Page 74 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

Dominic

I stood outside the closed door at the end of the upstairs hallway. It was always closed, though I knew my mother went inside sometimes. Not often, just once in a while when I’d lived here, I’d heard the quiet click of the door late at night.

I’d avoided the room at first, like I could pretend she was still here so long as I saw no proof she was gone.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open. I reached for the lighter in my pocket by habit, fiddling with it as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

The walls and floors had been repaired, but the room had been otherwise left bare aside from a small table in the corner where my mother had placed the things that hadn’t been burned—a decade ago. There weren’t many. A few books, two stuffed bears, and a small stack of hand-drawn pictures. I’d looked through them so many times that even though it had been years since I’d been in here, I remembered every detail on every page. Rainbows, birds, my mother, the park my father had taken us often. A picture of me, though if my name wasn’t scrawled across the bottom, no one would have known it. Sofia had been a terrible artist.

I breathed deep, pushing away the familiar ache in my chest. I wasn’t in here for a trip down memory lane, but because I needed some place quiet, and every other room in the house was anything but quiet.

We were one signature shy in the first stage of getting our casino underway, but that signature was proving difficult. And difficult was the last thing I needed when we were preparing to go to war.

There was one person who could help get the signature on the page, but it made my skin crawl to even think about it.

I stared down at Belemonte’s business card. He was a financier by trade according to the card. The letters were printed in bloodred. Each number I punched into my cellphone burned a hole through my fingers.

“Mr. Belemonte’s office, how can I help you?” A sweet feminine voice came from the other end.

“Mr. Belemonte, please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Dominic Luca,” I said.

“One moment, please.”

“Dominic!” The man’s excited voice came from the depths of hell. It left a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I knew you’d call.”

“Belemonte,” I said. “I’ve been having some trouble with getting the last signature on the license.”

“Ah, it’s always something, isn’t it? Don’t you worry about it, Dominic. I’ve got connections. I could have it sorted out in a few days,” he said. “You do understand, though, that I’m going to have to ask you for a favor if I’m to go above and beyond for you.”

“Of course. What is it you want?”

I’d been in this business far too long to expect something for nothing. There was always a cost.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll put this favor in my pocket for now. But Dominic, when the day comes, there will be blood on your hands.”

When wasn’t there?

The click of a closing door made me turn around, but there was no one here. I listened for a moment, but there were no sounds of footsteps in the hallway.

“It’s a deal, Belemonte,” I said then hung up the phone.

It was a necessary evil, perhaps, but I was so fucking tired of all the blood on my hands.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Fallon

“You’ve been acting strange, you know that?” Corinne said as she, Leo, and I delved into a plate of fries in the center of the table in the diner a few blocks away from the clinic.

I’d had to get permission from Leo for this little lunch away from the office. No doubt, he’d had to run it by his fucking brother first—a brother I hadn’t seen in several days.

I’d left for work early each morning and stayed at the clinic as late as I could ever since the day I’d overheard Dominic’s phone conversation. When Leo brought me back to the Luca estate, I made a beeline for my room and locked the door behind me.

I felt bad that the long hours were probably taxing on Leo, but he never complained.

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