Chapter 19 - Dominik
So much to do, I thought as my eyes scanned the files on the table before me, glancing at the documents on my laptop occasionally. I never leave work to pile up like this. I could have someone else handle it, but when it came to cross-checking financial accounts and deliveries, well… I barely trusted anyone with that.
Was it hectic? Yes. Did it require excessive amounts of brain power? Absolutely. Which is why, in such endeavors, solitude was my friend; in these moments, my men and the maids did well not to disturb my progress with work, leaving me in peace.
Engrossed with work, I heard a muffled voice outside my door but chose to ignore it. It’s probably nothing. Perhaps something needed sorting out—hence, the commotion outside my door.
Everything’s fine, I assured myself.
Silence ensued—but not for long.
The office door opened, and I shut my eyes for a moment, wondering who would be so bold. Who, really, would dare to barge into my office without my say-so?
Ready to give the unfortunate fellow the harshest reprimand of his life, a punishment laced with pain, I opened my weary eyes to see Maya making her way towards me, a strange glint in her eyes.
The nerve!She knew my reputation, yet whatever fear she’d once felt for me had started to dissipate. I wanted to blame it on the pregnancy and a score of other things. Hormones, perhaps.
But, somehow, I knew this was different. Hers was a knowing look… one demanding explanation.
An emotion graced her face, like anger—no—it was anger, but not the familiar petulant rage I was accustomed to. I hadn’t seen this determined look on her face before, and it was dangerously close to terrifying—troubling, at the least.
However, despite my unease, my eyes fell to her stomach. Why? Why is she so worked up, in her condition? Does she not care for herself or the baby? Something must be very wrong.
I pushed myself up to my feet. “You shouldn’t be getting so excited—it’s not good for the babies.”
Maya strode to the desk and planted her feet, facing me.
“Okay. Clearly you have something on your mind.” I sighed and gestured to the chair across the desk. “Calm down. Have a seat.”
Maya looked at the seat disdainfully, then returned her gaze to me, eyes blazing. “I’m the size of a fucking whale! I’d break the damn chair.” Huffing, she threw a file on the table in front of me.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, my patience wearing thin. However, the file looked familiar, and I suddenly realized what it was.
She had discovered the truth.
“That is my brother.” Maya set a hand on her waist. “What—and, please, be honest—did you have to with his death? I do not want lies.”
I looked at the file, then back to Maya. Sitting, I let out a noisy breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. Why—and how—does she have the file on her brother’s death from so far back?
I sat, wondering how she’d come across it. It wasn’t my job to explain deaths I’d had no part in. The people I killed disappeared, like they never even existed. But this… How had it come to light?
“What the fuck? Were you in my study?” I gritted my teeth, and she scoffed.
“That isn’t the issue here.” She scowled, throwing her hands up. “Answer my question!”
My hands clenched into fists, but I didn’t move. Fuck. I should have been more careful. Should have given orders not to let her near the study, or at least kept it locked securely.
“Dominik!”
I took a deep breath and fixed my gaze on her. “I wasn’t planning to tell you until after you gave birth. I didn’t want to endanger your life and those of the twins with needless worry. You know how such news can affect one’s health.”
“I don’t care,” she spat. “What happened? How are you involved in this, because, so help me God—”
“Maya. Relax.”
Her mouth snapped shut, though the anger—and hurt, I realized—never left those beautiful green eyes.
“Whatever I told you would be merely speculation, but… I suppose I can show you.” I reached for a drawer, pulling it open, and found a disk labeled Stone.
It wasn’t just any recording. It was the CCTV recording of the moment Maya’s brother died.
I pushed a button on the side of my laptop, and the CD-ROM tray slid out. Setting the disk onto the tray, I pushed the same button, and the tray slid back into its slot.
I brought the video up, one I had watched multiple times, then turned the laptop to face Maya. Eying me curiously, she moved her focus to the screen.
Her finger was hovering over the touchpad, about to push play, when I stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, her eyes searching my face.
“I have to warn you,” I began. “Forget how strong you think you are. This is your brother. As such, this won’t be easy to watch. I’m sure that, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t want you seeing this. This is footage of your brother’s murder.”
“I need to know what happened,” Maya said in a cold tone, laced with worry. “People have given so many different versions of the story… It’s hard to know what the truth is when it’s generalized or obscured with lies.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I need to know—you owe me that much, at least.”
I didn’t think I owed her anything… Well, perhaps I did. In any case, if I didn’t let her see the video, she’d be worried. If I let her see it, she’d be worried. There was no way to get around it, and right now, her face was lined with anxiety.
Not wanting her to see this alone, I moved to her side and hit play.
On the screen, Artem and two other Bratva men engaged with another group.
I glanced at Maya to see her peering the screen, focused intently, like she didn’t want to miss a thing.
As my eyes returned to the video, someone from the opposing group fired at Artem, who ducked behind a low wall. Dust and chips of cement sprayed out, putting a stop to the bullets.
