Chapter 22
Dominic POV
Dominic sat at his desk long after the sun had set, the glow from the single lamp on his left casting jagged shadows across the room.
A bottle of whiskey stood half-drained beside him next to where his hand rested, the amber liquid glinting like gasoline under the soft light.
He hadn’t touched a single drop of it since it had been poured.
His fingers drummed absently on the wood grain. The files in front of him detailing contingency plans for Leonardo’s elimination and the subsequent fallout were unread. It didn’t matter though, he knew them all by heart anyway.
What he didn’t know—what he still couldn’t decide, rather—was what the hell to do about Aurora.
She had become a complication. A distraction. A threat. The idea of removing her from the board the way he’d done with so many others refused to sit right in his chest now that she’d had time to settle her way into his life even if it was only supposed to be a temporary thing.
He couldn’t kill her.
Was it guilt? Possessiveness? Something else?
If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the shape of her pressed to him from that night spent with him at his penthouse. Thay broken way she’d whispered for him to give her more, demanded it like he owed it to her. How she’d confided in her the troubles in her own life, with her father and growing up being nothing but a burden to her family.
Those memories clawed at him.
The worst part about all of this was how easy it would be to build a narrative around her. Center her as the very reason his father would soon lay dead at the foot of their altar staining the train of her white gown as he bled with it trapped beneath him.
Aurora as the unwilling bride turned vengeful killer. A tragic story that would explain how her husband-to-be ended up dead without implicating the full wrath of the Carusos or his own family. She could take the blame and he would rise as the wounded son left behind, forced to take her out as a means of revenge.
That would be expected of him, after all—to seek justice in the only form that was acceptable: a bullet between the eyes.
The power transfer would be smooth. Clean.
Except it wouldn’t be for him.
The inner turmoil of having to take her out, allow her to take the fall and be forced to kneel in front of him as he trained the muzzle to her forehead while tears streamed down her face…
Dominic knew, with a sickening certainty, that when that moment came—when the whole room stared at him, waiting for him to avenge his father—he wouldn’t be able to do it. He wouldn’t be able to click the safety off or finger the trigger.
Not with her staring up at him while she silently begged for him to make it quick.
That was a line he couldn’t cross. And now that truth was starting to eat him alive. What could he possibly do now? There were too many things in the works already. Too many cogs in motion to slow any of this down.
The wedding would be upon them in days. No other opportunity would present itself like this and Dominic highly doubted there would be one in the future that would come close to the stars aligning again.
Figuring out another plan would waste too much time that he already didn’t have.
A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts, pulling him back into the present.
“Come in,” He said without standing to open the door himself. He know by the sharp rapp of the fist against the other side of the door who it was anyway.
Romero soon opened the door and stepped inside, a frown already placed on his face.
He didn’t wait for permission before speaking. “We need to finalize the details for the wedding. Our men are asking for the final decision.”
Dominic sighed. “I’m aware.”
“You’ve been working on this for three days. We don’t have time to keep working things over. The plan isn’t going to be perfect, Dominic, no matter how much time you spend agonizing over it..”
“I’m almost done,” Dominic muttered.
“You’ve barely made any progress,” Romero snapped, coming over to the side of the desk to look at the papers strewn over its surface. “We both know why.”
Dominic’s eyes snapped to him. “You really want to have this conversation again?”
“Apparently I have to, because you’ve lost your goddamn edge.” He shook his head. “She’s in your head. You’ve grown soft around her.”
Dominic stood, his chair sliding back with a sharp scrape. “Careful.”
Romero didn’t flinch. “You’re risking the entire operation—our lives—for one woman.”
Dominic’s jaw clenched. “No. I’m not.”
“Then what is it?” Romero gestured to the desk, the papers, everything.
“I told you, I’m still working—”
“Stop. Stalling. You need to kill her. End of discussion.”
Dominic’s fists curled at his sides.
Romero exhaled, lowering his voice. “This has to be clean. We can’t afford second thoughts at this point, we’re all in too deep. We sure as hell can’t afford Aurora Caruso becoming your blind spot.”
Dominic turned his back on him, walking toward the door. He didn’t look back when Romero said his name again. He just reached for his coat and walked out.
Dominic drove aimlessly for blocks, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration while the ghost of Aurora followed him like an omen.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Romero was unfortunately right. In the time he’d spent crafting this plan and unexpectedly getting close to Aurora, she had started to become a weakness. Not one he wanted nor needed but one nonetheless.
While matters of the heart could never truly be helped, Dominic was never one to give in to his baser desires outside of casual hookups to blow off steam. Ever since that night with Aurora though, he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman let alone brought one to his bed.
What did that mean?
He didn’t want to think about it. Because if he did, it might up-end this entire operation before he could gain control again.
Sighing, he slowed his car and parked outside a set of tall, iron gates.
The Caruso estate loomed ahead.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered to himself.
Of all fucking places…
The smart thing to do would’ve been to leave. Instead, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the right one.
She picked up on the third ring. He had no idea why that made something in his chest move.
“Dominic?” Her voice was sleepy, confused, when she answered. “What’s wrong?”
“Come outside,” he said.
A pause. “What?”
“Out front. By the gate.”
Another pause, longer this time. “Okay. Give me five minutes.”
He dropped the call before he could make the mistake of saying anything else.
Leaning back in his chair, he rested his chin on the back of his hand and stared past the gate, up to the windows where he knew Aurora was.
He needed to get her out of his head, before all of this went sideways.
He just wasn’t sure how.
