The Italian Dom by N.J. Adel

CHAPTER 41

Nicky

 

“I know I owe you an apology, but don’t push it, Angel,” I said over the phone, heading down for the basement. It was very late, and I couldn’t sleep, especially when Dom wasn’t in bed. So I went looking for him, calling my sister on the way because it was the only time I could get a hold of her due to the time difference.

I did owe her and myself an apology. I was sorry for not seeing beyond black and white, for stereotyping Dom, for not opening my mind and my heart when I should have, for putting my sister through a lot of trouble because of my stubbornness and pride, for wasting my time in denial, prejudice and loathing, dwelling in the past instead of living my life, for hating Dom before I truly saw him.

He always said I gave myself to him when I gave him my real tears, when I showed him my pain and how deep it hurt instead of hiding it. And he was right. Knowing our damage never really left us, Dom had owned my destruction before my salvation. The scars could be concealed, but underneath the surface the roots of our darkness, sickness and ruin ran too deep. They wouldn’t die or even wilt no matter how fucking hard we tried.

He’d broken me in the best way ever. Shattered me to pieces only to put me back together. He did swallow me whole but only to fill the void with his pieces that fit perfectly with me.

My sister, Dom and even Tino were right. My husband and I were meant for each other, and we were the only people who could heal each other and make each other happy.

My sister laughed over Nick’s crying symphony. “Oh, I’ll push it so hard. And when your honeymoon is over, and you come visit, I’ll say I told you fucking so to your face countless times.”

“Well, I’ll fucking take it, but just because I really miss you and Nick and can’t wait for the Leo situation to be over so I could see you again.”

“We miss you, too, Sis. You still haven’t answered me, though, and no, I won’t give it up. Please tell me the happiness you feel now has made you forgive Tino or, at least, stop hating him?”

That was a question I saw in Dom’s eyes, too. The hatred that owned me before and controlled me so hard he wanted me to channel it through him. He didn’t care if I gave him all my hate instead of the love and understanding he was looking for as long as he rid me of the power my hate for Tino had over me.

But how could I stop hating the man who threatened to kill me, let alone forgive him? The man who used everything and everyone to do what was best for him and only him?

I might have understood my sister’s love for him, but his love for her… That was beyond my comprehension and tolerance. Tino was a sick man. Period. He wasn’t altered by trauma or suffering like Dom. He was born that way. Pure evil. It was hard for me to believe a monster like him was even capable of love.

But he loved you and Lina enough to kill for you, to save you.

No. He killed our father because he was obsessed with Lina, because he wanted her for himself. It was purely selfish. I’d bet anything if Frank Baldi had already raped Lina, Tino wouldn’t have lifted a hand and would have found another virgin object—because that was what we were to him, objects—to obsess with and have all to himself.

Then why did he save you, too? Why did he wait for your sister to grow up? He’s a sick monster. He could have just killed you, too, and took Lina. Why did he give you shelter and the best education in the country? Why did he take a fucking bullet for your sister? Why couldn’t he kill his own son when he should have?

“Nicky, you still there?” Lina asked, yanking me out of my spiraling.

“Yeah. I just…” Maybe it was time I let go of Tino Bellomo, too, and saw beyond the black and white. Maybe I—

A distant, muffled sound came from the basement. What the fuck. “Hold on a sec.”

I tiptoed down the last step to the basement and turned toward the blue room. It was the only room down here apart from the laundry room—which would be empty that late at night—and an unused storage I was going to clear and extend outside to become a greenhouse.

Bang! Bang! Groan!

I flinched as I approached the thick door, assuming the worst. Could Dom be here? With someone else?

“You okay, Sis? You’re panting,” Lina said.

I stood frozen by the door, not knowing how I could prepare myself for that kind of pain.

“Dom wouldn’t do this to me, right?”

“What? What wouldn’t he do?”

Cheat on me. It wouldn’t make any sense. Not after what I’d given him. But what if all I had to give wasn’t enough? What if he was in there with a man because his uncle put a need in him so deep no matter what I did I couldn’t satisfy?

“Nicky, please tell me what’s going on? Are you okay?”

I leapt out of my freezing and banged the door. “Open up.”

When he didn’t, I pasted my ear on the door and listened.

“For God’s sake, Nicky, answer me. Is there someone in the house?” Lina panicked.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I flinched again. This time because the sound wasn’t coming from the blue room.

“Nicky!”

“I…I’m here. There’s a weird noise in the basement.” I spun and inspected the area, listening for the source. Then I entered the laundry room, which was empty. “It seems to be coming from the walls.”

“The walls? You mean like pipes?”

I went back to the blue room and headed down the hall where the storage was. The only place I hadn’t checked yet. “I don’t think so.”

“Where is Dom?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Nicky, listen to me. Get out of there. Don’t do any more checking on your own and go find the guards.”

