Page 10 of Hard Wired

Chapter Four

It was three in the morning, and Dominic was haunting the upstairs hallways. Maureen had her own space on the first level, so this floor was his for wandering and brooding at all hours of the night.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the pixie with the pink glasses and the oversized attitude. Sylvie.

I don’t usually waste my time on installs.

She might as well have said, I don’t usually waste my time on trash like you.

He’d detested the way she’d looked at him—sometimes like she wanted to lick him head to toe, but other times like he was a worm she wanted to crush beneath her combat boot. She was the first beautiful woman he’d seen in person in ages, and she’d made him feel like dirt. As if he was good enough for an eye fuck, but not common courtesy.

So yes, he’d toyed with her a little. Just to prove he could. It had felt so damn satisfying to see the desire on her face, hear that sexy little moan, after she’d claimed to want nothing to do with him.

But sexual desire wasn’t the same as respect. Or even basic civility. He might’ve proved that Sylvie wanted his body, but she’d never feel anything more than disgust for him as a human being.

Why did that bother him so much? He didn’t even know the woman. Why did he care what she thought?

Maybe because he’d been flirting with her at first, hoping for a positive reaction. But a woman like her would never stoop so low. Right?

Mobster-slash-murderer.

Fine, some people would consider him a mobster. But Dominic was innocent of that ridiculous murder charge. Max Bennett knew it, and the district attorney’s office knew it.

They’d accused him of ordering a hit on the victim—which he hadn’t done—and then the police had uncovered a separate conspiracy related to the killing altogether. But the DA and his minions wouldn’t drop the charge unless Dominic agreed to rat on the Syndicate. It was bullshit.

He’d done other “bad” things. But so did plenty of people.

Sylvie’s tattoos and fierce attitude had hinted that she might not view the world in black and white. That she might give him the benefit of the doubt. But he’d thought wrong. Sylvie was as judgmental as most anyone born with the privilege of moral superiority.

Dominic had never had the luxury of being so pure.

He noticed a light blinking. It was the new security panel Sylvie had installed for this floor. A touch of his finger lit up the screen. It had various controls for the cameras, a silent alarm, an audible panic button. Sylvie hadn’t asked him for any further opinions during the set-up, so he wasn’t exactly sure where she’d placed the cameras. Nor did he really care. He was glad to see that Maureen had armed the system before going to bed, since he’d forgotten.

As he watched, the screen pixilated, then switched to “not armed.” Then back to “armed” again. Weird. It was probably some technical glitch. Not like he understood any of that stuff.

But this fresh reminder of the pixie in pink glasses and combat boots annoyed him. He would’ve much preferred kissing her to walking away earlier, but no doubt she’d have slapped him.

He stalked down the hall, looking for something else to take his attention.

A few minutes later he found himself in an unused guest room. Dominic stretched out on the bed, took out his phone, and video called his younger brother.

Raymond answered. His dorm room was dark, and the screen lit up his face. “Nic?”

Dominic sat up against the pillows. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I fell asleep working on a paper, so it’s good you did. I need to finish.”

“It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

Raymond had an unpredictable sleep schedule, just like Dominic. The brothers usually ended up talking at odd hours, usually sometime after midnight and before breakfast. But they’d been speaking even less since Dominic’s arrest and ouster from the Syndicate. He didn’t know the exact reason, and that made him nervous.

Raymond was Dominic’s half brother. They shared the same father, but Raymond had been born to their dad’s mistress when Dominic was around twelve years old. His own mom lasted a bit longer in their marriage, but the affair helped explain why his mom took off eventually, unable to stand her husband’s philandering. It was a bit cliché, a mobster with a mistress and a long-suffering wife. But the whole drama had given him a younger brother, so while Dominic didn’t approve of his dad’s cheating, he also couldn’t really complain.

Raymond had moved in with them when he was just a baby. He’d had a special nanny and lived in a secluded part of their L.A. house. The rest of the family had laughed at Dominic for playing with Raymond in the nursery. But he’d known, even then, that his brother’s innocence was something precious. Worth protecting.

When Dominic took over the Syndicate, Raymond had just graduated high school. Dominic had ensured that his younger brother went off to college instead of joining the business. It was the single accomplishment he was most proud of. Now Raymond was three years into a history degree and planned to become a teacher.

Sometimes, Dominic wondered what he might’ve done if he hadn’t joined the business at eighteen. His father hadn’t given him a choice, really. It was either join or get the fuck out of town, never see his brothers again, and hope nobody was pissed enough to track him down.

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