Chapter 22
DOMINIC
Istand at the water’s edge with the city as my skyline, like a mob boss in a movie shaking down a cop. The cop in question is Marco Aquila. He’s had a soft spot for Vale Construction ever since we helped build a new community center for his precinct’s softball team.
He takes an envelope from his pocket, frowning at me. A short man, intelligent eyes, with combed-over wet black hair. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”
I try to let my voice come out casually, in control, not like a man whose world is spiraling into chaos.
Ever since Sebastian dropped the bombshell on me, I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s all a lie.
He’s a liar. But my mind won’t stop skimming over memories, nasty comments here and there from my father, things I’ve buried and ignored because I loved him too much.
Marco hands me the envelope.
“Just tell me,” I grunt.
“All signs indicate that he’s telling the truth,” Marco sighs.
“The accident report, police report, hospital report, they’re all inside.
It seems your father managed to pay off a witness and bribe one of the investigators.
There’s also an official letter of complaint from Sebastian Armitage.
A local officer told me some of them were pissed at the time, but the officer your father bribed was their superior. Nothing they could do.”
I walk right to the edge of the water, trembling.
My father ran down a family of three, killed the wife and child, then refused to face justice.
Worse, when the husband showed up years later, he didn’t even recognize him.
Which means he ran from the crash before he had a chance to get a look at him, then ignored his complaints after.
“Do you need me to stay?” Marco says from behind me.
“No,” I whisper. Louder: “No.”
I never claimed to be perfect, my father whispers. Remember that time I threw the cup at the wall. I always said I wasn’t aiming it at your mother. But that was only a justification. I was trying to hurt her.
I blink, the water shifting, blurry. Tears? Am I seriously going to cry?
I wipe my face, disgusted with myself. I hated Sebastian for so many years, and now… but no, he still went too far. He still drove my mother to an early grave.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Izzy.
Izzy: I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’ve spent the last five days driving around Uncle Aaron’s properties and taking photos.
No one suspects a woman on her own. Anyway, I’ve got photo and video evidence of multiple drug deals at properties he owns, plus an assault and robbery.
There’s no way “Uncle Seb” didn’t know about any of this.
I’m also willing to go public on a PR level, to tell the world he was willing to use a sick old woman as a blackmailing tool.
My head spins as I read the message, pride warring with fear. She can’t put herself in harm’s way like this. Does she think Aaron will just take this lying down? Or his puppet master, Sebastian? And yet, it’s clear she’s done good work.
Dominic: If you go public against your uncle, you’ll have a target on your back, Songbird.
I quickly delete the nickname. Goddamn, I wish she were here, wish I could wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair.
Dominic: You need to move on with your life. That’s the best move.
Izzy: I’m not thinking about making moves. I want to make this right. I violated myself when I betrayed you. I’m not a sneak or a liar. I don’t betray people. That’s not who I am.
Dominic: You had no choice. Anybody would’ve done the same.
Izzy: But you still had to cut me out.
Because my father warned me never to trust. My wife-killing, child-killing father, my cop-bribing father, explained that trusting people will always lead to ruin.
You already knew I cheated on your mother. What’s a little killing on top of that?
Dominic: Don’t do anything stupid. You need to protect yourself and make your grandmother comfortable.
Izzy: With all due respect, sir, this isn’t your decision. I’m telling you so you’re not shocked if something happens.
Dominic: Bullshit. You told me because you want a response. Because you miss me as badly as I miss you.
I’m breathing hard when I click send, looking across the water at the city glistening in the setting sun.
Izzy: You miss me?
I smirk, can’t help it.
Dominic: Don’t act so shocked, Songbird.
This time, I don’t delete the nickname.
Dominic: But that has nothing to do with you putting yourself at risk.
Izzy: Maybe this is something I need to do. Not for you, for myself.
I call Mikhail, grinding my teeth.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
“At her apartment.”
I hang up, then turn and stride toward my car.
It feels like months since we last saw each other, not the days it’s actually been.
I know I’m violating the pledge I made to myself by going back to her, but I can’t let her do this without talking to her first. There’s no telling what Aaron might do in retaliation.
I speed through the city, squeezing the steering wheel hard.
