Page 130 of Dominance

We toured the countryside. We toured Florence.

Lovey-dovey bullshit.

Alright, that part actually sort of happened. Kissing her under the moon, on the rooftop terrace of our hotel after dinner at il Paiolo was admittedly pretty spectacular. Unfortunately, instead of going back to said hotel room and capitalizing on that romantic evening, we snuck out on a little detour.

A detour to check on her sister in Paris. I only wish I could have let Gloria see her, talk to her. But at least we know she’s alright. Having some sway with the Le Nouveau Milieu, a new generation of the old French mob, I made sure someone is keeping an eye on her too.

With Anna’s safety secured, we’re heading home.

“You’re sure he won’t be able to find out?”

“Positive. Cicero owed me a dozen favors.” All cashed in to get us a private, untraceable flight from Florence to Paris and back. A rushed afternoon of driving back to Rome gets us on a nine-plus hour flight back to New York.

“Thank you.” Gloria squeezes my hand, looking out the window of the jet over the sun-drenched clouds. Chasing the sunset all the way back to the states always feels strange. All the same, Gloria gets some sleep, I nod off for maybe an hour.

I don’t know how things will go when we arrive.

Dom might not have bought our story.

Or he’ll act like nothing happened. If so, it also means that we’re on track to get married Sunday. Giving us one day and night before we follow through with our plan to out Dom to the family, to his so-called allies.

I only hope the shred of proof I dug up from my contact in AISE is enough to sway them.

The key will be waiting for the right opportunity. Put Dom on the ropes. Or get him to make a run for it.

Not my best work at planning.

But I’m running out of favors and the list of trustworthy contacts is painfully short these days.

We’ve worked ourselves into a corner here. Dom’s dug in.

The only saving grace is that he’s also stretched our syndicate thin with his payouts, promises, and threats. If we can even put a crack in his foundation, plant one seed of doubt in that crack, it may be enough to set things in motion.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Sure.” I rub my red eyes, knowing full well she can see through my bullshit.

Scanning the terminal with blurry vision, I can’t decide if the crowds are a good thing or a bad thing. Dom could have someone watching us or waiting to spring on us, and I’d never spot them coming. Even at this hour, ass-crack-thirty in the morning, the airport is busy.

So after a nerve-racking rush to baggage claim, we catch a cab back to the apartment.

Uneventful.

Which is almost worse.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop has my nerves shot to shit.

Add to that the fact that I opened up to Gloria in Italy, truly and vulnerably. More than I ever have with anyone.

Which involved sharing my most dangerous, and personal secret. Not just mine, either. But fair is fair. Now, she knows about Alessandro and Isabella. And their baby. It’s a risk I had to take. She’s the only risk worth taking.

My only reassurance is that she feels the same. She shared as much of her life as I did, so at least we have equal footing. Or we have enough leverage on one another for mutually assured destruction if one of us turns.

God, I hate that I think that way.

Dropping our bags in the corner, I flop down on the bed, sitting back up almost immediately. I can’t stop fidgeting.

Rooting through my desk, I dig out an old device.

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