He swallowed. I watched his throat work.
“It was always about Sergio. About Sergio’s kid. Well, he had another grandchild. It was time he acknowledged that.” He shook his head. “But he had another card up his sleeve.”
Dominic grimaced, his eyes distant as if he saw it all again.
“Always did have the last word, Franco Benedetti.”
“What—”
“Turned out I wasn’t his.” He met my gaze. “I was the bastard son of a foot soldier and Franco Benedetti’s wife.”
Oh. My. God.
My mouth fell open. Nobody knew this. They only knew Dominic had tried to kill his brother.
He shifted his gaze to mine. “You see, I wasn’t actually trying to kill Salvatore.”
Dominic shook his head again, eyes glistening, at least for a moment.
“He just got between me and Franco and almost died for it.”
Dominic dropped the washcloth he’d picked up into the bathtub. Water splashed, and he stood. He turned his back to me and ran a hand through his hair.
“Dominic,” I started, climbing out, dripping wet, soap suds and shampoo clinging to me. I went to him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and forced him to turn around.
“I almost killed the only person in that family who is worthy of living, Gia.”
He had a crazed smile, one I knew kept a surge of emotion at bay.
“You didn’t, though. You didn’t.”
He pushed me away when I put my hands on his shoulders, but I refused to budge. I took his face in my hands and made him look at me, made him see me. See the present moment. See what was right there in front of his eyes.
“He was wrong to tell you like that.”
“Leave it alone, Gia. Leave me alone.”
“No.” I kissed him even as he tried to walk past me. I just kissed him, trying to hold on to him.
His hands came to my waist, still trying to push me away, trying to make his way out of the bathroom.
“Gia—”
“You need to keep your shit together if you’re going to get the bastards,” I said, kissing him harder when he stopped, when he heard the words he’d used on me just a little bit ago. “Kiss me, Dominic.”
He looked down at me, then turned his face to the side, his hands still on my waist, but no longer pushing me away.
“I said fucking kiss me.”
This time, he didn’t turn away and he didn’t pull back. He kissed me, walking me backward out of the bathroom, his arms wrapping around me as his kiss became hungry, ravenous even. When the backs of my knees hit the bed, he pushed me onto it and stood back to drop his towel, his erection hard against his belly, eyes hungry as I lay back and spread my legs for him.
“Dominic,” I managed as he knelt between them, then lowered himself onto me.
“I came inside you yesterday,” he said between kisses.
“I’m protected.” I kissed him back, our hunger matched. “And clean.”
“Me too.”
He thrust inside me then, and for the first time since we’d been together, we didn’t fuck. We made love. Dominic moved slowly deep inside me and held me so close, there was never an inch between us. Our eyes were open the entire time, locked on each other. And when it was over and we lay spent, we still clung to each other, unable to let go, knowing, in a way, that we would be each other’s savior. Knowing that as our enemies collected outside of this sanctuary, we had each other, only each other.
I wondered if we would die together, knowing I couldn’t do what I’d said yesterday, not now, not anymore after knowing what I knew. I understood his self-loathing. His hate. His loss. I felt it from him. I felt it for him. It didn’t make him good. It didn’t clean the slate; didn’t wash his hands of the blood he’d spilled. Nothing could ever do that. But it made him different. It made him human.
Ever since that night, he’d been trying to kill himself. And now, he had an end in sight. And after that end, he wanted me to kill him.
Well, I knew I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.17DominicI sat in my study, listening to Leo’s cell phone ring. It was the day before the auction, and I needed to check in. It was procedure. A day or two before the auction, I’d get the address for delivery. The auctions were held in different locations every time. Some at private homes, some in the woods. You just never knew.
“Leo”
He always answered the same way.
“She’s ready to go,” I said.
“Good. I’m sending you the address now.”
“How many do you have?” I always asked this question, so it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary.
“Eleven.”
“What about buyers?”
“Two dozen.”
“Any names I should know?”
Leo paused. This wasn’t on my usual list of questions.
“No,” he said after a moment. “No names you need to know. The restrictions didn’t cause a problem, I hope?”