When I pull up outside her apartment building, the sun has set. I nod to the security and walk to the main entrance. I press down on her buzzer, shifting from foot to foot. My heart is thudding hard at the prospect of seeing her again.
“Yes?” she asks over the intercom.
“It’s me,” I say.
Without another word, she buzzes me up. I take the stairs two at a time. In her apartment, she’s got printed-out photos laid all over her coffee table. There are men moving heavy bags, a fight caught mid-punch, as well as multiple drug deals.
She looks up at me, a small smile on her face, those bright, beautiful eyes alert with purpose.
I rush to her and pull her to me. I love the gasping noise she makes, part relief and part pure pleasure, with a little sassy resentment mixed in there. I think she might tell me to stop, that I can’t just turn up like this and start kissing her.
But then we melt into each other. Her lips find mine immediately.
She moans and grips onto my sides, pulling herself closer, like she wants there to be no room between us.
I slide my hands over her back and grip her hips tightly, possessively.
I’ve never felt a rush of relief like this.
It’s like the world suddenly makes sense again.
She leans back in my embrace, gasping. “What the hell?” she whimpers.
“I know,” I groan, not needing to ask what she means.
She feels it too: that instant heat, the flood of hunger and connection.
The kiss goes on for a long time. Her moans make me rock-hard, my tip pushing achingly against my pants. My heart is a war drum as I try to calm myself down and remind myself why I’m here.
I take a step back, nodding to the table. “This is reckless, Songbird.”
She smiles dangerously, tucking her hair behind her ear. She’s still wearing the earrings. “Maybe it is. But as long as Grandma’s safe, I don’t care.”
I study the photos. “I have to admit, you’ve done good work.”
“I can’t believe the cops missed all this. It’s so blatant.”
“Maybe they don’t know to look. Or they’re in on it.”
She bites her lip. “Do you think they could be working with him?”
I drop onto the couch, laughing savagely. But it comes out more like a sob catching hoarsely in my throat.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She sits beside me and puts her hand on my leg.
Heartache wars with lust as I imagine taking her wrist and guiding her higher and higher…
“I’ve got no right to hate you for what you did,” I murmur.
“That’s not what’s on your mind.”
I smirk, tilting my head at her. She looks back at me knowingly, eyebrow raised.
“You can read me like a text, eh?” I tease.
“You seem… different.”
“My moral code led me to cut things off with you after I learned what you did,” I tell her. “Now, I know my moral code is bullshit.”
“What do you mean?” She asks after a long pause.
I grit my teeth hard, wondering how I can explain this without having a full-scale breakdown.
“It’s complicated,” I mutter.
“Oh, and I’m stupid?” She teases, nudging me playfully, a beautiful smile on her face, taking any sting out of it.
“I told you about my Uncle Seb,” I say.
“Hmm,” she mutters, nodding.
“It turns out, he’s a shareholder in the company that owns Aaron’s company. He was the one who ordered your uncle to infiltrate my company… and your uncle used you as a tool. Seb has been harboring a vendetta against me for years.”
She gasps. “Stealing your family’s fortune wasn’t enough? What is it with this guy?”
“I can’t blame him,” I sigh. “He’s gone too far. He needs to let it go. This… this generational blame shit, it’s not healthy. But I can’t hate him for it.”
“How is that even possible? He’s a monster!”
“My father turned him into a monster,” I say, staring at the dark TV screen, at her reflection looking back at us. “He was drunk and crashed his car into Sebastian and his family. He killed Sebastian’s wife and son. Then he ran and bribed and bullied his way out of justice.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Dom, I’m so sorry. That’s awful for you.”
“Awful for me?” I stand, walking to the window, trembling with anger and hurt.
She walks up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.
“Awful for you,” she says, and I feel her nodding against my back.
“I can tell how much your father meant to you. I get the feeling that you built this business, lived your whole life, to make what happened to him right. Even after you learned about his mistress, you couldn’t hate him. But this is too much, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whisper, a croak in my voice. “Way too damn much. He was supposed to be my hero, and now… How can I ever think of him like that again? How can I not hate him? My own father.”
I’m sorry, son.
But that’s just my mind. Who’s to say he would actually apologize if he were here? That’s one of the twisted punchlines in this joke of a situation. I’ll never be able to confront him.