Wicked Liar by Faith Summers

Chapter Forty

Dominic

I take the corner sharply on my motorcycle and speed up like I'm racing against time.

Today was a difficult day. It's Monday, the start of the fourth week of being home, and I've had a lifetime of events happen to me.

I had my first Syndicate meeting this morning, and after that, I spoke to my brothers about Candace.

I didn't want to tell them anything, but she wanted them to know. I guess it means some part of her has healed in some way, to allow her to share her dark secrets.

As for them, I don't know which looked worse on hearing what happened to her. I think Andreas would look the same if he were still alive and heard too. We've always been very protective of her. Hearing we couldn't protect her from her uncle makes us all feel like we failed in some way.

She knows I'll search every corner of the earth to find him, and she knows what will follow next is his death. Rest assured I will end him and it won't matter how long it takes me to find him. His days are numbered.

My phone rings as I park my bike. I pull it from my pocket and my brows furrow when I look at the screen and see the number's unrecognized. I don't like these types of calls. They're never good, and never from anybody good either.

What I hate more than anything is they compel and give the person calling leverage over a guy like me because I have to answer to find out who it is.

I tap the screen to answer and place the phone to my ear.

"Yes," I say.

"Dominic D'Agostino," the voice replies. It's no one I recognize.

"Who is this?"

"Somebody you'll be interested to speak to."

My interest piques, and my curiosity heightens. "I don't know who the fuck this is, but I don't like playing games, and I don't have time for shit. So talk."

"I have answers to your questions, but it's going to cost you."

I laugh off key and don't hide the sarcasm in my laughter. "Who the fuck is this? I have to give you credit for calling me and trying to get money straight up."

"Mr. D'Agostino, this is Peter Dawson." The second he says that my chest tightens and I plant my feet into the hard flooring of my garage. "I heard you've been looking for me."

Instantly, I remember the guy from the alleyway in Harmsworth, the girl too. I figured she sent him to take a look at us.

"I have been."

"Great. So if you want to see me, it's going to cost you. I want half a million dollars for the information I have."

"You want me to pay half a million and I don't know what I'm paying for?"

"If you want to know what Kazimir and his friends from the Order are up to, you'll cough it up," he states, hooking my attention all the more. "I think you'll find the price is right and cheap for information on the King, but when you see me, you'll know why I didn't ask for more. Come to my house at midday tomorrow. I don't want the entire Syndicate there. Just you, your brothers, and the Russian. Do we have a deal?"

After hearing that, I have one answer for him.

"We have a deal."

* * *

We pull up outside an odd-looking cottage with green moss covering the entire left side. A vast expanse of land surrounds it, and a barn with a few Arabian horses sits near the lake.

We’re just outside San Diego. This is where Peter lives.

I'm with my brothers and Aiden, exactly as requested by Peter. It's a few minutes before noon and I have to admit nerves are getting the better of me.

I just hope Peter truly has the answers we seek, and he's not fucking around with us.

A man comes out of the house who looks like he belongs in a Bond film as one of the villains. He’s tall with a bald head and wears full black. That’s not our guy. This is someone else.

Massimo walks ahead of us but we stop just before we get to the porch when the man holds up his hand.

“My cousin doesn’t want any trouble. I can’t let you go in with your guns,” the man states and Massimo smiles.

In an act of defiance and a statement of power, Massimo walks right into the man's personal space, looks him up and down, and instead of answering he continues into the house ignoring the request. I’m used to my brother doing things like that and I would do the same. Truth be told, I would have probably given a mouth full first then ignore his ass.

Idiot.

We all walk past him and into the house.

It’s big inside. Bigger than it looks on the outside, and there's a strong incense smell about the place that burns my nose.

We follow Massimo. Ahead of him is a hall. When we walk in, we see a man in a wheelchair by a large painting. The man has his back turned to us.

When he spins his chair around, I wince at the sight of him.

He’s got no eyes. His lids have been sewn together, and the whole left side of his face has been burned. He also only has one leg and one arm.

What I’m looking at is someone who's been tortured and set free as an example.

That's Peter Dawson. What little remains of his face resembles pictures I've found of him.

I can see what he meant when he said I'd know why he didn't ask for more money. It's because he can't enjoy it.

“That’s far enough,” he says, and we stop where we are.

“If it's all the same to you, can we take this into the living room?” Peter asks and Massimo nods.

We go into the living room next door where we sit on a large leather sofa and Peter places himself in front of us.

“Did you bring payment, Boss?” he asks, looking right at Massimo. I wonder how the hell he knows he’s the boss.

“You’ll get paid when you provide a service. You haven’t offered me shit yet,” Massimo replies.

“I suppose I haven’t, Boss.”

