Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
DOMINIC
T here’s a commotion at the main entrance, shouting, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps. I hastily pull myself from sleep, roll out of bed, and check down the hall, wondering what the hell I’ve missed. I’m just in time to see my immediate boss, Vito Rossi, crowing with satisfaction as Kaiden, the man tentatively known as his ‘son’ — though neither by blood nor choice — and one of his other thug henchmen drag an unconscious woman into his suite and dump her unceremoniously on the floor.
“What the hell?” A sliver of unease hits me squarely in the chest. An unconscious woman here at the LCN compound never bodes well… especially when the Viper is behind it. We’ve already had one close call when the idiot abducted the girlfriend of an English Duke. The feds took far too much interest in our organization after that. And now, this has all the makings of another shitshow.
Backing away before Vito sees me, I make my way back to my quarters and grab my phone. Normally ratting someone out, especially someone as highly ranked as Vito, the Don’s own brother, would never cross my mind. But there’s too much unrest right now. I’ve never been an admirer of the Viper, even though he’s all but family, but my place isn’t to question his actions. Lately, it’s like he’s become unhinged, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed it. So, when Mika, my cousin, but more importantly, the heir apparent, being Don Salvatore’s son, asked me to report anything suspicious directly to him, I agreed without pause.
He’s number one on my speed dial and answers immediately. “What’s going down, Dominic?” Mika knows I wouldn’t call unless there’s a need.
“A couple of Vito’s guys just brought in some unconscious woman,” I tell him, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t recognize her, but with Maricela gone, I have a bad feeling.”
“Keep your head down,” Mika instructs me. “I’ll make my way over.”
The line goes dead, and I follow orders, knowing I need to avoid triggering any suspicion if I’m to continue my surveillance of the Viper. I can’t help wondering what he’s up to though. He’s the Don’s right-hand man, his most trusted advisor, but recently he seems to be going out on a limb, doing things that have the potential to cause a war. Or worse, get us all arrested. No matter how many members of law enforcement we have in our pockets, it doesn’t mean automatic immunity. There’s only so far an organization can go without triggering incriminations, and Vito is skating dangerously close to the edge, putting all of us in danger.
I listen out but hear nothing. The Viper’s private quarters are well soundproofed, so I’m not surprised. Still, it doesn’t escape my notice when Mika turns up.
“What are you up to, old man?” I hear my cousin demand, uncaring who can hear him take Vito to task. Mika’s always been that way. He’s not beefed out or well-built like a lot of the muscle-heads, nor is he tall, standing at a modest five foot nine. But he has an undeniable presence and never shies away from a confrontation. He’s direct and fair and is highly regarded by the soldiers. Something that will put him in excellent standing when he takes over the organization, which is currently ruled by fear, rather than respect. I’ve also never seen him beaten in a fight. At twenty-four, he’s almost a decade younger than me, but the guy moves like a goddamn ninja. I sure as hell never want to get on the wrong side of him.
“Mind your own business, boy ,” I hear Vito retort with a sneer. There’s never been any love lost between those two.
“If you’re putting the organization in danger, then it is my business,” Mika tells Vito in no uncertain terms. “I can’t believe after having this conversation when you abducted the Duke of Buckingham’s woman, that once again I’m forced to intervene because you’ve gone too far. Roisin Maguire, for fuck’s sake?”
I’m not familiar with the woman, but I know the name Maguire and realization hits me. Merda. The imbecile has only gone and kidnapped a relation of the Irish mob bosses. We don’t know for sure it was them who took Maricela. Vito’s pissed off a lot of people after all, and he refuses to say one way or the other. But it’s not out of the question, considering what I’ve heard on the grapevine. And if he’s taken a Maguire, I can only assume the stories I’ve heard from some of the dumbasses too stupid to hold their tongue, are accurate. After all, the one person who knows for sure who might retaliate the hardest, is Vito himself.
What the fuck is he playing at?
“What next, Vito?” Mika never calls him zio , or uncle, nor any kind of address that denotes respect. “Will you be taking a Radaeva in case it’s the Bratva who have Maricela? Or do you know more than you’re saying about why the Irish mob might risk a war to take her?”
