My heart twists in my chest. “You mean… he does this often? Bring girls with him, I mean.”
“Oh, yes. All the time. He has a new girl on his arm every week. Really, you’ll have to excuse me. I didn’t mean to offend.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to cry. What the hell is wrong with me? First Corey, and now I’ve been played for a sucker by Dominic? But how can that be? I swear to God, what I felt when I was with Dominic was real. Fleeting and new, but sincere and intimate. He was sweet and encouraging, made me feel safe and comforted. Was I just another notch in his belt?
The more and more I think about it, the more I realize how silly I’m being. Did I honestly expect to fly off to Italy with him for a couple of weeks of wild fun? I don’t know a thing about him. I don’t know what he does for a living, I don’t know who he works for, and I don’t even know his last name.
Without another word, I storm off the jet, climbing down the steps in a hurry. I need to get my life in order, do some real soul searching. I’m tired of playing the naive fool. It’s time to grow the hell up and take charge of my life. No man is going to take advantage of me ever again.
Dominic spots me a few yards away. He hangs up hastily and half-jogs to catch up to me. “Marina? Where are you going?”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, shoving past him.
“What’s wrong, dolcezza? Tell me what happened.”
“Why don’t you ask your buddy on the plane?”
“My buddy on the… You mean Milo? What the fuck did he say to you?”
I shake my head, so angry at myself I want to scream. “I thought we… You made me feel special, Dominic. Turns out I’m a dime a dozen to you.”
Dominic’s face is cold and hard. “Whatever he said to you, it’s not true. Marina, wait—”
He tries to take my hand. I pull away.
“Have fun on your trip,” I grumble bitterly before walking away.
Chapter 4
Dominic
Five Years Later
“Mr. Costello,please.”
The little old lady sitting on the other side of Lorenzo’s desk—mydesk—is as frail as a quivering leaf on a bare branch. A strong breeze could easily knock her over. She dabs at her pale blue eyes, hands shaking and nose running as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
“There’s nothing I can do, Mrs. Jones,” I say firmly. “Your payments are three weeks past due. As per the contract you signed, your collateral is now forfeit.”
“My collateral is myhome, Mr. Costello. You’d be forcing me out onto the street.”
“It brings me no pleasure to do this—”
“I just need a bit more time to find a job,” she whimpers, her voice cracking. “I have an interview for a grocery clerk position tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure I can land the job.”
I clench my teeth. If Lorenzo were here, he’d already have a yellow eviction notice plastered to the woman’s front door. She’s somewhere near my own mother’s age, though frailer and smaller with even poorer eyesight. If it weremymother being forced out of retirement to find a job to help make ends meet, I’d be livid.
But this job requires my indifference. In my line of work, it’s the only way to survive. There are only two things you can be when you’re a part of the Mob: an earner or a killer. Since I’ve never had the stomach for killing, I have to put my foot down and see that Mrs. Jones pays up.
“Please,” she says, a whisper. “My husband hasn’t even been gone two weeks and the cost of his funeral ate into what little savings we had. Not to mention all the medical bills I’m trying to pay off since he suffered his stroke.”
Desperation has a smell. It’s sweaty and musty, something Lorenzo has spent years learning how to sniff out and use to his advantage. There’s a reason he’s one of the Family’s best performing capos. He has a knack for finding people’s pressure points and a black enough heart to stab them clean through.
I personally don’t have a taste for it, yet here I am, manning my boss’ desk while he’s off having a wild week in Atlantic City. There’s order to the madness, an unshakeable hierarchy that must be followed and respected at all times. If Lorenzo tells me to jump, I ask how high. That’s what it means to be a capo’s right-hand man.
But just because Lorenzo is a heartless son of a bitch doesn’t mean I have to be.
“I’ll give you two more weeks,” I tell her. “But it’s the only extension I can give you. Anymore and the boss will have my head.”