Chapter 13: Dominic

Holy fuck. As the elevator reaches the top floor and I step out, I feel like breathing fire.

I should have gone after Candace.

The only reason I didn’t was because of what she said.

I told her not to wait for me. That was what my note said.

I remembered what I wrote, how I felt when I wrote it, and how I hurt her. I wanted better for her. I still do. But look at me, again, a conflicted mess.

My sketchy plan was to stay away from her, but clearly, I don't want to.

I never stopped wanting her. I just don’t know what to do about it now.

And, fucking hell, I’m supposed to be having my first meeting with the glorious Jacques Belmont in about ten minutes.

I head to the men’s toilets first and check myself, getting rid of any evidence that I was fucking in the elevator. Then with gritted teeth, I proceed to the meeting room.

I already wasn't looking forward to meeting Jacques. Now I really don't want to. He’s dating my girl, and after what just happened, I want to kill his ass.

It also hasn’t escaped me that Massimo has been particularly non-conversational when it comes to him. Granted, we’ve had a lot to deal with, and discussing clients is at the lower end of the priority list.

I’m not really sure what this meeting is about, but it was important to Massimo. He wanted the three of us to meet with Jacques, and he wanted us to meet before the next Syndicate meeting.

Massimo and Tristan are already in the room when I get there. Thankfully, I’m not late. I’m on time, and the prick arrives two minutes after me.

I’m trying really hard not to have any ill-fated feelings toward him, but one look at him has me conjuring up images of him with Candace. I’m sure he slept with her. Why wouldn’t he? She’s beautiful. And I think she likes him. She must. She wouldn't go anywhere with him if she didn't.

But if she did, she wouldn’t have had sex with me just now. She’s not wired that way—to cheat. Or rather, string two guys along even if she is just dating him.

I know her. If she genuinely liked him, then it wouldn’t matter who I was. What happened in the elevator would never even be a thought. And since I’m no cheater either, I wouldn’t have enticed her to cheat if I actually believed she liked him, even if I am the devil.

Fuck, this is such a damn mess, one I have to shove out of my mind right now so I can focus.

Jacques is well dressed, like most French men I’ve met. A closer look in those eyes, though, as he smiles at us reveals the criminal he’s trying to tamp down—a little like all of us in this room with money and power.

“Good morning,” he beams, shaking each of our hands as we stand to greet him.

“Good morning, Jacques,” Massimo replies. “I’m glad we could meet today together like this.”

“As am I mon ami,” Jacques replies.

Smooth talker. I can just bet he uses that accent to charm women out of their panties.

I could laugh at myself. I’m the fucking pot looking at the kettle. Didn’t I do the same thing years ago?

“It was important to me that all my brothers meet you before we do further business," Massimo states. "My youngest brother, Dominic, has returned home and is every much a part of the Syndicate as I am as the leader.”

My interest piques at the mention of the Syndicate, and I cut Massimo a sideways glance.

“I can understand that perfectly.” Jacques looks at me.

“Good, well Dominic, I wanted you to meet Jacques today because he approached me last month about joining the Syndicate. We've been contemplating accepting him. He'd be the first to join us in two years.”

Fuck me. My gaze snaps to Massimo once more. When he said he had something in mind for this guy, I never thought he meant this.

The Syndicate?

I assumed this to be a business meeting. Clearly, I must have lost my touch if I never even guessed this could be his intention.

“That’s interesting,” I state. Instantly I think of Pa and all that happened in the previous Syndicate. The aim of reforming was to, first of all, make sure we all trusted each other, and here I am, trying to tamp down the rage that makes me want to kill this guy.

“I feel I’ll be an asset to you,” Jacques says to me with a confident smile that reaches his eyes. “I bring with me the vineyards of France and the racetracks and casinos of Monte Carlo and LA. All have run in my family for generations. In addition to that, I have my private airline company sporting a fleet of two hundred planes. I practically own the sky.”

“It sounds like you have a lot to offer.” I can’t lie. It’s wealth. But there’s more. There’s always more when it comes to these people. “What else do you do, Jacques Belmont?”

He knows what I’m asking him. It’s a simple question of what kind of criminal he is.

“I import and export various things for government and other clientele.”

Various things. That could be anything.

“Are these things likely to attract feds and other law enforcement friends?” I challenge, and Tristan tenses next to me.

“Not in the last fifty years. I don’t see why it should start now.”

“Jacques has a setup similar to us; that’s what encouraged me to give him a shot.” Massimo rests his hands on the table. “He also has the strength in an alliance I’m looking for. It is important to me that all my brothers agree with my decision, especially Dominic as he is my consigliere.”

