Chapter Eleven
Dominic
The air inside the meat-packing plant tasted like copper and cold grease, but all I could smell was the gunpowder lingering on my hands and the rage boiling in my gut.
I moved through the shadows of the rusted machinery like a ghost made of muscle and bad intentions.
Every time a Vitti soldier stepped into my line of sight, they didn't get a chance to scream.
I was moving with silent, lethal precision, my heavy boots hitting the concrete with a rhythm that sounded like a funeral march.
I had left Marcus and the rest of the crew to handle the distractions at the front gate.
I didn't want a shootout; I wanted a massacre.
I had slipped through a ventilation shaft in the rear, my bulky frame tight in the ductwork, until I dropped into the darkness of the main floor.
Now, I was a predator in their backyard, and I was hunting the only thing that mattered.
"Luca!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the hollowed-out building, bouncing off the meat hooks and the steel tables.
I stepped out into the circle of light, my black varsity jacket open, the gold rope chain around my neck catching the dim glow.
I stood there—a dark-skinned mountain of a man with a thick beard and eyes that had seen enough death to fill a cemetery.
I didn't hide behind a crate. I didn't duck for cover.
I stood right in the center of the floor, my hands empty but my spirit armed to the teeth.
"I'm in the building, you coward! Bring her out and maybe I'll kill you fast!"
A door at the far end of the floor creaked open, and Luca Vitti stepped out, holding Donny in front of him like a shield.
Seeing her in my robe, her face bruised and her ginger curls matted with sweat, did something to my soul that I couldn't describe.
It was a physical pain, tearing sensation in my chest that made the tattoos on my arms feel like they were on fire.
"Stay back, Dominic!" Luca shrieked, his voice cracking as he pressed the barrel of a chrome pistol against Donny's temple. He was shaking so hard the gun was rattling against her skin. "She told you it was a trap! My men are surrounding you! One word and you're a ghost!"
I looked at Donny, and for a split second, our eyes locked.
She wasn't crying anymore; she was looking at me with a fierce, desperate loyalty that told me she was ready for whatever came next.
I saw the sparkle of the diamonds I'd given her, still tucked in her ears, and it reminded me of the night by the pool—the peace, the weed, the promise.
"You think these busters you hired are gonna save you, Luca?
" I asked, taking a slow, deliberate step forward.
I heard the click of several rifles in the surrounding darkness, but I didn't stop.
"Look around you. You hear that silence?
That's the sound of your perimeter disappearing.
My men don't play, and I definitely don't play when it comes to mine. "
"I'll kill her!" Luca screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger. "I swear to God, I'll take her with me!"
"Then you better be fast," I growled, my voice dropping into that flat, terrifying register.
"Because I'm two hundred and forty pounds of pure hatred, and I'm ten feet away from closing your eyes forever.
You think you're a boss? You're a middleman, Luca.
You're a footnote who made the mistake of touching the only thing that made me want to be a better man. "
I saw the moment Luca's nerves broke. His eyes darted to the left, expecting a shooter to emerge from the darkness, and in that millisecond of distraction, I moved. I didn't pull a gun; I launched myself forward, my massive frame covering the distance before he could even blink.
I grabbed the barrel of the pistol with one hand, twisting it upward so the shot discharged into the ceiling, the deafening crack echoing through the warehouse.
With my other hand, I shoved Donny out of the way, sending her sliding across the concrete toward the safety of a steel table before I was on him.
I slammed Luca into a brick pillar, the impact sounding like a car crash.
I didn't use a weapon; I used my hands. I used the knuckles that had been forged in the hood, the strength that came from a lifetime of being the biggest, baddest nigga in the room.
I hit him once in the ribs, feeling the bone snap, and then I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground until his feet were dangling.
"You put your hands on my wife," I whispered, my face inches from his, the thick hair of my beard brushing against his pale, sweaty skin. "You threatened my legacy. You made her bleed."
"Please…" he wheezed, his eyes bulging, his face turning a sickly shade of purple.
"There ain't no 'please' in the Masters house," I asserted. I didn't snap his neck; I dropped him, letting him crumple to the floor in a heap before I turned my back on him. I didn't need to finish him yet; I needed my girl.
I ran to Donny, falling to my knees beside her.
I pulled a pocketknife from my jeans and sliced through the zip-ties on her wrists, my hands shaking for the first time in my life.
The second she was free, she threw herself into my arms, her face burying into the crook of my neck, her sob a sound of pure, unadulterated relief.
"I got you, baby," I murmured, my large arms wrapping around her, pulling her so tight I felt like I was trying to fuse our souls together. "I got you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I let them get close."
"You came for me," she sobbed, her fingers digging into the leather of my varsity jacket. "You really came for me."
"Always," I promised, kissing the top of her head. "Until the world stops spinning, Donny Rae, always."
The sounds of the final cleanup echoed from the front of the building, the sharp pop-pop of suppressed handguns and the shouting of my crew.
Marcus stepped into the light, his rifle at low-ready, his eyes scanning the floor.
He saw Luca groaning in the dirt, and then he spotted us.
He gave me a sharp nod, then turned back to the door to give us a moment.
I stood up, pulling Donny with me, keeping her tucked under my arm. She was shivering, so I pulled off my varsity jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The heavy leather and the scent of my cologne swallowed her small frame.
I looked back at Luca, who was trying to crawl toward the exit. I pulled my piece from my waistband—a custom, blacked-out .45—and leveled it at the back of his head.
"Dominic, no," Donny whispered, her hand resting on my forearm. I looked down at her, seeing the plea in her eyes. She had seen enough blood for one day; she didn't want this to be the last thing she remembered.
I took a deep breath, the monster inside me snarling for satisfaction, but the man—her man—won out.
I lowered the gun and looked at Marcus. "Taz is alive, but he's hurting.
Take this piece of trash to the old warehouse.
My father wanted a message sent, so we'll let him deliver it.
But keep him alive until I say otherwise. "
I turned back to Donny, cupping her face, my thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Let's go home, baby—our real home. The war is over for tonight."
As we walked out of the meat-packing plant and into the cool night air, the sirens of the city wailing in the distance, I realized that the price of the legacy was high, but the price of losing her was something I could never afford to pay.
I looked at the six-foot-six shadow I cast on the pavement, then at the girl walking beside me in my jacket, and I knew that from this day forward, things were gonna change.
I was still the king of the A, and I was still a refined menace.
However, I was also a man who had found his heart in the middle of a burning warehouse, and I was never gonna let it out of my sight again.