Page 11 of Ruined

“Hey, Dom. Luca just left here.”

Santino Costa always skipped through small talk. I respected him for that. Hell, I owed him more than respect. Santino was the one who’d vouched for me when I first started climbing the ranks.

I smiled. “Oh? How is he?”

Santino exhaled roughly. “You tell me.”

“He’s got an opinion about everything and doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut,” I said, twirling a pen in my hand. “Questions every order like he’s testing me.”

“That’s not good.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t have time for his attitude.”

“Dom, come on. You know what he’s been through.”

“He needs to learn respect.”

“He’s not just some soldier you can destroy and rebuild. He’s already broken.”

I shrugged. “If I treat him like he’s fragile, he’ll shatter the second real pressure hits. You know that.”

“Push him to do better, but don’t push him too far.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I get it. You care about him. I’m not trying to hurt him, but I’m not coddling him, either. If he wants to make it, he’s got to learn how to take a hit.”

“I’m worried,” Santino said quietly. “The Bratva’s got a long reach. They might be gone from Boston, but you and I both know they don’t forget people like him.”

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Sonny.”

“He’s like a brother to me, Dom. I just want him to be okay.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ve got his back.”

“Thanks,” Santino said. “Means a lot.”

The call ended, and I set the phone down. Santino called a captain to put in a good word for his cousin. Did Luca realize how rare that was? How fuckinglucky?

When I’d been in his place, there was no one to back me up.

As much as he pissed me off, I wouldn’t let him fall. Luca would learn that weakness was fatal. In this family, money and power were keys to survival. The Costa name was gold, but only if those wielding it fell in line lock-fucking-step with the boss.

And the boss doubted Luca’s loyalty.

His name was the only reason he still breathed, and his potential to be of use to the family offered him more leniency than any of us would’ve dreamed. He could hate me all he wanted.

I was the reason he’d stay alive.

And, one day, he’d thank me for it in any wayIchose.

I headed home, the city lights a blur as I drove. I reached my apartment, my quiet sanctuary from the constant noise at the casino. I kicked off my shoes, tossing them neatly into the closet by the door. My jacket followed. I went straight to the bedroom. I had to wash off the stench of cigarette smoke.

I stripped off my slacks. As I unbuttoned my shirt, needles crawled up the back of my neck.

A man’s silhouette stretched across the carpet in the dim light. Right behind me. My pulse hammered, my muscles coiling. The mirror by the bed caught the faintest glint of movement. Whoever was there hadn’t noticed I’d clocked them. Amateur.

I kept my fingers moving, slipping the last button loose. My shirt slid off my shoulders. My movements were slow. Let him think he had the upper hand.

Naked, I walked into the bathroom. I turned on the shower.

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