I can see his point. I just wish he wouldn’t entrust me with such a task.

“Of course. Please take your time but know that you would have the stronghold that comes with all my alliances in Europe.” He looks at me. “Dominic D’Agostino your reputation precedes you. So, it would be interesting, as you say, to work with you in this capacity. I’m glad we had the pleasure to meet.”

I’m sure if my reputation preceded me as he says, he wouldn’t think it was any sort of positive thing to meet me, so I’m interested to hear more details.

“What did you hear about me?” I ask, and Massimo cuts me another sharp glance.

“You were in the year beneath me at M.I.T.”

I don’t miss a beat, so I don’t miss the slight edge to his voice when he said the words beneath me.

“Is that so? And you heard of little old me?”

“I do my checks on the people I’m thinking of working with too.” There’s that tone again. That suggestive tone that shows he might know more about me than I want, like my recent situation. “I must say I’m quite impressed. I heard you did a whole other degree because you were bored. I’d bet that must have pissed off a lot of people. I’ve never heard anybody say that about M.I.T.”

I don’t know who this guy is trying to fool, but it’s not me with his fake compliments.

“Each to their own,” I simply say, and because I want to drop the subject, I add, “it takes a lot to impress me.”

That doesn’t just change the subject. It shuts him down and makes him think he’ll have to do more than impress Massimo if he wants in on the Syndicate. The partially phased look in his eye suggests he knows exactly what I mean.

“I don’t doubt that, Mr. D’Agostino,” Jacques replies with a forced smile. His endless dark gaze bores a hole into me.

“Okay.” Massimo’s voice breaks our contesting stare. “Well, this was supposed to be brief, just to give us a chance to all meet. It’ll be some time before I can get back to you, Jacques.”

“That’s no problem.”

“Perfect.”

“Good to meet with all of you.” Jacques stands and tips his head for a curt nod. “And welcome home, Dominic.”

“Thank you.”

He leaves, and I know as the door closes that Massimo is going to chew me out, so I look to him and get ready for it. Of course, he’s already looking at me.

“What the hell was that about?” he spits.

“How come we didn’t talk prior to this meeting about him?” I answer.

“Time. We don’t have the luxury of it, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone plus get your first reaction on meeting him.”

When I stare back at him and far too many seconds pass, Tristan shakes his head. “Dominic, please, for fuck sake, don’t tell me you don’t like this guy because of Candace.”

I turn to him. “I’m trying not to make that be a factor.”

“Oh my God,” Massimo sneers. “Dominic, this is important, and it’s more important now in light of recent shit. That letter warned me to form alliances with the strongest people, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Look at the past. I’m not a fan of the way the previous Syndicate was set up, but I have to give them some credit because to destroy them, their enemies came at them from the inside, not the outside. So please, for fuck sakes, give the man a chance. I think he would be perfect. He has what we’re looking for. You heard him; he owns the sky. He would be an asset to us just for that. We don't have an airline company.”

I stifle a groan. Acting like an immature bastard isn’t going to help me, and that’s not what I should be focused on now. There are more important things to worry about.

“Okay, sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you to think about it? All my checks on him came back clear. Gibbs looked into him. That's as good as having the seal of approval from the Lord himself.”

I can't refute that. If Gibbs investigated someone, I'd trust his findings. I'd even go as far as accepting he might be the only guy who could surpass my methods. We have different ways of doing things, though.

“I will think about it,” I promise, and Massimo seems happy with the answer.

I just wish I could shake the feeling I have about this guy, but I’m a man of my word. I’ll think about it.

To do so, I’m going to do things my way.

***

The second I get home, I’m around my computer looking for dirt. I bring up the file we have on Jacques at the company first and look at it.

Name: Jacques Belmont Age: 33

Net worth: 2.5 Billion USD

CEO: Belmont Aircraft and Belmont Vineyards.

Prick…

At least he’s not worth more than me.

I run my usual checks, and everything looks legit, and that’s the problem. He’s clean. As clean as Massimo alluded to. To me, though, it's too clean. I know that sounds like bullshit, and like I’m trying to be a bastard and hate the guy, but if it’s one thing I know, it’s that the best criminals are the ones that look legit. I’m a good example of that.

On the surface, I look like the good kid who excelled in his computer science and accounting degree at the prestigious M.I.T. Underneath that; I’m quite sure my extracurricular hacking activities could land me on the most wanted list for all sorts of cybercrimes.

As for this fool, I don’t believe he’s as clean as he says he is or what the evidence looks like. Something feels off about him, and if I’m honest, I don’t particularly want him joining the Syndicate.

I don’t like his ass, but maybe that’s because he wants my girl. He wants my angel.