The seriousness of the fear in her voice triggered mine. My hand froze on the storage door handle, my breath and heartbeat rapid. “Okay. Maybe I should call Dom, too.”

“Okay, but call me back right away, and go find those guards.”

I hung up, cold sweat trickling down my temples. I tapped Dom’s number on the screen as I moved away from the storage door.

Groan!

That was louder than any of the previous, and it was a man’s groan. There was no doubt about it. Panic ran through me as I backed down, willing Dom to answer, but all I got was a ringing…and the far away ringtone of his phone muffled through the fucking walls.

“What the fuck?” Throwing all caution aside, I barged into the storage.

I switched on the lights and scanned the room. “Dom?” I made my way through the old furniture, gardening tools and boxes crammed inside, leaving the call going, following the chiming sound.

“Dom?!” I repeated, but it was obvious this room was empty, too. “Where the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing?”

I kept following the ringtone that became more than a muffled sound when I reached the back wall. I stared at it, my heart thrumming in my chest, and then I pressed my ear to it.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped. I glared at my phone, my finger ready to redial. The phone blared at me instead. “Jesus Christ!” Lina was calling again.

I ignored the call and tapped Dom’s number again. The ringtone came back as if from underwater, through the same fucking wall, but I heard it loud and clear. How the fuck was it coming from here?

I don’t mix business with pleasure. I have another room for that.

Fuck. Squinting at the mystery wall, I turned on the flashlight on my phone and pointed it at the ceiling and then the corners, testing what might be a crazy assumption; what if Dom, like he built the blue room, like Tino had the ceiling escape, did have a secret room built in for his red trips, too? That would explain the groans.

What if he had a man in there now, and he was too busy torturing him to answer his phone? Did I even want to know the answer to that question? Was I brave enough to go ahead and find out?

My stomach felt like ice. It was one thing to know what he did for a living, but seeing it for myself, happening right in front of me, was something else entirely. Something that could change the way I saw him forever.

Fuck, this was way worse than catching him having sex with someone else, so heart gutting that I kind of hoped he was just having it rough with some guy. God.

I should just listen to my sister’s advice and get out of here. I lowered the phone, the flashlight illuminating the floor. That was when I fucking saw it. The door to the secret room. It was on the floor, not buried covertly in the wall.

I didn’t need to see that.

My eyes darted between the storage door and the secret hatch, my heart begging me to just get out of here.

Bang!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Another thought attacked me. What if Dom was the man groaning and banging that wall? What if an intruder was really in the villa and he got Dom?

“Oh my God.” I ran to the hatch without thinking. I tried to open it with all my strength, but it must have been locked from inside. I dashed to the old gardening tools and picked a shovel. Then I smashed the hardwood floor as hard as I could.

Once I’d made a hole big enough, I dangled my body down the hatchway, phone in my mouth to light the way, shovel in hand, my feet finding a navy ladder, grateful for all the hours I’d spent in the gym. Quickly, I climbed down and reached a dark, narrow hall that led to nothing but another ladder on the other side.

I climbed that one up, too, trying to call Dom again, but there was no reception down here. When I reached the top of the stairs, I followed the only path that was there.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Fuck. I jumped, stopping midway, another ominous door looming at the end of what felt like a fucking catacomb. I took a deep breath, my chest tight with fear and the stiff air in here. Phone in my mouth again, I held the shovel with both hands like a weapon and dragged my feet toward the door, eyes pinned to the padlock on it.

According to my calculations, whatever that door opened to, it was located right between the blue room and the storage. That explained why the sounds seemed to be coming from the walls. Dom took extreme measures to hide that room, though. I wondered how an intruder would get him trapped in there. It had to be someone who knew that room existed in the first place.

My assumption was incorrect. Dom couldn’t be trapped in here. Assuming the people who worked here knew about this room, they were all his people. There was no one in this house that would hold Domenico Lanza captive. Fuck, I should have minded my own business and left.

I shoved the phone halfway in my pocket, keeping the light, and wheeled back, my mind running in circles. Part of me was convinced I was making the right decision by going back to my bedroom. Another part was telling me to check anyway, just to make fucking sure.

This was the Mafia. Betrayals happened all the time. You’d hate yourself forever if you had a chance to save your husband and didn’t.

My fists squeezed around the shovel as I glanced back at the door over my shoulder. “FUCK ME!”

“Hello?”

I gasped at the stifled voice coming from the other side of the door. It wasn’t Dom’s, but it was so fucking familiar.

I stared at the door for what seemed like forever, frozen in place, my heart echoing.

“Nicole, is that you?”

Oh my God. Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck.

I didn’t know why I did such a stupid thing, but I had to see it for myself. See if it was really him inside. With all my strength I hit the padlock with the shovel. Once, twice, three times, four times until it fucking cracked.

Eyes wide, lips parted gasping for air, I pushed the door open and stepped in. “Oh my God. Oh my God, it is you!”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”