These nights with Sergei were unreal. It went beyond the sex, too. In here, within the walls of whatever cheap motel they’d chosen for the evening, nothing else existed. In here, Dom found a temporary escape from his bloody, violent world.
Sergei had undoubtedly saved his life that first night, but Dom was starting to think he did that every time they were together. He’d become a drug. Not a recreational one, but one that kept everything functioning the way it was supposed to.
I’m going to lose my mind without you.
He pulled Sergei closer, deepened the kiss, and held on. Sergei didn’t need to know that their arrangement’s days were seriously numbered. They’d both known there’d be an end to this at some point, but Dom had held out hope they’d have more time.
It wasn’t to be, though. The pressure was mounting, the end approaching too fast. Whether he liked it or not, this would be over very soon.
So Dom fully intended to do the one thing he could do—enjoy every second he had left with Sergei.
“We still have too many clothes on,” he murmured against Sergei’s lips.
Sergei pushed himself up and grinned. “We should do something about that.”
*
Biaggio spent most of his days at Corrado’s mansion, and many nights there, too, so he’d never really gone all-out with his own place. It was a modest Spanish-style villa overlooking the water, not far from where Corrado lived. No doubt so he could be at the boss’s front door within moments if needed.
Dom arrived a few minutes before eleven, and Biaggio’s maid showed him to the shaded terrace where he was waiting.
“Your uncle needs me this afternoon,” Biaggio said as Dom took a seat and the maid poured them some wine. “I’m afraid we’ll have to make this a somewhat short meal.”
“That’s fine. I still have some bookkeeping to catch up on.”
Biaggio nodded, holding Dom’s gaze. They both knew what “catching up on bookkeeping” really meant—cycling money through offshore accounts and various other channels until it came back, clean as a whistle. Luciano was set to receive almost three million dollars this afternoon for a massive shipment of cocaine and various contraband that had “disappeared” from Naples while a Chinese cargo ship was in port. By the time Dom had finished routing and rerouting that money, no one would ever be able to trace it back to its origin.
The maid offered them each their glasses, and after they’d thanked her, she went inside, presumably to finish preparing lunch. They were alone out here. Biaggio’s security presence was minimal, just a handful of men strategically stationed around the property. His bodyguard, Sal, stood back beside the sliding glass door, scanning the yard while Dom and Biaggio relaxed.
“Well, I suppose we should use what time we have, then.” Biaggio watched him over the top of his glass. “You said you needed some advice.”
“Yeah.” Dom absently ran his thumb along the edge of the wrought iron table. “It’s about Brigida Passantino.”
Biaggio nodded slowly. “I understand you’re going to give your uncle a final decision in a week.”
“He told you, then.”
“Yes.” The consigliere folded his hands in his lap. “Your uncle is concerned about you, Domenico.”
Dom gritted his teeth. “My uncle is concerned about my image.”
“But such is the reality of the circles we move in.” Biaggio shrugged tightly. “Alliances are necessary for survival. Sometimes the best way to seal those alliances are with marriages.”
“Arranged marriages are a little out of date, don’t you think?”
Biaggio laughed and reached up to pat Dom’s forearm. “Not in our world, Domenico. Not in our world. And besides, you could have married any woman you chose. If Luciano or Felice were still unmarried, their father would be pushing them into this arrangement. It just happens that you’ve been single long enough to raise eyebrows, and there’s an opportunity to use that to the organization’s advantage.”
Dom pushed out a breath, gazing out at the ocean far beneath the cliffs. “You’re probably right. And, I mean, if this is what the family needs, then I’ll do it.”
“Good. With as much bloodshed as this town has seen recently, a wedding will be good for morale.” Biaggio folded his hands in his lap. “And knowing the Maisanos and Passantinos are allied this way might make the Cusimanos think twice about screwing with either family.”
“True.” Dom tapped his fingers on the table. “So you think it is a good move. Marrying Passantino’s daughter.”
“It makes business sense.”
“We barely know each other. What kind of marriage would that be?”
“Well…” Biaggio sat back, idly swirling his glass. “You’ve gotten along well enough so far, haven’t you?”
Dom nodded.
“Give it time, then.” Biaggio shrugged. “Don’t expect it to happen overnight, but the two of you can continue to get to know each other after you’re married.”
The ‘overnight’ part might be an issue…
“I do think this is a wise move, though,” Biaggio said. “The two families have been *-footing around an alliance for years. The two of you marrying will, in essence, marry the families to each other, so we’ll—”
Crack!