Whatever is said next must take place inside the Viper’s suite, because there’s nothing else to hear, and I pace my own generous rooms, a combined lounge-kitchen plus a bedroom with an en-suite shower room which I’ve earned as I’ve clawed my way up to capo. A far cry from the claustrophobic bunk rooms the soldiers share if they don’t live locally. It’s not like the complex doesn’t have enough room to offer something a little more comfortable. There are rooms upon ostentatious rooms that never get used, but Vito and Sal are old school. They think keeping the soldiers hungry — not literally, I hasten to add — encourages them to climb the ranks to something better and separates the wheat from the chaff.
In some ways, they’re not wrong. It certainly worked for me. Although there are those who would argue I got a foot up since Don Salvatore is my uncle — my mother, Lizzie, being the sister of his wife, Lorna. Mama would argue, of course. She never wanted me involved in this business and kept me as far away from it all as she possibly could. I can’t say it would have been my first choice, but sometimes, when it comes to family, choice is something that’s made for you.
Well, it is when it comes to the Mafia.
Perhaps if there had been more male heirs than just Mika, it would have been different. But the Don’s sister and her husband, Franko, have two daughters. Franko being Sal’s second consigliere, as well as his brother-in-law. Yeah, he has two, probably because everyone knows the Viper has at least one screw loose, but Vito is Sal’s blood brother, so like I said, family. And Vito is childless except for Kaiden, the boy child he took as payment for a debt. Of course, Kaiden’s little more than cheap labor, the fall guy, if you like, who Vito gets to do all his dirtiest work, because he basically owns the dude. So, when it comes to male blood, it’s just me and Mika… and even I’m only here by default.
Of course, if things go south, there’s no prize for guessing who’s first in line to take the fall. The top guys always manage to slip the shit — even the fucking Viper, despite his reputation. They’re the ones with the money and the power. The small guys, the soldiers and associates, they can often squirm out of trouble since they aren’t that high on the food chain. They might do a little time, but nothing major. Which means it’s my neck on the line — mine and Kaiden’s. I swear that’s all Vito keeps the guy around for. There’s certainly no love lost between them.
All in all, I don’t blame Mika for asking me to keep an eye on Vito. This is his legacy, and his uncle seems to be going out of his way to fuck it all up. All while Mika himself is trying to claw the organization into the twenty-first century.
It’s a badly kept secret — at least among the higher echelon — that Mika despises some of the stakes Vito has talked Sal into backing. The skin trade especially. I don’t blame him. That kind of thing is archaic. And if there’s one thing that’ll take an organization down, the one thing the authorities are less inclined to turn a blind eye to, it’s people smuggling and enforced prostitution.
I’m startled out of my reverie by hammering on my door. I’m about to yank it open when I remember I’m not supposed to be a party to whatever is going down, so instead I shout, “Just a minute,” before stripping off my t-shirt, so it looks like I’ve just climbed out of bed.
I open the door to find a hard-faced Mika and glowering Vito. Never a good combination. “What’s up, boss?” I ask, seemingly at Vito, but quickly flicking my eyes towards my cousin.
“Gotta job for you,” Vito spits, clearly furious. “Need you to guard someone for me.”
From behind his back, Mika gives me the barest nod, and I can read between the lines enough to guess Mika’s maneuvered Vito into this situation but has been wily enough to let Vito think it was his own idea.
“Sure thing, boss. Just give me the deets.”
Vito is happy enough that he throws Mika a smug smile before turning back to me. “There’s a woman in my room,” he tells me, and I keep my face carefully blank. “She’ll be staying a while. Find her somewhere in…”
“In the main compound,” Mika interjects, and Vito thins his lips, even though the main compound is, ostensibly, neutral ground for both of them, since they each inhabit their own wing of this massive complex.
The Viper opens his mouth to argue, but Mika cuts him off. “You got your choice of guard. The girl stays elsewhere. You want her here, it’ll be under one of my capos.”
A low growl emanates from Vito’s throat, but he accepts the deal. “You find her somewhere suitable and stay with her unless you’re needed for a job,” he tells me, and I wonder if he thinks Mika might just let her go… which is entirely plausible. I know damn well my cousin is far from comfortable with this turn of events. Having the Maguire girl here is tantamount to declaring war, so we all need to tread carefully.
“Dominic, fetch the girl now and get her situated,” Mika tells me before turning his attention back to his uncle. “Vito, we’ll talk this over with my father first thing in the morning.”
I leave them to their differences and slip away to save the poor girl from whatever the Viper had planned for her. She might not know it, but Roisin Maguire has had a lucky escape.