Chapter 2 Dominic pov
Dominic
The city looked small from the backseat of my Rolls-Royce.
Los Angeles stretched for miles beyond the tinted windows, alive with people rushing through another Saturday, completely unaware that half of what happened in this city was decided behind closed doors.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police captains.
Business owners.
They all believed they were in control.
Most weren’t.
I loosened the cuff of my black Armani suit before adjusting the silver watch around my wrist. The tattoos covering my hands disappeared beneath the tailored sleeves, but they were impossible to hide completely. They crawled up my neck and disappeared beneath the crisp white shirt.
Across from me sat Mark, scrolling through his phone.
Lucian was next to him, looking as relaxed as ever.
I sometimes wondered how the hell he managed to smile so much in our line of work.
Alfred occupied the passenger seat, his sharp eyes watching every passing vehicle.
Silence filled the car.
Comfortable.
Professional.
Exactly how I liked it.
Mark finally looked up.
“You know this is a wedding, right?”
“I was informed.”
“You could at least pretend to be excited.”
“I am.”
Lucian burst out laughing.
“No, you’re not.”
I stared at him.
“What gave it away?”
“The fact that you look like you’re attending a funeral.”
“I’d rather be.”
Mark nodded in agreement.
“I hate weddings.”
“They’re loud.”
“They’re emotional,” Lucian added.
“They’re unnecessary.”
Lucian sighed dramatically.
“You two are going to die alone.”
“I plan to.”
Mark shrugged.
“So do I.”
Alfred chuckled quietly from the front seat.
“One day, you’ll both eat those words.”
I looked out the window again.
“I doubt it.”
Love.
Marriage.
Happiness.
Those things belonged to ordinary people.
Men like me didn’t get fairy tales.
We got enemies.
Bullets.
Blood.
My grandfather made sure I understood that before I turned ten.
“Feelings are chains, Dominic.”
“The moment you love someone, they become your weakness.”
“Weak men die.”
I never forgot those lessons.
They were the reason I was still alive.
The reason I now controlled the largest criminal organization on the West Coast.
Fear built empires.
Love destroyed them.
The convoy slowed as we approached the Romano estate.
Beautiful property.
Old money.
Tall iron gates.
Enough security to keep journalists away.
Not enough to stop professionals.
The gates opened before our vehicles even stopped.
Andy Romano was waiting outside with several men.
Respectful.
Prepared.
Smart.
He knew exactly who was arriving.
As soon as I stepped from the car, the conversations around the entrance faded.
People noticed.
They always did.
Some lowered their eyes.
Others pretended not to stare.
A few politicians suddenly found the flowers decorating the entrance incredibly interesting.
Fear.
Predictable.
Andy walked toward me with a polite smile.
“Dominic.”
I shook his hand.
“Andy.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“I was already in town.”
A lie.
I rarely attended events unless business required it.
Today’s business was worth attending.
Mark and Lucian greeted Andy while Alfred quietly positioned our security team around the entrance.
Always watching.
Always calculating.
One mistake could end a life.
“Everything is prepared,” Andy said.
“The contract?”
“In my office after the ceremony.”
I nodded once.
“Good.”
He hesitated.
“I appreciate your cooperation.”
“Our organizations benefit.”
He smiled.
“I agree.”
Someone called his name from inside.
“I have to go.”
“We’ll speak later.”
He disappeared into the estate, leaving us alone near the entrance.
Lucian adjusted his tie.
“I’ll never get used to this.”
“What?”
“People looking at us like we’re death itself.”
“They should.”
He laughed.
“I forgot who I was talking to.”
Mark leaned closer.
“I counted six undercover officers.”
“I counted nine.”
He smirked.
“Show-off.”
“I also counted three rooftop snipers.”
Mark blinked.
“…Seriously?”
“They’re amateurs.”
Alfred glanced toward the roof before nodding once.
“He’s right.”
Mark rubbed a hand over his face.
“Sometimes I forget how terrifying you are.”
“I don’t.”
We entered the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated hundreds of guests.
Champagne flowed freely.
An orchestra played softly in the background.
Everything screamed luxury.
It meant nothing to me.
People approached every few minutes.
Business owners.
Politicians.
Old allies.
They smiled.
Shook my hand.
Laughed at jokes that weren’t funny.
Every conversation had the same purpose.
Power.
They wanted something.
Everyone always wanted something.
I tolerated it.
Nothing more.
Lucian disappeared toward the bar.
Mark stayed beside me.
Alfred remained several steps behind, scanning every movement.
“Relax,” Mark muttered.
“I am relaxed.”
“No, you’re calculating seventeen different escape routes.”
“Twenty-three.”
He sighed.
“I liked my version better.”
The ceremony began shortly after.
I stood with the other guests as the bride walked down the aisle.
Vanessa Romano.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Forgettable.
Andy looked genuinely happy.
I almost envied him.
Almost.
Not because he was getting married.
Because he believed in something I never could.
The ceremony ended with applause.
People smiled.
They cried.
I watched without emotion.
Then the reception began.
Exactly what I’d been waiting for.
Business.
Andy led me toward his private office, away from the music and the crowds.
The contract already sat on the desk.
I read every page.
Twice.
Mark reviewed the financial details.
Lucian checked the shipping routes.
Everything looked exactly as promised.
Andy relaxed.
“I take it we’re in agreement?”
I closed the folder.
“We’re close.”
His smile faded slightly.
“What else do you need?”
I remained silent for a long moment.
Long enough for everyone in the room to become uncomfortable.
“There is one condition.”
Andy frowned.
“I thought we settled everything.”
“We settled the business.”
He waited.
“This is personal.”
The room became quiet.
Mark looked at me.
Lucian slowly raised an eyebrow.
Even Alfred shifted his attention fully toward me.
Andy folded his arms.
“I’m listening.”
I stood and walked toward the large window overlooking the gardens.
Guests laughed below.
Children ran across the grass.
Families celebrated.
Something caught my attention.
Three women.
One with dark hair.
Another blonde.
And between them…
Red hair.
Bright enough to stand out even from this distance.
She threw her head back laughing before playfully shoving one of her friends.
Completely unaware of the world around her.
Completely unaware that dozens of armed men surrounded the estate.
She looked…
Alive.
Unlike everyone else pretending to be someone they weren’t.
“Who is she?”
Andy stepped beside me.
His expression immediately changed.
“My sister.”
Interesting.
I watched as she stole something from one of the dessert trays before running away from an annoyed waiter.
Her friends laughed as she disappeared into the crowd.
She looked absolutely nothing like the polished women filling the ballroom.
She looked…
Real.
“What about her?”
I turned back toward Andy.
“My condition.”
His forehead creased.
“What condition?”
I held his gaze without blinking.
“I’ll sign the alliance.”
Silence.
“If…”
He waited.
“…your sister becomes my wife.”
The color drained from Andy’s face.
Behind me, I heard Mark whisper one word.
“…Fuck.”
Lucian stopped smiling.
For the first time in years, even Alfred looked genuinely surprised.
And somehow…
I already knew the answer wouldn’t come easily.
