Page 13 of Scorned Beauty (Scorned Fate #5)

Chapter

Nine

Dom

“He’s six-six and two hundred forty pounds, but he’s dumb as a rock,” Matteo told Sandro.

We were having drinks before dinner and the men were talking about the Game of Bosses, a tournament sponsored by the Moscow mob that was held every five years.

The next one was coming up in May. Many crime bosses waited until the games to settle their differences.

If you asked me, it was simply a lot of testosterone posturing. Being boss was more than brawn.

Sandro was being challenged inside the Rossi crime family. Apparently there were lurkers still wanting to usurp the position, especially since Sandro had turned the family around and sent their profits soaring.

“I’m not worried.” Sandro glanced at me. “Didn’t Luca win one a long time ago?”

“Yes.” I took a sip of scotch. “He beat Vasily Orlov nine years ago, and the Russian wants a rematch.”

This time it was Nico who snorted. “Is he considering it?”

In our huddle were Matteo and Nico, Bianca’s brothers and my cousins who were as heavily involved as I was in the Archer Syndicate, an organization that kept the underworld in check.

And the only reason we were ahead of Luca’s hackers in finding out what had happened to Natalya was because an online vigilante we worked with had access to clandestine databases and surveillance.

“Hell no, especially not now.” Besides keeping tabs on Grigori Petrov, I had my hands full unraveling the mystery of Natalya’s disappearance.

There were more public cam sightings of her, but we were selective of what information we fed Luca’s team looking for Natalya.

I didn’t want to get my uncle’s hopes up and then disappoint him when our leads led to nowhere.

“You need to spar with Ivy,” Nico told Sandro, while shooting his glance over to where the women were chatting.

“Are they still talking about the serial killer on the loose?” I asked.

The Mistress Strangler had seen a resurgence in headlines in the past three months after the unsolved murder cases four years ago. One of my contacts in the feds said that the killer might have gone to jail on a different charge and was recently released. Or it could be a copycat.

“Well, the wives are happy,” Sandro chuckled. “No one wants to be their husband's mistress right now.”

“Yeah, Sonny said the same thing,” I replied. “Fewer complaints from the wives. You wonder if the killer was a woman.”

“So your underboss is handling the wives?” Sandro asked.

I shrugged, but I was on guard with his question because historically, being single was a disadvantage to becoming boss and I couldn’t use Luca as an example anymore.

Ma was constantly fielding arranged marriage proposals from other organizations, but she had her heart set on a union with the Zahkarov bratva.

The women erupted in oohs and aahs.

“That doesn’t sound like serial killer talk,” Sandro mused. As usual, the husbands were attuned to their wives’ interests and collectively moved toward them.

I followed more leisurely, internally rolling my eyes about how pussy-whipped they were, when Sandro said, “I didn’t know Sloane was dating.”

“He’s hot,” Ivy gushed.

“Hey,” Nico growled.

I found myself shoving Sandro aside to look over Bianca’s shoulder and a vein popped in my temple.

I nearly blurted out, “that’s her neighbor, ” but caught myself. I turned around and walked away, whipped out my phone and texted her.

Me

We had a deal.

And when there was no response.

I’m not done with you.

“Dinner is ready!” Ma announced from the mouth of the living room. Her eyes fell on me. “What are you doing there, Dom, ignoring your cousins?”

“I had to settle a situation.”

“What situation?” Sandro asked. His eyes were studying me intently. If I left now, there would be more questions.

“Nothing that concerns you,” I shot back in a tone so unlike one I’d ever used. Terse. Irritated. I was always the annoyingly cool one.

His brow lifted.

“Hey, don’t be mean to my husband.” Bianca planted herself between us. Normally I would find it hilarious for my dear cousin to think that anyone could be mean to Sandro without consequences. He used to be a deadly contract killer before he became the boss.

I put on my signature charming smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Come on, cuz. Let’s see what our moms cooked.”

Sandro, Bianca, and I followed the others to the dining room. “I invited Sloane to this dinner.” Bianca was talking to Sandro. “But she turned me down. She likes Mom’s cooking and usually doesn’t say no.”

Probably because she was avoiding me. Admittedly, I’d been an ass to her. I checked my phone. No response.

So I typed:

Me

Don’t ignore me.

“She probably didn’t want to make the trip, baby,” Sandro replied. “Traffic has been a nightmare.”

