Chapter 3 Dominic #2
"Your moral high ground is built on quicksand.” I’m disappointed in her that her morality has limits.
That she can so easily ignore the red flags waving around her.
“You condemn me for violence while your actions indirectly cause it. You criticize my businesses while your pension fund probably invests in companies doing worse. You judge me for bending rules while working for an organization that rewrites them when convenient and doesn’t give a shit about collateral damage. "
She takes a deep breath. "So, what? We're all corrupt? That's your defense?"
"No. My point is that the world isn't divided into good guys and bad guys. It's just people making choices with the power they have." I lower my voice. "What’s interesting is how society deems it okay in some circumstances but not others. It’s okay for you to break the law, but no one else.”
I consider telling her about her father and how he worked for my father, a fact that I’m one-hundred percent sure she’s unaware of.
I decide to hold on to that tidbit.
I could become more handy at a later time.
I see the conflict in her eyes. Professional certainty in a tug-of-war with personal doubt.
“The world isn’t perfect.”
“Really?” I shake my head, not hiding my disappointment. “That’s your answer?”
She turns away as if she knows her response is lame.
For a moment I think I’ll let her off the hook, but then I change my mind. She wouldn’t let me off, so why should I ease up?
"Let me ask you something else." I keep my voice casual. "Did you kill Gio Sarto?"
Her expression shifts from defensive to genuinely shocked. "What?"
"Gio Sarto. Used to work for me." I step closer, watching her reaction carefully. "Did you take Rocco thinking you could turn his mother against me or maybe Luca? Expected Gio to take the fall because of the tension between our families?"
She backs away, shaking her head. "That's insane."
"Is it? When Luca didn't kill Gio like you expected, because contrary to FBI belief, we don't go around murdering people.” Well, we do sometimes, but there’s a damn good reason.
Luca knew Gio wanted him dead, but my order prevented that from happening.
Luca also knew Gio didn’t take Rocco, so he had no reason to kill Gio, even if I wondered for a moment if he had. “The plan for Luca to kill Gio failed so someone had to silence him." I keep my voice steady. "Was that you, Olivia?"
"You're out of your mind." Her voice rises. "I had nothing to do with any kidnapping or murder."
"Really? Because if Gio did have anything to do with Rocco’s kidnapping, it’s quite convenient that the one person who could identify the kidnapper ended up with a bullet in his head.
And a few hours later, you’re the boy’s savior.
Oh, and let’s not forget, there’s no official report on any of it. Only the FBI could cover up all that."
Her reaction tells me she wasn’t involved, but there’s something in her eyes that suggests she’s working the case in her head and perhaps coming up with the same idea that La Corona has: her boss is involved somehow.
She gives her head a quick shake. “That call about Rocco could have come from anyone. Even someone in your organization.”
“Yeah, no. If someone in my world took Rocco, they’d have called me or Luca. People in my world don’t call the Feds, that is unless that Fed is on their payroll. Tell me, Olivia, are you on the take?”
“You know I’m not,” she bites out.
I shrug. "I lost a man and nearly a child from my family, and the people who are supposed to protect and serve don’t give a shit. All I’m saying is if you're looking for monsters, maybe start with the mirror."
Her face flushes with anger. "That's rich coming from you. If anyone killed Gio, it was someone in La Corona covering their tracks. If you think he knew about Rocco’s kidnapper, you’d kill him.”
“Maybe, but not before finding out everyone involved. No, someone killed Gio either because he knew something, or they wanted me to think Luca killed one of my men. Someone is investing a great deal of time to create conflict with my partners.”
“Again, that sounds like something people in your world would do. Maybe a rival family. It’s not what the FBI does.”
I shake my head slowly. "I have the ballistics report."
That stops her cold.
"Same caliber and rifling pattern as standard FBI-issue sidearms." I watch her carefully. "Interesting coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
She recovers quickly. "Many people use the same type of gun. That proves nothing."
"Maybe not in court, but that doesn’t make it not true.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
I hold her gaze. "Why is an FBI agent who claims to stand for justice so quick to assume one of my people killed their own, rather than considering other possibilities? Why are you so focused on putting me in prison for crimes you can’t prove, but willing to look away when given questionable warrants or told to fake reports? "
"You should leave," she finally says.
"Probably." I don't move. "But I think we're just getting to the interesting part of this conversation."
“If you want to talk, come to my office tomorrow, we’ll talk.”
I shake my head, so disappointed that she’s not willing to consider what I’m saying. Perhaps she’s not the woman I thought she was.
"You know, for someone who prides herself on seeking justice, you're remarkably comfortable looking the other way when it's convenient."
I move closer, close enough that she has to tilt her chin up to maintain eye contact. "Have you ever considered that perhaps the reason your boss buried Rocco’s kidnapping investigation is because the truth would reveal something inconvenient?"
Her breath catches. "You're trying to manipulate me.” But there's no conviction behind her words.
"Am I?" I reach out, my fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. She doesn't pull away. "Or am I simply a man who's tired of playing a game where the rules keep changing?"
She doesn’t respond.
"We're not so different, you and I, Olivia. We both want the same thing, to protect the people we care about." I gesture between us. "This dance we've been doing, maybe it's been keeping us from seeing the real threat."
She scoffs, but it lacks her usual bite. "Your charm might work on your usual conquests, Vitale, but I'm not that easily swayed."
"Aren't you?" I smile, noting how her eyes drop briefly to my lips. "I think my charm is working fine, it’s an inconvenient truth that isn’t working.” I take her wine glass from her hand, my fingers deliberately caressing hers.
I take a sip from the same spot her lips touched before setting it down.
"All I'm asking is that you consider the possibility that I'm not your enemy. That perhaps we're both pawns in someone else's game."
Her resistance is crumbling. I can see it in the softening of her stance, the slight parting of her lips.
She's fighting it, but the pull between us is becoming impossible to deny.
It’s fascinating how the tough FBI agent who's been hunting me for years now looks so deliciously conflicted.
"You know, in another life, we might have made quite the team," I say. "Your investigative skills, my creative problem-solving."
Olivia snorts, but there's a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Creative problem-solving? Is that what we're calling racketeering these days?"
"Alleged racketeering," I correct, raising a finger. "You’ve yet to prove a single charge."
"Yet being the operative word." She cocks her head, giving me that flirty confidence that makes my dick twitch. “I'm very patient, Vitale."
"Four years of patience." I lean in, decision made. I’m going to have this woman. "Most people would have given up by now."
"Most people haven't seen your financial records."
I laugh, genuinely amused. "So, it's my spreadsheets that keep you up at night? Not my charm? I'm wounded."
"Your ego seems intact to me." She doesn't back away, challenging me with those fierce eyes that first caught my attention last year when she confronted me in the basement of her building.
"Tell me something, Agent Ricci." My gaze drifts to her lips for a moment before returning to her eyes. "If I weren't who I am, and you weren't who you are, would you have said yes to that date?"
"We'll never know, will we?"
"We could find out." I reach out, settling my hand on her waist, testing the waters. She doesn’t move away. "No shop talk. Just two people getting to know each other."
"And then what? I ignore what I know about you?"
"Maybe you discover what you don't know about me." With my other hand, I draw my thumb over her cheekbone. "Maybe you find out I'm not the monster you think I am."
She steps back, but it feels more like self-preservation than rejection. "This is a dangerous game, Dom."
It's the first time she's used my nickname.
The sound of it in her voice does something unexpected to my chest.
"Life's a dangerous game, Olivia." I smile, slow and deliberate. "But the real question is, are you more afraid of the danger, or of discovering you might actually like me?"