I saw Maya’s eyes narrow as she recognized her kidnapper at his worst. He aimed at a few of my men and fired off a round of shots, his intent to kill.
Some Bratva men opened fire, and Mike, too, scurried behind a wall to hide.
Mike screamed something, his lips moving silently, but I knew what he’d said: “You’re a dead man!”
Artem’s mouth opened in a retort.
More bullets were exchanged, lodging in walls and breezing past men, but they all knew that death was hanging in the air, impartial, waiting for the unfortunate.
After several minutes, someone stepped out between Artem and Mike; Artem lowered his gun, but didn’t leave the barrier—the only guard between him and death.
Maya’s eyes widened when she recognized her twin: Michael Stone.
Maya’s brother raised both hands up in the air as Mike stepped out from behind cover. He pointed the gun at Michael, who spoke.
Mike replied, then frowned as Michael spoke again.
Michael lowered his hands and opened his mouth again, but Mike raised his gun and shot him in the head.
Maya whimpered.
Artem and his men resumed fire, and Mike ducked, darting back behind the wall.
Suddenly, Artem’s head shot up; he looked around, seemingly confused, then signaled for his men to pull back. Mike, too, retreated, leaving Michael’s body laying in a growing pool of blood.
The video went dark, and I turned to Maya. “I have this tape because it could incriminate my men.” I took her hand. “There’s no justice out there on the street. There are politicians who would use this to put me away, while people like Mike are left to roam the street. Yes. I am bad, but I control myself—I’m a danger to danger itself.”
Maya sobbed, but didn’t pull away when I took her in my arms as I continued.
“You must understand that your brother’s death was associated with the Bratva and the Red Jackets. He was caught in a fight between us. We termed it ‘street violence’, or ‘gang clash’—whatever label the media likes to slap on these things. In other to protect my men, the CCTV was removed.”
I pressed my lips into a tight line as Maya continued to weep. “This is just how we do things. We make people and whatever could link us to them vanish.” Putting a hand under her chin, I looked into her eyes. “However, we always come through for our own.”
Maya’s tears had not slowed. She was listening, but she wept; I imagined that, for her, it must be almost like her brother had died a second time—only this time, she had seen it happen.
Suddenly, Maya shoved away from me with fury in her eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are? Who are you to deprive my brother of justice?”
Her words surprised me. Many I’ve known in my world have died for far less, but one thing was certain: There was always justice. It may have taken a while, but I had, in fact, avenged her brother.
“I did give your brother justice, Maya,” I said gently. “You yourself were there the day I killed Mike.”
“The law has a due process. There’s a trail. There’s—”
“A jury and a judge, and lawyers debating back and forth over what was caught live on camera, only for an obvious criminal to occasionally go free? No.” I shook my head. “There’s no justice in that, Maya. If Mike was alive, he would tell you the same thing. If you had tried to press chargers, he would be out before a fortnight, and guess who he’d be coming for next?”
I saw the answer in her eyes before I even said it. “You.” I sighed. “This is how we get things done. Kill or be killed: It’s the rule of our world.”
Maya wailed and threw herself at me, pounding her fists against my chest, but I barely felt it. Her body shook, and whatever work I had thought of accomplishing that day went out the window.
“I’m mad—I am so mad at you for hiding this whole thing from me!” Maya sobbed.
“Understand, Maya,” I said, “that I was just getting to know you. Did your name sound familiar? Yes, it absolutely did. But it didn’t immediately click.” Taking a deep breath, I admitted, “I had to look you up to know what I was missing, and there it all was, plain as day. The truth of your association with the deceased.”
I wrapped my arms around her, trapping her in my embrace. “I just want you to be certain of one thing: If I kept anything from you, it’s because I wanted to protect you. We alone knew how your brother died, and we know what we said and did to have it stay so. Gang violence was our best bet—it’s the truth, mostly—but the Bratva is above the street, so there was no way it would have been associated with us.”
She looked up at me, and I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “However, I do wish I’d told you sooner. I’m sorry that I didn’t. I seriously thought nothing would come of this.” I raised a hand, gesturing between us. “But with each day, you keep drawing nearer to my heart, and it all makes sense. Your brother was truly innocent, but unfortunate—like many others before him and those who will come after him. Forgive my methods, but I did what I had to do to protect the brotherhood.”
She sniffled. “You’re selfish. You only care about yourself and your needs, no one else’s.”
My arms tightened around her in a momentary warning. “I don’t need to defend myself to you. If I’d known you’d be this childish, perhaps I would have just—”
At that moment, I heard the sound of rushing water as the skirt of Maya’s dress grew damp, and liquid rushed down her thighs.
“What just happened?” I asked, taking her shoulders and holding her at arm’s length.
“No, no, it’s too soon,” Maya said through teary eyes.
“What’s too soon?”
“My water broke!” Maya shouted, panting.
I sobered immediately, helping Maya lower herself onto the chair.
I shook off my shock and confusion, reached for my phone, and called for an ambulance.
My mind became consumed with one thought: Maya’s going into labor—the twins are on their way.