needing orders. Two go toward the front. Three stay with him. Bradley follows me, close and silent.
We find Tomasso by the side entrance, talking to a man at the door. I don’t call his name. I don’t give him the gift of a warning. Bradley grabs the doorman first, one hand over his mouth, a blade at his ribs. I step behind Tomasso and press my gun to the back of his head.
He freezes. “Open the door,” I say.
His shoulders go stiff. Slowly, he turns his head just enough to see me from the corner of his eye. For the first time all night, he looks afraid.
“Dominic,” he says quietly.
“Door.”
The doorman is shaking now. Bradley tightens his grip, and the man fumbles with the keypad. The lock clicks.
Tomasso swallows. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“I let you lead me to her. Don’t bother lying to me now.”
For a second, the old resentment flares. The same bitterness I’ve caught in pieces for years, always dressed up as concern or advice or family obligation. He thought he should have had more. More power. More respect. More of what my father left behind.
“You should have never gotten involved with that girl,” he whispers.
I drive the gun harder against his skull. “Move.”
We go inside.
The club is dark. Green lamps throw weak light across the bar. I shove Tomasso forward.
“If Marco or Sofia are hurt,” I say quietly, “you’ll be the one to pay for it.”
Tomasso says nothing.
Gunfire erupts at the front of the building. The sound tears through the club, sharp and controlled. Men shout. Chairs scrape. Someone runs across the floor above us. The building comes to life all at once.
Two men round the hall ahead of us with guns drawn. I shoot the first one before he finishes raising his weapon. Bradley takes the second. Tomasso flinches so hard he almost trips.
“Keep moving,” I tell him.
He does. We reach a locked door near the back hall. Tomasso hesitates. I press the gun to his side. “Open it.”
“I don’t have the code.”
I lean close enough that he can feel my breath. “Don’t fucking lie to me, cousin.”
He types four numbers. The light turns red.
Bradley grabs the back of his neck and slams his face toward the keypad, stopping an inch before impact.
“Again,” he says.
Tomasso types with shaking fingers. This time, it turns green. The lock releases.
Behind the door is a private room with a long table, a crystal decanter, and Sofia.
She sits in a chair near the wall, pale and shaking, one hand curled over her stomach. A man stands several feet from her, gun drawn toward the front of the building, distracted by the noise.
For one second, she looks at me like she doesn’t trust what she is seeing. Then her face crumples.
I shoot the guard before he can turn.
Sofia flinches, but she doesn’t scream.
I cross the room fast, leaving Tomasso with Bradley. “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head. Tears spill over anyway.
“Did they touch you?”
“No.” Her voice cracks. “Not like that. Dominic, my dad. They took him out. They were hurting him.”
“I’ll find him,” I promise her.
I reach for her, and she grabs my shirt with both hands, like she’s been holding herself together by force and can’t do it anymore. I pull her against me and let myself have one moment of comfort. Her body shakes against mine, and I press my mouth to her hair because I need to feel her breathing.
The relief is so violent it almost bends me in half. Then a voice cuts through the room.
“How touching.”
I turn with Sofia still partly behind me. Enzo Calderone stands in the doorway across the room, two men flanking him. His suit is still neat. His face is calm. He looks more irritated than afraid.
Calderone looks at Tomasso and smiles faintly. “You brought him.”
Tomasso lifts his chin. “He followed me.”
“Same result.”
Sofia’s fingers tighten in my shirt. She looks from Calderone to Tomasso, and I feel the moment she understands.
“Tomasso,” I say.
He finally turns to me. “You were going to destroy us.”
“That’s your defense?”
“You made yourself weak,” he snaps. “For her. For a baby you didn’t even plan.”
Sofia goes still.
Calderone watches us with open enjoyment.
“Enough,” I say.
“No,” Tomasso says, and something desperate enters his voice. “You can still make a deal. Enzo is willing to negotiate.”
I almost laugh. “A deal.”
“With him.” Tomasso gestures toward Calderone. “You give him territory. Ports. The lending channels. Whatever he wants. You keep the girl and the baby.”
Sofia makes a small, wounded sound. I step forward.
“And you just get, what? The satisfaction of pulling one over on me?”
“No, Dominic. I want the business. And if you don’t step aside, I’ll have Enzo kill your precious little girlfriend and your bastard.”
I raise the gun and shoot him in the chest, without hesitation or warning.
Tomasso staggers back, eyes wide with shock. He looks down at the blood spreading across his shirt, then back at me. He clearly didn’t think I had it in me. Guess he’s not the only one capable of betrayal.
His mouth opens. Nothing comes out. He drops to the floor. Sofia gasps behind me. I don’t take my eyes off of Calderone.
“Family,” Calderone says softly. “Messy, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
His smile fades. The two men beside him raise their guns. The room explodes.
Bradley fires first. I pull Sofia down behind the heavy table as bullets tear into wood and glass. The decanter shatters. Liquor splashes across the floor. Sofia covers her head with both arms, but she stays low.
I shoot one man through the throat when he moves too far into the doorway. Bradley takes the other in the shoulder, then again in the chest.
Calderone disappears into the hall. I am up before the last body hits the floor.
Sofia grabs my wrist. “My dad.”
“I’ll get him.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
Her face goes red with anger. I don’t back down.
“No,” I repeat. “I need you alive.”
