Chapter 6
~Dominic~
Sitting in my office at the safe house, I try to catch up on Family business.
But my thoughts keep drifting to her. Elle doesn’t belong in my world.
It isn’t safe to keep her here. Yet my mind rebels at the thought of sending her away.
I feel a connection I can’t ignore—but for her safety, she must go.
If my enemies suspect that I’m attached to a woman, they’ll paint a target on her back. That’s why—my past encounters with women have always been brief, nothing more than a way to satisfy needs.
My focus should be on locating and eliminating my traitorous uncle.
With an alliance between New York’s Cosa Nostra and Chicago’s Bratva on the line, the Family cannot appear weak.
If Misha Pavlov, the Pakhan, catches even a hint of discord in our ranks, he may lose faith.
The last thing we need is for him to break the alliance and turn to the Albanians.
My grandfather was one of the founding fathers of the Italian Cosa Nostra, in New York. He and my father were old school, viewing any type of collaboration with the Russian, or Irish mafias—as taboo. My grandfather made his money in the skin trade, weapons and drugs.
Since my father’s death seven years ago, when I became the don of the New York family, I’ve systematically discontinued any involvement in human trafficking. Breaking links with the Albanians who were heavily involved.
This was always a source of discontent between my father and me.
He, together with the council members, believed that the practice was too profitable to terminate.
My uncle was the loudest in expressing his displeasure.
But I underestimated him; I didn’t believe that he had the balls to attempt to get rid of me.
I’m positive that he had help. Salvatore doesn’t have the capability to make such a stand against me.
After speaking to Dario and Dante earlier, I found out that I had been taken two days before they found me.
All the while, I was in a makeshift cell in the basement of an abandoned building in Upstate, New York.
I often leave my security detail behind when checking in at Zen, one of the night clubs owned by the Family.
When I didn’t show up as expected and wasn’t reachable by phone, Dante became worried.
Dario had the route between my apartment in midtown Manhattan, to the Zen nightclub in lower Manhattan, patrolled.
My Porsche was found two blocks away from the club at an intersection. I was ambushed as I stopped at a red light, and was then dragged into a van that sped away.
Dario was able to hack into the CCTV and eventually track the vehicle I was whisked away in.
They lost track of the vehicle, but after careful backtracking, they were able to identify where it was swapped several times to avoid detection.
Luckily, we have in our arsenal, IT and Security Departments with top-notched equipment and staff.
They are well versed in detecting this sort of evasive maneuver.
So once my location was identified—Dante and Dario led a team of our soldiers to bust me out of my prison.
Uncle Salvatore unfortunately got away. The bastard ran like the coward he is, once he heard gunfire in the distance. He’s known for working in the shadows, like the snake he is. With others doing the dirty work for him.
Oftentimes, I've wondered how he made it as one of our capos.
My conclusion is that Salvatore was only able to attain and ultimately keep his position, because he was the brother of the former don.
No matter how incapable he proved to be.
The former don, my bastard father, did it for sentimental reasons. It was old fashioned nepotism.
A brisk knock interrupts my thoughts. “Come!” I bark. Dante and Dario slip inside, shutting the door behind them. “Your absence has raised concerns,” Dante says. “Since you’ve gone quiet, Pavlov is questioning your commitment to the alliance between our Families.”
Dante, my underboss, has been running interference with Misha Pavlov, the Pakhan, while I recovered. As a sign of good faith, we were meant to meet in person—in Chicago, on Pavlov’s territory—the day after my abduction. That meeting was to solidify the alliance.
The decision to keep my kidnapping a secret was made to prevent the Cosa Nostra from appearing weak.
“We must return to Manhattan,” I say. “Dante, organize a Council Meeting. It’s time the members are apprised of the betrayal in our ranks.
” My shoulder throbs, pain pulsing with every breath.
I massage it gently, easing the ache. Dante nods, already pulling his phone from his pocket to make the arrangements.
“Dario, we’ll need to make a detour before heading back to Manhattan to drop off Elle.
” The thought of sending her back fills me with remorse.
“Leave two of our men behind to ensure she’s safe,” I add after a pause.
“Instruct them to stay out of sight.” Dario hesitates.
“Do you think she’s in danger… that they’d link her to us? ”
“I don’t know. But it’s better to be cautious. She’s innocent—dragged into our world against her will.”
“Okay, you’re the Boss,” Dario says, before slipping out to carry out my orders.