Wicked Liar by Faith Summers

Chapter Three

Dominic

“Anything else you need, Boss?” Cory asks.

“No, I’m good.” I turn to face him as I shrug into my biker jacket.

It’s strange being called boss again. My brothers and I each have our own street guys. Cory has been mine for the last ten years. I’d bet I shocked him to shit when I called him last night requesting his presence at seven a.m. sharp. I also asked him to keep quiet about my return. Much as I wanted to speak to my brothers before anyone else, I can’t afford to waste time. Not with what I found.

“Check in with me as soon as you get any info,” I add, and he nods.

“You know I will. I ran a check and I have a hunch I want to look into.”

That is why I like working with this guy. He works like me. We follow hunches until we have a lead.

“Perfect.”

He nods and gives me a half-smile. He’s an enforcer for the family now, and I have to say he earned his stripes. The man doesn’t pussyfoot around shit, and he’s not afraid to take risks.

“I gotta say, it’s good to have you back, Dominic,” he states.

“Thanks. Good to be back.” It sounds like a lie, although I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. “Wish it was under better circumstances though.”

“I hear ya, but it is what it is. I’m sure your brothers will be glad you're home. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

One last nod and as I watch him go, I hope he’s right.

I’ve returned with bad news, but I hope Massimo and Tristan won’t be too mad at me for staying away for so long.

We didn’t exactly part on good terms either, and no one likes to be the bearer of bad news. Definitely not in relation to the Syndicate.

The Syndicate of the Brotherhood is a secret society that was originally made up of six crime families. Four Italian and two Bratva. The group was one my family belonged to for many generations.

When I was a kid my father lost everything, including his membership in the Syndicate too. Then when he built the D’Agostino empire and became a titan of wealth, he was reinstated and that’s where I think all the trouble began. It certainly started brewing from then. From that time, one secret was revealed after another. Each wreaking havoc in our lives.

Three and a half years ago, the original Syndicate was bombed in a secret plot to eliminate them. That was the day my father died.

The secret plot was instigated by Riccardo Balesteri. An enemy to our family who killed both my parents.

The bomb only injured Pa. He could have survived those injuries, but it was Riccardo’s bullet that killed him as he lay in the rubble and debris in Massimo's arms.

I keep thinking things would have been different had Riccardo not turned my eldest brother, Andreas, against us, but that was the final blow. Turning a brother against his own. A man we would trust with our lives.

Tristan would say he saw Andreas' betrayal coming. He’d probably bet good money on it too because he knew Andreas was jealous Pa made Massimo boss of the D’Agostino empire. Me though, with all my intelligence, never saw that hit until the blow was dealt and I was being told my father was dead and my eldest brother in his greed made that happen.

Riccardo and Andreas allied with other enemies who wanted to control the Syndicate. The goal was to enforce Code Ten: you keep what you kill. That was the Syndicate’s protocol of preserving the wealth accumulated and keeping it within the group. It ensured that when one member died, the remaining members would receive their shares and wealth. To my knowledge, the wealth at the time estimated at five hundred billion. Then there were all the assets, businesses, and properties they owned worldwide that brought in consistent wealth. Eliminating ninety percent of the members of the Syndicate should have meant that Riccardo would have gotten everything. He would have been an asset to our enemies.

Much to their dismay, things didn’t work out as planned when Riccardo and Andreas both died, and Massimo was the last man standing with the powers of the Syndicate at his disposal.

A handful of months after that saw my brothers and me on a quest for vengeance when an anonymous letter I found informed us that more people were responsible for the bombing, and we had more enemies who would bring war to our doorsteps.

That brings me to the reason I'm back.

I'm back because they are.

The problem is Massimo's ownership of the Syndicate means he has too much wealth, control, and power.

That problem is not one that will be going away anytime soon. As long as the Syndicate exists and it’s out of the enemy's control, we will always have trouble. We will always have to watch our backs because they’ll be lying in wait for the next chance to take control.

I’m very protective of my father’s vision and I know he wanted us to be part of the Syndicate, continuing the legacy of our forefathers. I’m not sure, though, he knew just how much danger we’d all be in because of it.

