Page 32 of Dom
I hesitated thinking about if I wanted to tell him about Carmen, but this was Tone, my fuckin’ brother, my right-hand man, and somebody who I knew would take a bullet for me. When he found out about Shona, he talked to me like a man, now it was my turn. “Carmen pregnant.”
Tone blinked a few times and just stared at me. He knew how strongly I felt about not wanting no kids, which was the same reason he never wanted none. “Damn.” He sighed and ran both his hands over the top of his head. He immediately poured another two shots, and we dogged them just as quick as the first.
“Yeah.” I told him, appreciating the burn as the liquor went down.
“You tell anybody else?”
“Hell nah. You the first. I want to give Carmen that space to announce her own pregnancy when she’s ready. I don’t feel like it’s my place… I gotta give her that.”
He sat down across from me, with both elbows on the table, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world too. “Ain’t gon’ lie, bro. This shit we livin’? It ain’t made for peace. Every time I look at Shona’s belly, I wonder if I’m gon’ be around to see that baby turn one. This is why I made you promise that if anything happens to me, please be the step-up daddy to my kid man, which I know you would, but still… shit is terrifying than a muhfucka.”
That hit me in the chest ‘cause Tone was never soft, but he was always real and everything he said was the truth. “I feel the same,” I admitted. “It’s like, damn, how do I protect what I love when the world tryin’ to kill me every fuckin’ day?”
Tone nodded. “You don’t… you just be the type of man they’ll always remember, and you go harder for them than you ever did for the streets.”
That shit sat with me heavy as his words echoed through my mind. He poured up again and this time we clinked glasses anddowned the shots. The liquor may have burned, but not harder than the fuckin’ truth. “I hear you man, I hear you.”
Tone scratched his head like he was thinking about saying something else or maybe trying to see how to word it. “Yo, maybe we should’ve got neutered and shit, then we wouldn’t be in trouble with our dicks now.”
I gave Tone a hard look and shook my head. My head was pounding too heavy to laugh at this nigga right now. “You mean a vasectomy? We ain’t no fuckin’ dogs.”
“Says who?” He shot back with the jokes and shit. I simply shook my head. It was good having Tone around. I felt like I was about to die before he walked in, taking my mind off the flu. A few seconds later and my phone was buzzing once again. This time it was one of my people posted outside Victoria’s new condo, just confirming her security was set and the cameras were active with eyes on every angle and no blind spots.
I texted back a simple reply:Good. Keep her close.
After that, Tone left and I slumped back on the couch, with my head still heavy. My empire was in motion. My family was expanding, and my city still belonged to me. However, deep down, I knew everything was changing, and I wasn’t ready for some of them, but I’d be damn if I didn’t protect what was mine, no matter how much I wasn’t ready.
It had been just a few days since I began working at the spa downtown, but it felt like a lifetime since I last moved this freely because I never truly had. The Royal Spa was nestled in a high-rise in the center of Miami’s most elite district. Everything just sparkled down to the marble floors, the chrome-accented doors, even the glass bowls filled with sliced cucumbers and floating orchids that could be smelled in the air. The elevator ride up alone was enough to remind me that this life was unfamiliar to me… a new territory.
I sat at the front desk behind a curved marble counter wearing a white blouse with soft sleeves and a beige skirt that hugged my curves. I had a tiny name tag pinned to my top read that read, ‘Valerie’ and it still didn’t feel like me at all. Sometimes when the girls called my name, I wouldn’t even turn around to answer because it wasn’t familiar to me and the alias hadn’t stuck to my spirit yet, but I was truly learning because I wanted this.
“Valerie, can you check the 3:00 p.m. for the Luxe Renewal Facial?” One of the techs politely asked, wheeling a cart of warm towels past me.
I smiled at her and nodded my head. “Yes, it’s confirmed. Ms. Thornton will be here at 2:45.”
“Perfect,” she beamed before disappearing into one of the back suites.
This job wasn’t hard at all, it was just... different. I wasn’t being watched every second and I wasn’t being used as a pawn. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t expected to spy, seduce, or survive. I was able to just be me… or Valerie. I felt like I was being some version of myself that had never existed before. The other women who worked here were beautiful and poised, but they welcomed me without judgment, and I appreciated that. Their Miami accents made me smile because it was so much carefree spirits. They talked about brunch spots, their latest nail sets, or the drama from whatever reality show aired the night before. It was strange but peaceful being in a room full of women who had no idea what it felt like to hold a gun.