“How do you know who I am? The boss could be any of us.”

“But it’s not, is it Massimo D’Agostino?” He looks over to Aiden and nods. “Him. The Russian, he’s a boss. There's an air of authority in your presence. So the other two must be your brothers.”

“That’s very impressive,” Tristan states, but he’s not saying it like it’s a compliment.

“Relax, I wasn’t being offensive.” Peter chuckles. “When you’re like me, you’re other senses are all you have left. I pick up on certain things. Like you and you are leaders, and you and you support the leader.” He points to us respectively.

"Yes," I speak up. "If it's all the same to you, could we cut the shit and get to the point of why we're here."

"Yes, Dominic D'Agostino." Peter smiles at me and it's an eerie sight. "Okay, so I heard you were looking for me. I knew this day would come after Alfonse died. I was just waiting."

"So you expected this?" Massimo challenges.

"In a way. I knew you could only be looking for me if you found something from Alfonse's files, and the streets are talking. They just aren't talking to you. Obviously." He laughs.

"How do we know you'll tell us what we need to know?"

"You don't. You just have to trust me."

"That's a hard one for me."

"Then you just have to take a risk."

It's all about risk in the end because no one is truly trustworthy.

"How do you get your information?" I ask, hoping he'll provide a better answer than simply taking a risk.

"I have my ways. I'm a guy who likes to keep his enemies close. I made it my mission when they did this to me. Come on, look at me, they fucked me up. Do you think I'm going to screw with you so you can finish me off?"

I stare at his face. His nightmare face with his eyes sewn shut like a corpse. My answer is no, I don't think this guy will mess around with us.

"No."

"Good."

"Apart from the money, what's in it for you?"

"Revenge. Now that's settled let's begin." There's a twitch in his jaw that's a tell I've struck a nerve. "Your problems began when your father lost everything and moved to Stormy Creek. The loss of employment made Alfonse look for other work. It started with Mortimer Viggo. Mortimer saw him as a man who might be useful to him one day, and he was. Then from there Alfonse met and worked for many others. More importantly, he was the hook up if you needed a job that could pay you quick, serious money. That's how he attracted men like me and men like Lucas Ricci."

I tense up when I hear that name. "Lucas Ricci?"

"Yes. He became the equivalent to Alfonse when he got more work. That bastard even surpassed him in the end when he took his place at the right hand of the devil. Alfonse was the guy who made connections, but Lucas was the enabler. He got desperate people who were willing to do anything to get themselves out of their desperate situations. Including his own brother. In my day there were heavily into human trafficking and prostitution. We all worked in different capacities under Tobias and Federico, but realistically we all worked for Richard Fenmoir. The king."

As my mouth falls open, Peter looks at me, and his smile widens.

"Holy fuck," I breathe out.

"Yes. Was your trip worth it yet?"

More than he would fucking know.

"Richard Fenmoir is the king?" Massimo asks.

"Yes. But it's a made-up name, just like the king is. These people are all secret in everything they do, but rest assured he's one powerful son of a bitch. I knew who I worked for but as to who he really was, no. I never saw his face and if I did, I wouldn't know it was him. That information was above my paygrade. Who would be able to tell you, though, is Lucas Ricci. He and Tobias took direct orders from the King."

Massimo and I exchange glances.

"Where can we find him?" I demand.

"I'll give you an address, but it will cost you." Peter laughs louder.

"Name your fucking price."

"Alright, Mr. D'Agostino I certainly will. And, because you've been such a good sport, I'll throw in something for free. The King is going for code ten again. Keep what you kill. That's what this is all about. He doesn't just want you dead, or you'd all be dead already. He literally wants to enact the original plan so the last man standing gets all the wealth, and shares it with the rest of the group."

"That's impossible." Massimo balls his fists. "How the fuck would they do that? Someone in the Syndicate would have to be playing sides again."

The answer hits me like a lightning bolt, and rage fills me. I look to Aiden this time because I know he has the answer too. When he nods, I know he does.

"Or, maybe the person is putting on an act so they could get initiated." I clench my jaw so hard it feels like a spring wound with tension.

Massimo looks at me, and Peter starts laughing. I have a feeling this fucker knows even more than he's saying. He sees a lot, even though he has no eyes.

"Jacques," I clarify. "He's the pawn. The rat that's so clean we thought he'd be an asset. The piece of the puzzle fits. He's the something new that's made them act now." I don't have to say anymore. We're all on the same page of the book.

Massimo said it all himself that day I first met Jacques. He said Jacques was the first person in a while that he's considered joining us. They were waiting for this chance. Once Jacques is initiated, he'd have the same rights as everybody else and if they died, he'd get everything.

Jacques is a fucking spy.

I hate being right. He wasn't who he said he was.