Felicia and I are in the kitchen preparing a few snacks. While I wash some grapes in the sink, my daughter dumps an entire box of crackers onto a plate. Dominic and Johnny stand by the entrance, speaking in low tones. If I strain, I can just barely make out what they’re saying.
“He wants to know why you haven’t stopped by the office,” Johnny says anxiously. “He wants answers.”
“Believe me, so do I.”
“What should I tell him?”
“Tell Lorenzo I’m working on his warehouse plans. He’ll know what it means.”
“And you think that’ll keep him off your back?”
Dominic’s jaw ticks. I’ve learned how to read him a little better over the last couple of days. Whenever his jaw works like that, it means he isn’t sure at all.
“It’ll do for now,” is his blunt answer. “Any word on Elio?”
Johnny shakes his head. “No sign of him. We’ve tried conducting a search, but we can’t get close enough to Renato’s territory without raising the alarm. I’m worried they might actually have killed him.”
A chill races down my spine.
This is all so surreal. Just a few days ago, Elio was standing in this very kitchen, cracking jokes and spending time with Felicia. And now he’s…
“If they did get him, he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. There has to be evidence somewhere. Keep looking.”
Johnny shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Believe me, sir, we’re trying. But Lorenzo doesn’t want us to keep looking. He says Elio’s as good as gone.”
My stomach churns. I might be pretending to ignore their conversation, but I’m actually super invested. According to Dominic’s source, Lorenzo is trying to ice his right-hand man and use it as an excuse to start an all-out war with a rival racket. If that’s true, it makes sense to take out Dominic’s own right-hand man. Slowly but surely, Dominic is being isolated — a chess piece surrounded on all sides by opponents ready to attack. All it would take is one mistake, one misstep, and Dominic will have nowhere to turn.
“Here!” Felicia says cheerfully, skipping over to Dominic with her plate full of crackers and grapes. “Sharing is caring,” she announces proudly.
“We’ll talk more about this later,” after smiling at her, Dominic says hastily to Johnny. “Keep an eye out. Stay alert.”
“Yes, signor,” he replies before making a hasty exit.
“What does that mean?” Felicia asks, balancing her plate on top of her head.
I hurry on over and take it from her before she makes a mess, setting it on the entryway table. “It means ‘sir’ in Italian.”
“What’s Italian?”
“It’s another language, sweetie.”
“Another language?” my daughter gawks. “How many are there?”
“Lots,” I say.
She points at Dominic. “I want to learn!”
Laughing lightly, I pick my daughter up and hold her out to Dominic. “You have to ask nicely, Felicia.” Dominic noticeably stiffens. He doesn’t reach out to take her. “Would you mind?” I ask him. “I left the sink running.”
He swallows, hesitantly lifting Felicia under the arms. He holds her away from his body, awkward in every way imaginable. “Uh… I guess. I’m not really a teacher.”
I snort. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m holding the child.”
“Yeah, like she’s a bag of poop.” Felicia giggles at the word poop. “That’s not how you hold a kid.”
Dominic takes a deep breath, worry etched into the features of his face. “She’s just… so small.”