The spa itself was a dream come true for any woman. It had soft lighting, eucalyptus diffusers, and playlists of flutes and water sounds feeling like the total opposite of the world I came from. A world where I had to fake strength while being pulled apart inside. My new condo wasn’t far from the spa either and I was loving it, it was sleek and modern with white walls; a glass balcony, a stainless-steel kitchen, and a rainfall shower I could stay under for hours. I had a bed with fluffy grey covers, silk curtains, and a wine rack. I had my own space for the first time in my life with no uncle hovering over my shoulder and no blood on the concrete of every corner I hit, and yet... even with the new identity, new job, and new apartment, there was a part of me that still felt like I didn’t belong sometimes. It was like I’d walked into someone else’s life and borrowed their clothes and name. Ihad called Dom earlier that morning to thank him once again. He didn’t say much like usual, but I heard the truth in his silence sometimes. He still didn’t trust me yet and I hadn’t done enough to earn that, but he gave me this shot anyway and I wasn’t going to waste it.
When I walked out of the spa that evening, the sun was beginning to set painting the sky golden hues along the skyline, and I felt proud that I made it through another day. I was proud that I had work, and a name, and a chance to build something even if I wasn’t sure what. My phone vibrated, one of the ones Dom gave me, and I was still getting used to it, but I appreciated the gesture. It always vibrated as a reminder that he was protecting me or somebody was watching me. In a way, I did feel like I needed it, and it felt like safety, even if it came in the form of shadows and not him.
As I entered my condo and kicked off my heels, I poured myself a glass of Stella and opened the windows. The breeze carried in the sounds of traffic, music, and some laughter from my neighbors on a nearby balcony. Yep, I belonged to the world now… not just the cartel and not just Dom. I was slowly finding myself, and just maybe... I’d earn a real name again one day.
After I got settled, I floated across my polished tile floor in a pair of fuzzy white slippers, then tapped my phone to start a playlist. I wanted to hear something Latin, warmth and familiar so I played Juan Luis Guerrasong, ‘Bachata Rosa’ and the first few notes instantly made my curvy hips start to sway. Any loneliness I felt vanished just like that in this moment.
Deciding to cook, I headed into the open-concept kitchen. There was already a stocked fridge when I moved in thanks to the Royals and I’d always known how to make something out of anything. Tonight, I craved‘arroz con coco’and‘pollo guisado’, slow-cooked chicken in a tomato-based stew with bell peppers, garlic, and seasoning that reminded me of the chefs back homewho cooked for me. It was the kind of meal that made even the coldest home feel like someone loved you. As the pot simmered, the aroma filled the condo and finally made the place smell like a Cuban restaurant. I danced a little as I stirred the pot, catching my reflection in the balcony doors. I may have looked free, but I was still bruised on the inside.
Later, I showered and wrapped my hair in a towel, then sat at the edge of the bed in a robe while searching for a Dominican hair salon near Brickell on my phone. I needed a blowout and a fresh press, maybe even some highlighted streaks or maybe just dye my entire head. I needed something to make me feel like the woman I knew was inside me. I found a spot just a few blocks from the spa. It was bright, classy, and had all five-star reviews. I bookmarked it and made a note to stop by during my lunch break tomorrow.
I woke up early, made a cup of espresso, and dressed in my neutral-toned work clothes with beige slacks, a soft white blouse, and my nude heels. My hair was pulled into a sleek bun for now, but I was determined to look my best by the afternoon. When I arrived at the spa, the other girls greeted me as they always did. A few of them commented on how calm and composed I always seemed, and how I kept myself like I belonged somewhere... royal. I only smiled in return because they had no idea. Everything to them was what they saw in front of them. They had no idea what an underworld was or that it even existed. They couldn’t walk a mile in my shoes or live the life that I had.
By noon, I slipped out during lunch and made my way to the salon I'd found the night before and the driver never gave meany issues. The smell of heat protectant, hairspray, and coconut oil greeted me as soon as I hit-the-door.
“Buenos días,” the receptionist said. “Do you have an appointment?”
“I was hoping to do a blowout during my break,” I answered looking at my watch. “I only have about an hour.”
