Page 1 of Fixate
CHAPTER 1
Ricardo
Past
Domenico Romano wasa man to be feared.
I knew this from the moment I met him.
It wasn’t simply because he was the head of the mafia or because of the guns on the table between us. All those things were standard in this area. You had to protect yourself by whatever means necessary to survive. There was no coming back from dead if you wound up on the wrong end of someone’s anger.
No, I knew Domenico’s power the minute I looked him in the eye. The darkness in his gaze was far worse than anything I’d ever seen before.
My grandmother would have made the sign of the cross, then she’d have likely doused herself in holy water to protect her from the living devil in the room. Too bad she’s not here to help me out.
There wasn’t a single soul who could save me from the hand of Mr. Romano, head of the most powerful mafia in thecountry. I’d committed the crime, and now I had to deal with the consequences.
It’s not as if I knew who he was when I lifted his wallet. He was just some suit whom I suspected to have deep pockets. As a kid on the verge of damn near starvation, I was willing to risk it for a few bucks to get a burger and a coke. Anything to take away this gnawing ache in my stomach.
As if the day couldn’t get worse, my body let out an atrocious growl, the hunger pain far worse than ever. Mr. Romano’s eyes never strayed from mine.
Finally, after far too long of a wait, he spoke. “You’re hungry.”
It wasn’t a question. Still, I nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
He leaned forward, his large form reaching across his massive desk to the phone propped in the corner. A buzzer sounded, then a soft female voice spoke.
“Yes, Mr. Romano?”
“Bring a tray of food to my office for my guest. A variety of things appropriate for a boy age…”
“Fourteen, sir,” I filled in when he raised his brow.
He continued speaking to the woman. “Fourteen.”
“Right away, sir.”
I watched as he placed his elbows atop his desk, confusion moving through me at the change in his mood. It was subtle, yet I could still tell he wasn’t as mad as before.
“You were good today. Skilled. I almost didn’t notice you stealing from me. Where did you learn?” he asked.
“No one taught me. I had to learn to survive.”
True enough. I did have a friend who once gave me some tips, except he died over a year ago after taking a knife to the gut during a debate over territory. He likely wouldn’t even be anyone Mr. Romano had heard of.
“I know you know who I am, boy,” he said. “And while I would normally punish you to prove a point, I believe there is a better purpose for you than being dead.”
It took everything I had not to visibly tremble before this man. Being given his mercy meant I’d likely suffer a fate worse than death. I’d be indebted to him.
I waited him out, unsure if speaking would be welcome or not. He hadn’t asked a direct question, nor did I want to rush his decision-making process.
“You’ll become one of my men. We will train you, just like I’m training my son. Instead of taking over for me, you’ll be ready to be one of his most trusted men. My men will break any notion of individuality. From now on, you are one of us.”
His smile took on a sinister gleam. I wanted to wretch, the feeling of doom too strong to ignore completely like I had before.
“Welcome to the Cosa Nostra, Ricardo.”
