Page 6 of Dominance

I hope this letter finds you well. You cannot imagine my relief to have finally found you. This may come as a surprise to you, but I have been looking for you your entire life. My name is Domenico Vipera; I am your father.

And I would like to offer you an opportunity…

1

ADRIANO

“You know the drill.” Stefano taps the counter with one finger, always antagonistic. His face is a constant sneer, twisting harder at the graying old man behind the counter. Stereotypical mob thug.

The store owner, Pablo, looks exhausted. He’s shaky.

But he’s used to this.

The monthly pay up. Protection.

Another stereotype.

And a time-honored tradition in New York. Even if the family in charge has recently changed and the rates and the threats have gone up to quash any bold ideas of resisting.

I get it Pablo, this sucks.

Then there’s me, standing there like a fucking small-time robber, holding up gas stations, convenience stores, markets. We just hit the nail salon next door, and I swear the old lady wanted to pull a gun on us.

They know better, but I can’t blame them. I hate every second of this too.

I haven’t done this sort of grunt work since I was a teenager, sent on errands by Alessandro, Domenico, or sometimes even Don Giancarlo himself.

The main difference is that now, I’m being sent out on these runs by Don Domenico Vipera, the same guy who stole the throne from my brother. Who vanished years ago, then reappeared with an army and funding and cut our knees out from under us.

It was fast. Calculated.

And the elders in our own family turned on us out of fear.

Leaving us little option but to fake Aless’s death and hide him and his pregnant wife. Then allowing me thehonorof coming back to Dom, to prevent a manhunt of my younger brothers and I.

“Hey, nice curtains you got there, Pablo, they Persian or something?” Stefano fingers the fabric.

I shake my head as the store owner inhales, practically shaking with rage as Stef spits his gum out into the corner of the curtain and smashes it in. “Fucking ugly, if you ask me. Get new ones.”

“Stefano, cut that shit out.” Don’t shoot him. It’ll just cause more problems.

“What?” He grins, resting his hand on his pistol tucked into his pants. Always with the gun, this guy, like it’s an extension of his cock and what little brains he has.

Stef never did grow up.

“Go wait outside.” I snip, jerking my head toward the door.

“What the fuck, Adri? We ain’t kids no more.”

“This is why I make you wait in the car, you fuckwit. Learn how to act and I won’t have to treat you like one.” Funny how I wind up talking like him when he pushes my buttons.

“Fuckin’ bullshit…” he grumbles, slouching out through the door with a ding of the digital bell.

Stefano looks ten years older than me even though we’re the same age. Grew up in the same circles.

The only reason I can tolerate him at all is the fact that I’ve known him my entire life.

And most of the time, he’s not that bad.

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