Page 45 of The Don's Forbidden Obsession

It was war now.

“Do we know why he hit us?” I asked. “What message is he trying to send?”

Dimitri shrugged.

Whatever it was, it was a direct challenge.

An insult.

And I wasn’t going to back down.

Thoughts of vengeance swirled in my mind, fueled by the memories of all the chaos that went down in my club. I lost good men in there, and some patrons.

I had to work all fucking night to pay off my NYPD staff just to keep it as hushed as possible.

Knowing he was behind it all.

It was lighting a fire inside of me. Igniting a rage.

This was personal.

I was about to get real personal back. Up close and personal.

Dominic’s factory. That's where I was going to hit him, and hard

I knew about it. I let him have his little drug operation. I had bigger fish to fry, and I didn’t want to risk getting tangled up in it all. But now, it was my target. My only target.

“They’re going to pay for this,” I muttered to my brother as he sat down beside me on the couch. “They thought they could take me down?”

They were in for a rude awakening.

I was going to unleash a storm on them. One that they could have never dreamed of.

“He thinks we’re a bunch of chumps,” Dimitri laughed low in his chest as he crossed his arms over his belly to settle down further into the couch. “But we do need to find out what his motive is.”

“Gentlemen,” Enzo called from the hall. My underboss and best friend.

My head snapped up to look at him. “I have Jacob Kendall looking into Dominic’s security systems,” he announced, pride bursting from his chest. “We’re going to find the weakness in his network and turn the shit off, sneak in, and take down his whole goddamn operation.”

Not bad.

I nodded. “Great job,” I complimented.

“That was the good news,” he said. “Do you want to know the bad news?”

I groaned. “Bad news?” I stood up and walked toward the window where my bar cart was parked. Hastily, I poured myself a drink. Sounded like I was going to need it.

“Your guy at the NYPD said he was going to have to track down some loose ends spreading rumors about the club shooting.”

My brow raised. “How is he gonna do that?” I mused. “We had a club full of regular people. Of course, there are rumors. We’re open to the public.”

“We have to nip it in the bud,” he said.

I shrugged. “How do you propose we do that? Track down all the innocent paying customers who got shot out and knock them off?” I smirked. “He needs to just do his fucking job and keep it under wraps with the cops. Who gives a shit about rumors?”

“We could be ruined by rumors, Boss,” he replied.

I turned to face him and took a couple of steps closer, my drink clutched tightly in my hand. “Cut the ‘Boss’ shit, will ya?” I snap. He had been my best friend since elementary school, and him calling me boss was fucking weird.

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