A massive four poster-bed sits high up; thank goodness I spot a small wooden stool below the bed. I’m tall but I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll be able to get into the bed without it. Expensive-looking sheets and a thick white comforter are on the bed. On the wall above the padded white leather headboard is an oil painting of Renaissance Florence Italy with storm clouds hovering over the Duomo.
The room isn’t as large as the one I had in the condo, but I like it more. It’s homey in here, there is a chaise lounge in deep blue silk with a small table beside it in one corner. Piled in front of it are three medium-sized boxes with my name on them. My life had been distilled into three boxes and some clothes.
Sighing, I go into the walk-in closet. Even with a large center island it’s big, all my clothes are in here. I check the closed door and find a massive five-piece bathroom. Holy crap, the shower is huge, and there are so many jets and showerheads I lose count at nine. The moment I spot it all I want is to jump into the bath. It’s designed like an old clawfoot tub, but it’s wider and there are jets set into it. Getting closer I find there are settings that control the temperature and jets. This wasn’t the kind of cage I was expecting.
Nothing about this place is what I thought it would be, just like Dominic Sabatini.
***
Dominic
As I knew it would, the news of my impending marriage to Regina has spread like wildfire among the family Vincent informs me. I check my watch as Vincent pulls into the driveway of Carlo
Toro’s home. His request to see me as soon as I was back in Chicago at least still carried a hint of an ask instead of a demand. I wonder, was it as Dominic Sabatini, or the future son-in-law of his Don?
His heir, Salvatore, was the son of his sister. Their family wasn’t quite as old in this as mine, but they were just as powerful. Sal’s father and his grandfather were newer, they made a lot of money and they liked killing, which went far in the Outfit. Sal’s father demanded Sal over Luca as Carlo’s heir.
Johnny accepted it, as Luca was more of an asset in Vegas. However, I’m well aware Carlo doesn’t like Sal. Carlo had been unable to hide his disdain for his nephew as he shared his concern over Sal pressing for the Outfit to move into trafficking women, despite it being forbidden from the founding of the Outfit.
Our eyes had met briefly, Carlo only nodded, seeing the warning I gave him. If Sal attempted to traffic women, I would shed his blood before the sun set. That was almost two years ago, since then Sal has dropped the women issue, instead driving his crew further into the drug trade, with oxy and heroin his main income.
Entering Carlo’s home, I’m greeted with tense nods from his men; they do not attempt to remove my piece. Good. They do ask that Vincent remain outside. I nod to Vincent.
Carlo’s office door is open, he is alone in the room. I close the door. He’s aged since I saw him last only three weeks ago, I wonder how much of it is since the call from Johnny. He holds up his glass. “Drink?”
I shake my head as I undo my jacket and sit in front of his desk. “Johnny called you.”
He leans his head back to study me. “I know you don’t want to be underboss or Don when the time comes.”
My eyes narrow on him as I nod.
“Johnny doesn’t care. Frankly, I’m glad for it. Sal—” He shakes his head. “I can barely control him now. Him taking over will be the end of us, of my family at the very least.”
Fucking hell, no.
“Dom, we need you. This is your birthright. It always has been.”
“I don’t want this.” I spit out the words. Bitterness wells up inside me.
Carlo scoffs. “Too fucking bad. Your duty is to the family, to your Don. When Johnny dies, I become Don and you become underboss.”
Exhaling slowly, I attempt to rein in my anger. It doesn’t fucking help.
“Approval has been given, you will kill Sal, before he kills you.”
Ice forms over my anger, everything else is secondary. “Does he know it’s coming?”
“No idea. He’s not the brightest. I assured him that I wouldn’t allow Johnny to change my plans.”
“Where is he now?”
“Getting fucked by some whore.” He leans over and offers me a slip of paper. It has an address on it along with an apartment number. “His men don’t go with him when he goes there.”
I take the address. “I’ll call you when I’m in place. You’ll tell him he needs to come to you. He’s still driving that damn Ferrari?”
A nod. Carlo agreed something so flashy was a liability. Sal had no concept of not making waves, he loved eyes on him.
Checking my watch, I stand. I don’t bother giving him another look, still pissed at what he’s agreed to. Before I’m out of the house, I’m on the phone with one of my men, Mikey. He can meet me with what I ask for.