I stop what I’m doing, switch off the computer, and look at my reflection on the screen as I contemplate the problem that’s truly up my ass.

I know exactly what it is.

Fucking hell, I know.

It’s the same problem it’s always been. The only differences are that the effects have manifested into something more, lacing through the fibers of my mind, and influenced my life in ways I didn’t expect.

Remnants of the problem are actually upstairs in my attic in the form of memories and more secrets I tried to hide.

Deciding to face the conflict, I head there. I haven't been up here since I got back on purpose. I switch on the lights when I go through the door and stare at the thing I came up here for.

It's a painting I did when I was seventeen, like the others in this room.

Art was one of the talents I suppressed. I used to hide and paint because I didn't want my brothers making fun of me. My parents were the only people I shared this talent with. Art flowed from my mother’s soul the same way it does for me.

Ma used to paint us all the time in the meadows of Stormy Creek. When she found me painting in my secret tavern, she’d warn me that I couldn’t run away from who I was. After she died, I found myself painting whatever fascinated me.

What fascinated me was Candace Ricci.

I walk over to the painting and pull off the white sheet covering it. It's half-finished and was the last painting I ever did. It was done a little over thirteen years ago, so she would have been fifteen. It was months before her parents died.

The reason it isn't finished is her father. He caught me doing it.

William Ricci was no fool, so he knew my seventeen-year-old ass was in love with his daughter, and he wasn't happy about it.

The old man could see straight through me, and my acts that fooled everyone else weren’t lost on him.

I'm not the kind of person to allow people to push me around, but when he pointed out he wanted better for his girl than the darkness of our world and a life with a crime family, I listened.

When he pointed out that being part of that life was what broke my mother and caused her to kill herself, I paid attention, and it wasn't hard for me to promise to stay away from Candace if I wanted the best for her.

At that time, we didn't know it was Riccardo Balesteri who threw my mother off Ridgemont Cliff. We thought she killed herself, and I know Pa blamed himself because life was so hard, and it was that way because of who he was.

There were a lot of similarities between my mother and Candace. I think my mother took a shine to her because of that. Both are gentle creatures, women of light with kindness in their souls. Neither belonged anywhere near Stormy Creek nor with people linked to organized crime.

By talking about my mother, William Ricci hit me where he'd leave a mark, knowing I'd fucking listen.

I think it was easier for me to make the promise because I already thought Candace deserved better than me.

She never knew what her father made me promise, and I never told anybody.

Why?

William asked me to keep the conversation between us. That was one reason, but not enough. What was enough for me was Candace’s love for her father.

I made that promise only a handful of months before her parents died. When they were killed, it was obvious what happened had to do with something her father did. I didn’t want to ruin the love she had for him or the vision of what she loved.

When you grow up in Stormy Creek and make it out the way we did, it’s a miracle to have anything good to hold on to from your childhood.

Her parents loved her, and I didn’t want to taint her memories, not when I couldn’t disagree her father was right.

My brothers grew up thinking I wasn't into her, but it wasn't true. That comment of hers about her not being enough for me in the past and present was far from the truth.

Now it feels like I'm faced with the same situation with the same options. I could have defied her father back then and been with her.

I defied him two years ago when I couldn't resist being with her, and look what happened.

I'm a changed man now, and at the point where it's getting harder to resist her again.

I'm at the point where I don't want to have this promise hanging over my head anymore, and I most certainly don't want to lose Candace to Jacques Belmont.

I think of her with him and shake my head. I can’t let that happen. The image feels like poison and makes me crazy.

Crazy enough to send me straight back to the roof of the building opposite Candace’s apartment again, where I can see her in her bedroom. There I assume my role as the stalker, and I watch her with obsession working its way through my heart, fueled by need. And the kind of selfishness only a devil like me can exhibit.

Candace is on the phone talking to someone, and I wonder if it’s him, Jacques Belmont.

Meeting him today makes me question what the hell she could see in him. Then again, I can guarantee anybody his pompous ass wouldn’t be up here watching her the way I am. I really have fallen to a new low.

She just got back from somewhere, and she’s undoing her buttons to take off her clothes. I look at her feet as she slips off her heels. She sits on her bed laughing and hangs up. The clothes start coming off, and I feel like an asshole again.

Memories of how she tastes float into my mind, and as I look at her naked body, I want to taste her everywhere.

I’ve been dancing around what I truly want, telling myself I shouldn’t have it, shouldn’t have her, shouldn’t have the life I wanted for us.

But I want it.

I want her back.

I want my angel back.

So, I'm going to have to break that promise one more time.

Sorry, William… I still want your daughter.