“Then don’t leave me with him,” she says, looking at Tomasso’s body.
I look at Bradley. “Stay with her.”
He nods.
I move into the hall.
The front of the club is chaos. Rafe’s men have pushed through fast. Too fast for Calderone to regroup. Bodies sprawl near the bar, broken glass across the floor, smoke hanging low in the air. I hear Rafe shouting orders from somewhere ahead, alive and angry.
Then I hear Marco. A broken groan from behind a half-closed door near the back. I go toward it. Calderone comes out of the shadow with a gun in his hand and Sofia in front of him.
For one second, my mind refuses to process what I’m seeing. She was behind me. Bradley was with her.
Then I see Bradley on one knee in the hall behind them, bleeding from the side of his head, trying to lift his gun and failing.
Sofia’s face is white. Calderone has one arm around her chest and the barrel of his gun pressed under her jaw. Everything in me stops.
“Drop it,” Calderone says.
I do. The gun hits the floor. He smiles.
Sofia’s eyes lock on mine. She is terrified. She is also furious.
“Sofia,” I say quietly.
Calderone tightens his arm. “Don’t talk to her.”
I keep my eyes on hers. “You’re okay.”
She gives me the smallest look that says, No, I am obviously not okay.
Calderone shifts his weight, dragging her backward toward the hallway.
“You built an impressive machine, Vieri. I’ll give you that. But every machine has a weak point.”
Sofia’s gaze drops to her feet. Her heel is near Calderone’s instep. I see the decision before she moves.
“Do it,” I tell her.
She drives her heel down hard onto Calderone’s foot and throws her head back at the same time, hard enough to make him release her. The gun jerks away from her jaw.
Bradley’s gun is on the floor within reach. I grab it as Sofia twists sideways, making herself small and furious and impossible to hold. Calderone raises his weapon again. I shoot him once in the wrist.
He screams.
Sofia drops to the floor, covering her head with her hands.
I shoot him again in the chest. Calderone hits the floor on his back, eyes wide. A pathetic death for a pathetic man. No less than he deserved. I stand over him until he stops moving.
Sofia is on the floor, back up against the wall, shaking so hard she can barely sit upright.
I reach her and drop to my knees. “Are you hit?”
She shakes her head.
“Sofia.”
“I’m not hit,” she says, and then she breaks.
I pull her into my arms.
“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have gotten in the car.”
“It’s okay.”
“I ruined everything.”
“No.” I pull back enough to take her face in my hands. “You were scared and angry. You’re not the one who betrayed me. All I care about is that you’re okay.”
She cries harder. I press my forehead to hers. “My dad,” she whispers.
I stand and pull her up with me, keeping one arm around her. “Let’s go get him.”
Rafe reaches us then, blood on his cheek that doesn’t seem to be his. He looks at Sofia once, then at me, and some of the strain leaves his face.
“Marco?” he asks
“He’s just down this hallway,” I say.
Sofia makes a sound and starts forward. I keep my arm around her, but I don’t try to stop her.
He’s on the floor, barely conscious, hands still loosely tied in front of him. His face is swollen and bruised, blood leaking from his mouth. His breathing is rough but steady.
Sofia drops beside him. “Papa.”
His eyes flutter open.
It takes him a second to focus. “Sofia?” he whispers.
“I’m here.” She reaches for him, then stops like she is afraid of hurting him. “I’m here.”
His gaze moves to me.
Shame passes over his battered face before pain swallows it. “Get her out,” he rasps.
“I’m getting both of you out.”
He tries to argue. He doesn’t have the strength.
I crouch beside him. “Marco, I’m going to lift you.”
“I can walk,” Marco mutters.
“No, you can’t,” Sofia and I say at the same time.
I slide one arm behind Marco’s back and the other beneath his knees. He groans when I lift him, and Sofia flinches like she feels it in her own body.
“Easy,” she whispers.
“I’ve got him,” I tell her.
Rafe clears the path out. His men have the building secured, or close enough. I carry Marco through the club, past broken glass and bodies and blood and the wreckage of a family betrayal I’ll process when Sofia isn’t shaking beside me.
Outside, Bradley has the car waiting at the back entrance, blood dried at his temple and murder still in his eyes.
“Dr. Greco is waiting at the penthouse,” he tells me.
“Good.”
Sofia gets in first. I lower Marco carefully across the seat, his head near her lap. She touches his hair with shaking fingers, whispering to him in Italian too soft for me to catch.
I climb in beside them.
Rafe leans through the open door. “I’ll clean this up.”
I nod.
Sofia doesn’t let go of Marco’s hand for the entire drive. I don’t take my eyes off her.
Chiara is waiting by the elevator with Dr. Greco and two medical bags when we arrive at my building. The second she sees Sofia, she covers her mouth and starts crying.
Sofia steps out of the car, pale and hollow-eyed.
“I’m okay,” she says before anyone asks.
Dr. Greco looks at her stomach, then her face. “I’ll decide that.”
Sofia lets out a broken little laugh.
I carry Marco inside and we make our way up to the penthouse.
One of the guards helps me get him to a guestroom, and Sofia urges Dr. Greco to check him first. She doesn’t argue, which is exactly why I’ve trusted her for so many years.
Thank God Sofia just happened to stumble onto her for her obstetrics needs.