Page 6 of Prince of Queens

I try to keep my expression neutral, but inside, my heart is pounding. Every new piece of information about Gia only makes her more intriguing. I find myself wanting to know more, to understand what makes her tick.

"She sounds impressive," I say, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile.

Luca gives me a knowing look. "She is. But Dom, be careful. You know how complicated things are."

I force a laugh, waving off his concern. "Relax, I'm just making conversation."

But even as I say it, I know it's a lie. Gia is already more than just conversation to me, and that's a dangerous thing.

We end the meal with plans to talk again soon, and as I walk back to my car, my head is spinning with everything we discussed. The idea of ending the feud... it's more tempting than I want to admit.

Just as I'm about to start the engine, my phone buzzes. It's a text from Sal: "Boss, we've got a situation with the Colombians. Need to meet ASAP."

I sigh, switching gears from dinner companion back to crime boss. "On my way," I text back.

The drive back to Queens is quick at this time of night. I pull into the private garage of my building, nodding at the security guard as I make my way to the elevator. As I ride up to mypenthouse, I can feel the weight of responsibility settling back onto my shoulders.

Sal and the guys are waiting when I step out of the elevator. Their faces are grim, and I know whatever's happened with the Colombians, it's not good.

"Talk to me," I say, loosening my tie as I head for the bar. I pour myself a whiskey, then turn to face my men.

Sal steps forward. "The Colombians are pushing into our territory again. They hit one of our shipments tonight."

I feel a surge of anger. We've had an understanding with the Colombians for years. If they're breaking it now, there'll be hell to pay.

"How bad?" I ask, taking a sip of my drink.

"We lost the whole shipment," Marcello pipes up. "And two of our guys are in the hospital."

"Fuck," I mutter. This is bad. If word gets out that we couldn't protect our own, it'll be open season on Esposito territory.

We spend the next hour hashing out strategies. Retaliation is a given, but we need to be smart about it. The last thing we need is an all-out war with the Colombians.

On a whim, I decide to reach out to Vince Russo, the former head of the Manhattan family who's now gone legit. If anyone might have insight into our Colombian troubles, it's him.

To my surprise, Vince replies almost immediately: "Sorry, Dom. I'm out of the game now, don't have many good sources anymore. I can call you later if you want, but I'm at Nonna's for family dinner right now."

The mention of Nonna’s immediately brings Gia to mind. I can't help but imagine what it would be like to have her beside me. The thought of her here, in my home... it's intoxicating.

I close my eyes and I can almost feel her underneath me, her dark hair spread across my pillow, those fiery eyes locked on mine as we move together. The curve of her hips, the softness of her skin, the taste of her lips…

"Boss? You okay?"

Sal's voice snaps me back to reality. I clear my throat, hoping my momentary distraction wasn't too obvious. "Yeah, just thinking. Let's call it a night, guys. We'll regroup tomorrow."

As everyone files out, I pour myself another drink and return to my spot on the couch. The city lights twinkle beyond my window, but all I can see is Gia's face. Her smile, her laugh, the fire in her eyes when she looked at me that night at the bar.

I know I should let this go. This is ridiculous. I’ve spent all of an hour with this girl at the most. Why can’t I get her out of my head? A relationship with Gia would complicate everything. But for the first time in years, I find myself wanting something more than power and money. I want her.

As I stare at one of my newly acquired paintings on the wall, I can almost see Gia's reflection in it. Her dark eyes, her mischievous smile. I remember the way she looked at me that night, like she could see right through all my defenses.

Collecting art is a passion of mine. And I’ve found a new artist whose work speaks to me, calms my soul when I look at the abstract swirls of color. I make a mental note to see if that gallery has any new pieces. I could use all the calm in my life that I can find.

I think about what Luca said about burying the hatchet. Could it really be that simple? Could we just... decide to let go of generations of hatred and mistrust?

But then I think about my father, about the stories he told me growing up. The betrayals, the violence, the blood spilled on both sides. Can all of that really be forgotten?

And yet... when I close my eyes, all I can see is Gia. The way she laughed at the bar, head thrown back, completely unselfconscious. The fire in her eyes when she realized who I was, a mix of anger and something else... disappointment, maybe?

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