“So why are you part of that life?” Sergei was quiet for a moment. “I mean, you’re really going to marry a woman, for the sake of what people think?”
“I was born into this.” Dom stared up at the ceiling and exhaled. “I could live a million years and never understand why anyone would want to be involved in this shit. I didn’t have a choice, and I’ve spent my life being reminded of that at every turn, especially after my father fucked over the family. They’ve all been ready and willing, all this time, to take me out the second I give them a hint that my heart’s not in it, and that’s all the sign they need that I’m a turncoat like him.”
Sergei studied him for a moment. “Why don’t you leave? Why stay if—”
“If I could, I would.” Dom looked at him. “It’s complicated, but… this is the reality I live in. If I leave, my uncle will hunt me down, and he will kill me. In horrific ways you can’t begin to imagine.”
Sergei shuddered.
Dom swept his tongue across his lips. “The only thing I can do is keep my head down, and hope that when someone finally finds a reason to kill me, they do it quick.”
Sergei’s Adam’s apple jumped. “That’s…”
“I don’t like it, but it is what it is. And part of that means getting married. Being straight.” He sighed, touching Sergei’s face. “All I can do for the moment is stall as long as I can, and spend as much time…”
They held each other’s gazes.
Without a word, Sergei slid closer, tipped Dom’s chin up, and kissed him. As Dom wrapped his arms around him, something settled in his chest. No, this couldn’t last forever. No, this wasn’t something that fit into his pre-orchestrated world.
But for tonight—for as many nights as he could—this was where he needed to be.
This was the one person on earth he needed to be with.
This was who he needed to be.
*
Dom stumbled in through his front door around eight in the morning. He shuffled upstairs to his bedroom, stripped out of his clothes, and dropped into bed to grab a few hours of sleep before he went into the office. His receptionist already knew he’d be in later.
His head had barely hit the pillow, though, when his cell phone went off.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, and felt around for his phone. Except it wasn’t on the nightstand. Fuck, he hadn’t even bothered taking it out his pocket.
He jumped out of bed and pulled his trousers from the hamper, and managed to get the phone into his hand and answer the call before it went to voicemail.
“Yeah?”
“Your uncle wants to see you,” Biaggio said sharply. No specific time, which meant now, Domenico.
Rubbing his unshaven face, Dom mouthed a curse into the stillness. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” After he’d hung up, he eyed his pillow. No, he didn’t dare. Even sleeping for fifteen or twenty minutes was liable to backfire on him. He’d oversleep, or it would make him even more tired, or this would be one of those times when Corrado was tapping his watch and demanding to know why Dom hadn’t left his house the instant he’d gotten off the phone.
He’d go see Corrado, then come home and get some fucking sleep.
But first… coffee.
*
“You look like you had a long night.”
From anyone else, it would’ve been accompanied by some brotherly ribbing, maybe some crude comments about how Brigida was in the sack, but Biaggio’s tone was filled with gentle concern. Not surprisingly—the consigliere had been the only man besides Dr. Rojas who Dom could trust as a confidante over the years. Though his loyalty to Corrado was fierce, he seemed to have some sympathy for Dom. Enough that he frequently filled in as the father figure Dom didn’t have.
“I’m fine.” Dom sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. “Just didn’t sleep very well.”
“I can see that.”
They continued into the house, and Biaggio was silent, walking beside him up Corrado’s grand staircase. Dom knew that silence well—the conversation wasn’t over, but Biaggio was waiting for him to go on.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Dom said, barely whispering. “Brigida’s great, but it’s tough to get to know someone when there’s already pressure to get married when you’re on your first date.”
Biaggio nodded. “I doubt anyone would disagree that you’re in a difficult position.”
“I’m just not sure what I can do about it.”
“Have you made arrangements to see her again?”
“We’ve been out already.”
“Good. Then you’re making a good faith effort to see this through, and that should be enough to satisfy her father and your uncle. At least for now.”
“One can hope, right?”
Biaggio grunted an affirmative.
As they followed the long hallway toward Corrado’s office, Felice came toward them.
“Oh, hey, Dom. I was just about to call you.” Felice halted, so Dom and Biaggio did too. “I’m taking the boat out on Saturday morning. One of my new cargo liaisons will be meeting us. Why don’t you come out with me and meet him?”