Page 33 of Dominance

“Well?” I snap back to the present, tilting my head and holding out my hand.

The man hesitates for only a moment before reluctantly handing me the packets. I’m definitely going to go head-to-head with Dom about this.

Standing my ground as his second, I have every right to be pissed about underlings defying my orders.

The guy bows his head in deference to my stormy expression. Then he’s back in his car and zooming off down the dark road.

“Damn. I’m off to Macau. More Triad fun for me.”

“What’s the mark?”

“Banker contact. No way it’s clean, so…”

“Be careful Ciro,” I grumble, heading back to the car. “And don’t steal anything from the Triad, please.”

“Hey, I’m the embodiment of careful! And there’s good gambling in Macau, at least. Something to do.”

“Don’t blow all of your money.”

“I’ll just blow all of Dom’s allowance for the trip, promise,” he quips, kicking his feet up. “Where are you headed, Ero?”

“Morocco.”

“For …”

“Doesn’t say. Orders forthcoming.”

“Wow. Must be something extra sneaky.”

Ciro continues chattering as we drive back to the warehouse, but I can tell he’s tense. We all are.

Back at our cars, we linger for a moment, eyeing each other. It’s awkward sometimes, the sentimental stuff.

Mostly just for me.

But there’s a chance that every time they head off on these missions for Dom that they might not make it back. Or if they do, that I’ll be gone. We hug it out, never speaking those thoughts, but sharing the burden nonetheless.

“You want me to take you to the airport?” I offer.

“Um. No. Orders say we need to make one stop before we head out. A stop off at the Diamond Lounge.”

“Ah. Right.” Of course, they have to meet with Dom privately to fill him in on their latest findings. Mission reports. And he’ll probably question them about anything off-script that went on.

So, we part ways and I’m left with nothing to do in the middle of the night. I should go home. Sleep.

Yeah. Right.

After everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, I feel amped up. Tightly wound.

I take a drive, heading nowhere.

The time alone gives me an opportunity to lay out everything I know so far. To let ideas and brainstorms flow freely. One that’s been coalescing in the back of my head for weeks.

Patterns. Inconsistencies.

It hits me as I’m turning onto the 278. What I really need to do.

It’s risky. And impossible for me to keep up with.

---