“Yeah? That why your father told me he’d call me when he needed me?” Dom arched an eyebrow. “Or am I answering to you now?”
Felice scowled. “Listen, I’m just rattled. Yesterday… that was too close. Someone was on that boat.”
“So you don’t think it was one of the Koreans.”
Felice shook his head. “I questioned the hell out of the two who survived, told them they’d be joining their buddy if they didn’t talk. They didn’t know anything.”
“Which means we have to consider that it might’ve been an inside job.”
“I know.” His cousin exhaled. “But those guys, they’ve been my crew for years. I trust them.”
“Somebody cut Privitera’s throat. It wasn’t you or me, so…” Proceeding cautiously, Dom added, “We can’t rule them out. Not yet.”
“Think about it, though. They were all on the deck with us or supervising the Koreans. And the Koreans confirmed the others were there with them the whole time.”
“So what do you think happened?” Dom lowered his arms. “I mean, Privitera didn’t cut his own throat.”
“Someone else had to be on the boat.”
“We scoured it from top to bottom.” Dom shook his head. “I don’t get it. And the security cameras show nothing?”
“That’s the weirder thing—all the surveillance equipment was compromised. There’s nothing. It’s so fucking scrambled, we can’t even tell when it was compromised.”
Dom shuddered. Whoever was behind this was good. They were thorough. They thought of everything. Always one step ahead. “We need to bring in more security, then. Extra bodyguards. Personnel on watercraft, at houses and offices.”
Felice nodded. “That’s going to get expensive.”
Dom gritted his teeth. He could practically hear Felice calculating how many immigrants Dom would have to squeeze to make up the spike in security costs.
“Anyway.” Felice shook himself and clapped Dom’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t keep you. My dad wants to see you, and he won’t want to be kept waiting.” He flashed an odd smile. “Once we get some more security, you should come out on the boat again soon. Hopefully it’ll be a little more boring this time.”
Dom’s stomach lurched. If he never went back out on that floating crime scene again, it would be too soon, but… image. “Sure.” He returned the smile. “Let me know when you’re going out again. I’ll bring champagne.”
“Perfect. See you later, Dom.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Dom watched his cousin walk away, then continued toward Corrado’s office.
Well. This day was getting better by the minute.
Chapter 21
The conversation with Dom wouldn’t leave his mind.
They’d left the hotel room before dawn, after Dom’s doctor friend had come back one last time and decided Sergei had recovered enough to be on his own. Now Sergei was drinking coffee in the silence of his apartment, his head still throbbing and his bones still aching. At least he had his balance back. He could finally walk without face-planting. He’d even driven home without incident.
And now, he couldn’t stop thinking about last night.
It was the first time they’d met up without having sex. Of course Sergei had been in no condition to do anything, but Dom had seemed more concerned than put off. Where other casual lovers would’ve maybe called a doctor before disappearing to find someone a bit less pathetic, Dom had stayed there, hovering beside him and watching his every move.
As Sergei had recovered, they’d talked. No sex. No touching. Just… talking.
And that felt weird. It felt wrong. Fooling around with Dom was one thing. Talking to him, listening to him explain how trapped he was in his own life, was a mistake, particularly when Dom was staying attentively by his bedside, making sure Sergei didn’t get worse. Somehow, that seemed even more dangerous than when they’d lie in bed naked, talking until one of them finally decided it was time to get dressed and leave. Those conversations had become increasingly intimate. But this… somehow this felt riskier.
After all, hadn’t this intimacy nearly earned him a bullet between the eyes? He’d been on Felice Maisano’s boat to kill Dom. They hadn’t told him exactly who he was meant to kill—probably for some plausible deniability for whoever called in the hit—and when he’d realized his target, he’d made a dangerously different call.
And why? Because Dom could fuck him without making him feel like a sex toy who barely qualified as human?
No. Because they were too close. The sex had given them a reason to be together, and they’d talked, and in the end, they’d softened Sergei out of completing yesterday’s hit.
He scrubbed his hands over his unshaven face. This was getting out of control.
Well, they’d only be sleeping together for so long, especially if Dom would be getting married soon. There was a finite end to this. And once Sergei had moved a few more pieces on the Mafia chessboard, Dom would be too preoccupied with a local war to bother hitting up Sergei for sex.