Dominic (Made Men 8)

The heart that sat in his chest pounded at the thought of the youngest Luciano at the head of the family.

“What?” Lucifer gave him a twisted smile. “You’re not going to tell me how Cassius could be better than you one day too? Or do you only stand up for your brothers who never have the chance of taking the throne?”

He was one second away from opening his mouth until he thought better of it and walked past his father, toward the Catholic church. Lucifer would have beat the shit out of him right here in front of their enemies if he had. Sure, he could admit Matthias might not have a chance of sitting on the throne, thanks to their psychopathic father, but if Lucifer wasn’t scared of what Angel could become, then Dominic himself wouldn’t stand a chance.

Angel being born a twin was the exact thing that could have made him a greater man than Dominic, but it was ironically the very thing that held him back. Angel wasn’t gifted the opportunity like Dom to pretend that he’d never backstab his own father. It was clear in Angel’s gray eyes, ever since he was a child, that he’d kill Lucifer if he ever hurt Matthias beyond irrevocable damage—and Lucifer knew it. Hell, the only reason Lucifer still walked the earth was because of the thing he hated the most—Katarina. Like Dominic, Angel hadn’t blown his brains out already because of him. Protecting Matthias was the only reason Angel would never make it to the throne.

Dominic loved Cassius, but he was also afraid of his youngest sibling. And it wasn’t out of fear that Cassius could be greater than him, it was out of fear that he could be worse than Lucifer. Cassius might have looked like Dominic in every way, but on the inside, he was born as fucked-up as his father. Dominic did everything he could to keep Cassius busy and away from Lucifer, and the only thing that might save his soulless life was Katarina.

She could see the darkness that lurked beneath the surface and, even at ten years old, she was trying her best to keep that darkness away by showing Cassius the difference between good and evil. It might only work because, if Cassius was capable of love, then he felt it for his sister.

Walking into the Catholic church, he was surprised Lucifer didn’t burst into flames when he entered the sacred ground.

There were two people at the front greeting their guests, and having come in behind a small group, he and his father had to wait their turn.

Dominic knew the older man. Once a year, the two crime families of Kansas City met outside the city on equal ground to ensure the peace they created after the war. That war was where it had all begun, as it almost caused the Luciano name to cease to exist. If they hadn’t come to that agreement, he and his father wouldn’t be here today. Simultaneously, however, it was the reason his father treated his kids like soldiers, ruining any hopes of a normal childhood.

The man they were about to approach was Dante Caruso, his father’s biggest adversary. Dominic might have actually liked the man, if he wasn’t so full of himself. He had an arrogance about him, and Dominic was surprised he didn’t fucking choke on it. It was clear he thought he was God’s gift to the American mob, and it was only a matter of time for his day of reckoning. Dom felt genuinely bad that it had come in the form of burying his wife.

The man had thought he had it all, and the universe had humbled him. Life was funny that way. You’d think his reckoning would have come from a bullet. Instead, it took the thing Dante loved the most.

The Caruso boss had always stood tall, but today, he was a little shorter, and his piercing ice-blue gaze wasn’t as intimidating with the red ring around them from the tears he had most likely shed right before this. Just like the rest of the world, even the mafia needed balance.

However, it was the girl who stood in front of Dante who drew his attention. The second he saw her, his heart had stopped; he never knew beauty like that could exist in a world so ugly.

She had blonde hair that looked like it had been spun from gold, and her tanned skin somehow made it shine brighter. Her face was so symmetrically perfect that, since she was the only one wearing white against a sea of black, Dominic, honest to God thought he was seeing an angel. Thinking he had imagined her, he shook his head to see that she wasn’t the one who had tragically died too young.

His heart might have stopped, but now it beat faster with every man who greeted her. Every one of them either gave her a hug or a touch—from what they could play off as sympathy—but Dom knew they couldn’t care less about her mother laying in a casket at the end of the aisle. Their eyes lit up like fucking Christmas trees to see a young girl in a pretty dress. Dominic was always surrounded by older men, and they didn’t think of angels who had fallen from the sky but the ones from their dirty magazines.