Page 14 of DOM: The Miami King

Tone smirked, standin’ in the corner, with his arms folded, watchin’ her movements like a dog watchin’ a door. I led her upstairs to the master suite where there was a king-sized bed, a private balcony, soundproof glass, walk-in closet, and a spa-style bath.

“This is yours,” I informed. “You come here when I say. You leave when I say. Nobody touches that door unless I authorize it.”

Victoria walked to the window and slid the curtain slightly open. “You really think they’re gonna find me?”

“They already lookin’,” I told her. “We just stayin’ ahead.”

“Are you still not going to tell me who’s after me? Or should I contact my dear uncle?”

Just like a woman, just couldn’t fuckin’ chill. She thought she wanted to know, or maybe she did know and was playin’ shit close like her uncle, but I’d soon find out. “Just relax.”

She turned around finally removin’ her shades. “You always this paranoid?”

I stepped closer in her space hoverin’ over her. “I’m still alive, ain’t I?”

She had been around Cartel all of her life. El Blanca ran shit with an iron fist so my presence shouldn’t have affected her, but I saw in her eyes that she’d fuck me if she had the opportunity. Victoria wasn’t as sweet as she seemed, and I sensed that shit. We stared at each other, and in that second, I saw she was scared, but she wasn’t strong enough to admit it. She folded her hands across her chest and blinked back the tears of fire in her eyes. She tried to hold it back, enough for her chin to twitch just slightly when she looked away. She didn’t want to be here, if she could be around me twenty-four seven she would.

“You good?” I asked.

She nodded, refusing to drop her head. “Just tired of being a fucking target.”

“You ain’t a target in here,” I said. “Not unless you turn into one.”

She deeply gazed into my eyes with a hard look understanding exactly what I was sayin’. I glared at her one last time before walkin’ off to make a phone call. Outside on the balcony, I pulled out my burner phone and called the one man I didn’t fully trust right now, El Blanca. The line clicked after two rings.

“You’re still breathing, which means Victoria is okay, good.”

I felt my jaws tighten. The only reason I even dealt with El Blanca was because we were much stronger as allies on the business side. “She’s secure,” I said. “Safe house, locked down, and teams posted.”

“I told you I wanted her with‘you’,Dominic.”

I gritted my teeth. “And I’m tellin’ you that ain’t happenin’. I’m already jugglin’ too much. She’s safer here than in my penthouse while I’m in and outta meetings, cleanin’ up cartel messes, and duckin’ federal heat.”

“You’re getting bold.”

“I been bold. What’s the real concern, OG? You think I’m gon’ leave her? Let her get got? I don’t understand why you down my back like you don’t know me.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “You’ll rotate her back as needed.”

“Yeah, I’m with that. Night moves and emergencies only, otherwise, she gotta stay here.”

He didn’t say another word. He did what he always did and hung-up leavin’ shit in the air with no confirmation, and no denial; that’s the shit that bothered me. He was playin’ chess, but I wasn’t sure whose side the board was tilted toward no more. I thought back to the first time I met his ass… wouldn’t say I’d take it back if I could, ‘cause the truth is I wouldn’t. He played a major role in how I’d grown till this very day.

I remember the first time I met El Blanca ‘cause it would forever be stitched in my mind. It wasn’t in no boardroom, and it wasn’t over no contracts, or champagne, or none of that fancy shit. It was behind a burnt-out cigar lounge deep in Miami, back when Little Havana was still half bullets and filled with broken dreams ‘cause everybody was simply just tryna make it.

I was twenty-one and fresh off my first real run with Royal Enterprises. We were clean on paper the paper with luxury vehicles, custom shipments, global clientele but behind that, it was still baby moves. The money was good, but it wasn’t yet great. The respect was local, but not yet global and I wanted more. El Blanca smelled it on me the second I walked into that backroom.

He sat there with a fat Cuban cigar rolled up between two gold-ringed fingers ,and his linen suit was expensive. His brown skin was smooth, but his eyes were like a fuckin’ wolf. They just looked hungry and calculated. Four of his men surrounded the room. From what I scoped, two of them stood with their guns visible. The other two stood with invisible intentions. I walked in clean, wearing a gray hoodie, black jeans, and a Glock tucked in the small of my back. I didn’t sweat, nor did I let them choke me up and stutter. He smiled when he saw me, but his grin just looked evil and almost shark like.

"You Dominic Royal?" he asked, in a smooth tone.

"Yeah," I answered, still standin’ tall.

"I heard about you," he said. "You move like you aren’t scared of nobody, as if you know the streets owe you something."

I didn’t respond. Instead, I just let my silence speak for me. He puffed his cigar and leaned forward in his chair. "You’ve got something. I can see it… it’s fire, it’s smarts, and loyalty. Those are the things that money can’t buy." He tapped the ash from his cigar onto a gold tray. "But ambition without guidance?" he said, slightly cocking his head. "That gets you killed in this city."

Miami wasn’t even his city, he was from Mexico, but he did a lot of business in Miami so I could get why he felt like he knew about it. I stayed still and let him talk. I knew a salesman when I saw one. He chuckled, while leaning back. "Let’s make each other stronger, hijo. You got Royal Enterprises. It’s a pretty little setup with big dreams, but you need reach. You need protection at the ports. You need a network wider than your block." He spread his arms wide. "I can give you all of that… overnight."