I grab the keys for my motorcycle and head out.

It’s showtime.

* * *

People do a double-take when they see me stroll into D’Agostinos Inc. They stare like they’ve just seen a ghost.

I tried to get here as early as possible to avoid the fuss. I greet those who talk to me like it was just yesterday we saw each other and try to keep any discussion to a minimum.

Thankfully, I’m early enough to avoid the bulk of the crowd and I’m able to make my way up to Massimo’s office without drawing too much attention.

Each person I speak to has that look of awe and curiosity, making me wonder how much they knew in relation to my absence. I doubt anyone would have given full details on why I left. In a family like mine, however, there’s never a dull moment and in my world, there’s always some sort of scandal. To be fair, the greetings I received appeared genuine, which is probably the result of being part of a family run business with down-to-earth people.

D’Agostinos Inc is a multibillion-dollar oil company that my father built from the ground up. Pa got the idea to go into the oil business a few years before I turned eighteen. The summer after that was when things really took off. The idea was something well and truly legit and outside anything you’d expect from a crime family with roots in the Sicilian Mafia. This company here is my father’s legacy.

I step out of the elevator and walk down the corridor. Candace has the office at the end. A year before I left, she started working here. I don’t expect her to be here yet, but I hurry along to Massimo’s office just in case. This isn’t how I want her to see me.

Massimo’s door is never locked so when I get to his office, I just open it and walk right in. Anything he has of value is in the safe or locked away in the grand mahogany desk that’s sitting in the far corner of the room near the windows.

The smell of the old wood and polished leather reminds me of my father. This used to be his office. It took Massimo a year to move in here after my father’s death. We just kept it with all his stuff until the day he realized it would be easier to have access to everything he needed to be in charge of the company.

I make my way over to the floor to ceiling glass windows and look out at the surroundings while I wait.

On a Monday morning, we usually meet in here before we do anything else, but that might have changed for my brothers now that they’re husbands and fathers. Both major differences to me. I just turned thirty-one and I still feel like the kid.

I’ve missed a lot with my departure. Massimo was already married when I left and had been for close to two years. Tristan wasn’t even talking about a wedding, but I knew it was in the cards for him.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear Massimo's and Tristan’s voices on the other side of the door.

“Tristan, that fucker doesn’t know how good he has it. If he wasn’t a family friend, I’d knock his teeth down his throat for wanting such a discount,” Massimo fumes.

At least he’s still as hot-tempered as he ever was.

“I keep telling you to get rid of his ass. It’s not like we need him. Threaten to give him the boot and you’ll see how fast he comes round to reality,” Tristan answers.

As the door handle turns, I tense, hoping it was a good idea to wait in here.

The door swings open and Massimo stops short, words, and movement gone when he sees me. Tristan wears the same expression when his gaze lands on me.

The two couldn’t look more alike. People used to think they were twins when they were kids. Now they both rivet their gaze to me, shock suffusing their faces. Shock and emotion from the deep worry they must have had for me.

Instantly, I feel more shame. They aren’t the kind of men to worry, but I gave them cause. We came as a unit. A team. Even before Andreas died, it was always us three. I don’t think either of them thought they’d have to ever worry about me because I was always there, always around, always reliable. Until I checked out.

“Hi,” I say first, swallowing hard. “I… got back last night.”

Both continue to stare at me, and I almost think coming here like this was a bad idea. But then Massimo steps forward.

He looks me over like he’s trying to figure out if I’m really here, then he makes his way over to me. Tristan hangs back.

I don’t know what I expect as I watch Massimo. He’s my eldest brother and tougher than nails. He’d sooner kick my ass from here to kingdom come for leaving before he would think of doing anything else. So, I don’t expect the hug he gives me.

“My God,” he breathes, and I feel worse. “Dominic… you’re back.”

He pulls away but keeps his gaze trained on me.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Last night?” He searches my eyes.

“Last night.”

“We… could have picked you up at the airport, or something.”

“Nah, it was fine. I got back really late.”

I look back to Tristan who hasn’t said anything, and I know of the two of them I probably hurt him the most. In the days before I left, I said some unforgivable things to him. I was high on shit and didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. No one could reason with me, and I ended up shooting the one person who tried. Candace.