“True. The subway is no picnic either,” Ivy said. “Several lines are under maintenance.”

“It’s just she’s so alone during the holidays,” Bianca mourned.

The guilt burrowed itself deeper into my chest.

“She’s been busy with school, right?” Sandro said. “Maybe she just wants to chill.”

“Well, she wanted to go out tonight. I think her finals are next week, so she’s trying to blow off steam before then.”

Fuck, it better not be with Phil Harding. Yes, I had a file on him already.

I sat away from my mother, Sandro, and my cousins. I ended up sitting beside Cesar, who was at the head of the table. My dad sat beside him, so we were face to face. Ivy was on my left, but she was busy chatting with Nico and Sera.

My father, Paulo De Lucci, or Paulie, was Ava’s best friend before she even started a relationship with Uncle Cesar. Pop and Ma were already married, and I was four years old by then. That was why I was closer to Luca’s age than I was to my cousins, despite Pop being younger than Cesar.

Both Uncle Cesar and Pop stayed out of the made man business, so they rarely bugged me about my shit.

“Dom,” Cesar greeted. “All’s well?”

“All’s good,” I lied. I was itching to get out of this dinner and go to New Jersey to confront Sloane.

For weeks, I was able to pack her into a corner of my mind, which I took out to play with when I wanted to jack off in the shower or when I woke up dreaming about her.

Fuck, those dreams were getting worse and worse and I was getting flashes in the middle of the day of our writhing bodies.

I was hoping to squeeze in a weekend with her before Christmas, but the longer I didn’t text her, the harder it became to do so.

I knew I was behaving like a dick and at the same time I was trying to excise her from my mind after Ma reminded me of my family obligations.

Not that I was considering the arranged marriage, but while working on Grigori to get the properties back, it was hard to be around Sloane.

We made the rules to this affair. We were just hookups. But I was possessive. Probably a trait I inherited from the De Luccis. No one was going to fuck her until I was ready to let her go. But what did I do at the first sign of her moving on? I was in danger of losing my shit.

Hypocrite much?

Pop gave me that concerned-dad look when he handed me the appetizer plate they were passing around. I shrugged and gave him a tight smile. Good thing Cesar pulled him into a conversation about the latest real estate deal Matteo and Nico were negotiating.

The seconds passed excruciatingly slow. Sloane wasn’t answering my texts, but I was tracking her phone. She moved to another pub on the waterfront. At least she hadn’t gone home with that fucker yet. I couldn’t help myself from typing another text.

Me

I’m coming over. You won’t be able to sit for a week.

I was looking forward to spanking her. I wasn’t sure if she was into that shit, but I was feeling very aggressive right now in showing her she was mine…

Fuck…I caught myself.

She was mine…until I declared we were over. I controlled whatever the fuck we were.

“You’re not eating, Dom?” Ma asked.

Fucking Ma. Then I apologized to the Lord for cursing my mother. Everyone’s attention swung to my sparse plate.

My eyes met Pop’s again. I could feel Cesar’s stare burn the side of my face.

“Uh, I had a late snack at the club.” Then I leaned over to look at Ava at the other end of the table. “But you know I love your cooking.”

“I can pack you a box in case you get hungry later,” Ava said.

“Hey, I thought I was getting all the leftovers,” Nico grumbled.

Ivy laughed. “They might think I don’t feed you enough. Although, come to think of it, you do most of the cooking.”

“No need, Aunt Ava.” I tapped my wineglass. “Just need to drink some more.” Maybe an entire bottle.

“So it seems Luca and Lucy are spending Christmas with us,” Pop piped in, distracting everyone from my uncharacteristic silence.

Excited chatter exploded about their impending visit.

We called Lucy Luca Junior. I didn’t know how that started, whether it was because their names appeared similar on paper or it was my sister’s rebellious attitude, which Luca seemed to approve of.

After getting a reprieve with the help of Pop’s diversion, I forced myself to get a grip and eat a decent serving of the roast lamb and cheesy Brussels sprouts I’d normally wolf down and have second servings of.

Dinner lasted an agonizing two hours before I could leave with a valid excuse that I was needed at Cardo—a De Lucci-owned dance club.

Our special rooms were fully booked months in advance, more so for the holidays.

I jumped into my Ferrari, debating now whether I should switch vehicles, knowing I’d be parking on the street, but the desire to get to New Jersey as soon as possible won out.