Before I left, I wrote each of them a letter explaining I needed to have a break. I did that because I did need a break, but I knew it wasn’t going to be the kind of break where I would be back anytime soon.

I also knew I was having the kind of break where no one would be able to find me. That's why I asked them not to look.

After what I did to Candace, I knew Massimo would understand straightaway, although he’d look and do his best to find me. Tristan though is a little different. He’s more persistent, so I knew he wouldn’t stop looking for me until he found me even if it took him forever. I wrote him the longest letter, and I sent him the most meaningful notes while I was away. Sometimes I wouldn’t say anything. I’d send mostly origami objects, a thing that held meaning for both of us because we used to make them when we were kids.

He stares back at me now, and his eyes give him away. He’s not sure how to act. I get it. We’re raw assed gangsters who don’t hug and don’t cry.

I walk up to him and he keeps his gaze trained on me with every step I take. When we’re standing face to face, I see how much my disappearing act got to him when a lone tear tracks out the corner of his eye.

“Kid,” he rasps.

“I’m sorry, Tristan,” I say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. I know you are.” He nods and hugs me.

When we pull apart, Massimo comes closer.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

“All over, but recently I ended up in Tibet.” That was where I strengthened my mind after I got cleaned up.

“Tibet?”

I nod and they exchange glances. When they look back at me, I can almost read the question on their minds. I feel I should take the burden off the awkward task of asking.

“I went to rehab in Holland. I had to do six months, then another three when I slipped up. It was after the anniversary of Pa’s death. It hit me again that he was gone, and I had one bad night.” That was hard, and it’s harder to be so open with them, but one problem I had previously was not talking enough to people I should. “That last stint was it. I don’t wish to be that guy anymore. Tibet was about healing and getting back on my feet.”

I had alternative therapy that seemed to cement the mental strength I needed to kick the addiction for good.

“I’m proud of you,” Tristan says. “I wish we could have been there.”

“I know, but I wanted to clean up by myself. I think it was the kind of situation where I needed to be away.” I also didn’t want them to see me that way.

Getting off drugs was one of the worst experiences of my life. That first week of detox was hell, and that’s putting it mildly. It was enough to make me not want to touch the shit ever again. But what happened after were the fucking withdrawal symptoms and the depression. It was like everything I’d suppressed came back with a vengeance to fuck me over.

“Did it help?” Massimo asks.

“Yes.” I nod without hesitation. “It helped Massimo. I am truly sorry I left you guys, but I needed to go. I just hope you know I wasn’t running away from my responsibilities.”

I want to make that clear. Despite shame being the driving force that sent me away, I don’t want anyone thinking of me as a coward.

I had a responsibility to Candace, and I’m Massimo's consigliere so I had a responsibility to the family too. Traditionally, the boss of the family doesn't do anything until he's consulted his consigliere. In my drug-induced, grief-stricken, shame-filled state, I wasn't anything close to being the guy Massimo needed me to be.

“We didn’t think that,” Massimo assures me. “We were more concerned about you.”

“Thank you.” I tip my head reverently and give them both a smile of appreciation. “How are your wives and children?” I look at them both but keep my gaze on Tristan.

I missed his wedding, and I missed the births of both their kids. I was far from ready to come back at that point.

Tristan nods, and pride fills his eyes. “Good, both are good. Sometimes I can’t believe I have them.” As he speaks, pride and love brims within his eyes for his Isabella and his son, Giacomo, named after our father.

I know my brothers both have sons, but they don’t know I know.

“Me too,” Massimo adds with the same sort of look for his Emelia and his son, Lorenzo, named after our grandfather. “You’ll have to come to the house for dinner on Thursday to see them. Everyone will be there.”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I would love to continue this heartfelt reunion--God knows I probably need it--but it’s time to get down to business.

The instant I think that a look of seriousness washes over Massimo’s face.

“You… found something, didn’t you?” he asks, and Tristan looks at him.

Both tense when I nod. “I’m sorry, but it looks like trouble’s here again. The big kind this time.”