Kingpin (An Italian Mafia Romance)

by Ws Greer

  He doesn’t know who the beautiful brunette is, and it makes no difference. All that matters is that she’s someone Dominic cares about in some way. It could be a sister, or a cousin, or a girlfriend. Abram hopes it’s the last one. Love brings out the most emotion and garners the best results, so as the BMW turns into a residential area, Abram feels his heart start to speed up.

  This woman was gorgeous, and he can feel it in his stomach that this was not a family member. Abram believes the woman is Dominic’s girlfriend, and when the car pulls into a driveway and parks, Abram’s suspicions are confirmed when the two lovebirds get out and kiss each other like they haven’t seen each other in years. Abram watches them from four houses down as they caress one another, leaning against the BMW for support as they engage in a proud public display of affection.

  Not too many cousins kiss like that.

  It takes a while, but they manage to pull themselves apart, and the two of them playfully walk inside and shut the door behind them, totally unaware that they just gave Abram Baskov everything he was hoping for. He stomps on the gas and drives away, burning rubber as he speeds down the road. He knows they can hear the screech of his tires and the roar of his engine, and it makes him chuckle, because they don’t know it’s him. They don’t know what their carelessness has done.

  They don’t know Abram finally has a plan.

  Alannah

  “If you put that dress on, we might not make it to dinner.”

  I giggle as I zip up my favorite black dress and Dominic stands in the doorway grinning. He took the time to go home and change while I was at work, and he’s a tall glass of water to a woman dying of thirst as he stands with his hands in the pockets, wearing a navy blue suit with sky blue pinstripes. He dresses like he has a tailor living in his closet at River City, so I had to break out my favorite dress just to keep up.

  “Hey, I thought the same thing when you picked me up wearing that suit,” I respond. “So, you started it.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re one of those people?”

  “What? What people?”

  “A one-upper.”

  “I am not,” I snip, as we laugh together. “There’s just going to be a lot of girls checking you out, so I have to step my game up so they know you’re with me.”

  “Okay, I get it now. Trying to protect what’s yours?”

  I fight back a smile and glare at him, because it sounds so good to hear him say he’s mine. He’s right, but I won’t tell him that.

  “So, I think I’m ready. You?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Am I ready? Fuhgeddaboutit.”

  The bright city lights of St. Louis shine into the car and help to keep a continuous smile on my face. The speed at which all of this has happened is crazy, and it’s a bit surreal to be driving on the highway in St. Louis with Dominic in the driver’s seat. It’s all so much different than the cold of Alaska, where it’s either bright most of the day or dark most of the day, depending on the time of year. I’m here with him, instead of there with my parents and my friends of the past decade. It’s a drastic change, yet I don’t feel out of place or afraid like I expected. I guess that’s because being with Dominic makes me feel so comfortable, plus I lived in this city a while, so it’s not completely foreign to me. Nonetheless, it’s a trip being here with all of this going on, but my excitement-to-worried ratio is two-to-one. I feel like there’s a great adventure ahead of me, but I’m going through it with Dominic, and it’s all okay. I’m okay.

  We decided on Red Lobster this time, and we made sure to not make reservations. The last thing I could handle is another Isle of Capri situation. So, we park and walk into the restaurant hand in hand like a real couple ready for the long haul of commitment.

  To be honest, at this point in time, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Dominic and I are together, but there’s a lot of other stuff that’s going on under the surface. I haven’t forgotten that he’s in the mafia, or that he has a checkered past that probably includes hurting people in the name of “family business.” I also haven’t forgotten that he has ongoing drama with the guy from Lumiere Place—the one he thinks sent the guy to shoot him. I know things aren’t picture perfect with him, so if you’re wondering how I’m holding his hand as we walk, I don’t have an answer that even I understand. The only thing I do understand is that I want to be with him, and how I feel about the other stuff is the same as I felt about it when we were kids. Dominic treats me the way every woman wants to be treated by the guy she’s with, so that’s what I’m trying to focus on. I know I have to figure out if I can accept the other stuff, but right now I’m just enjoying being with him. I’m enjoying reliving the part of my life I’ve always cherished most, and it feels too good to just throw it out. I don’t know how to explain it in a way other people would understand, so I’m not looking for an explanation. Instead, I’m hanging on to what I realized when he showed up to my house yesterday; Dominic is the love of my life, and there’s nothing more powerful than knowing that’s true.

  Once we’re inside, we’re taken to our seats immediately. It’s hard not to think about the last time we had dinner, but we both do a good job of acting like it’s not in the back of our minds.

  Our waiter, a tall guy with a super-thick mustache, takes our orders and we’re left alone. I sip my wine and take a second to soak Dominic in. He has grown up to be so incredibly hot that I’m still surprised by it. Who would’ve known that the lips everyone used to make fun of him for would end up being his best feature. It took a little time, but he grew into everything with absolute perfection.

  “What’s up?” he says when he sees me staring at him.

  “How’d you get so hot?” I ask with a giggle.

  “Look who’s talking,” he replies, and we share another laugh.

  “No, really, Dominic. You’re twenty-five years old, you make a ton of money, and you’re gorgeous. So, I really want to know how you got to this point without at least a long-term girlfriend. Any other guy who has what you have would be taking advantage as often as possible.”

  He lets out a sigh and sinks into his chair, making himself comfortable.

  “Well, growing up, my concern was never about getting girls,” he begins. “When I was a kid, everybody made fun of me, especially girls. I’m sure you remember that. So, as a result, I guess I decided I wouldn’t give anybody that kind of attention. At least until I met you. You’re the first girl I ever had a crush on, and that kinda stuck after you left. Not to mention, I’ve had some crazy experiences with women in the past, let me tell you.”

  “Ooh, please do. I love stories about crazy women!”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got a few. I knew this one girl who told me she was pregnant with my baby three days after we met.”

  I burst out laughing. I even manage to draw the attention of the table next to us.

  “Are you serious? How’d she try to explain that one?”

  “She didn’t,” he continues after a sip of his champagne. “She found out I owned casinos and the next thing I knew, she showed up with a positive pregnancy test. She brought it with her when we went out on a date. Pulled the stick right out of her pocket at the dinner table and told me how happy she was that we were pregnant.”

  “Oh my god! That’s crazy and gross at the same time,” I exclaim while laughing like a kid with a sugar high. “So, then what’d you do?”

  “I laughed a little, then I got up and left her crazy ass at the table alone.”

  “Wow. That’s a good one right there.”

  “I had a girl lick my face one time,” he continues.

  “What the hell?”

  “Yep. I made the mistake of going to a nightclub with this one chick. We’re on the dancefloor doing our thing—I hate dancing, by the way—and the next thing I know, she leans in and licks my fucking cheek like it has tartar sauce on it or something. It was our first and last date.”

  I laugh so hard it starts to make my stomach hurt. I ima
gine this woman pausing her dance routine so she can stand on her tippy-toes to lick Dominic’s face, and it just splits my side. The neighboring table looks at me again, but I couldn’t care less.

  “Don’t laugh too hard,” Dominic says, still chuckling himself. “I’m sure you’ve had some crazy stuff happen to you, too. We’re both twenty-five and unmarried, remember?”

  “Oh, I know,” I reply as the waiter brings my steak and delivers Dominic’s giant seafood platter. “I didn’t have the best luck with guys when I was in Alaska, which is why it was so easy to leave.”

  “Alright, so let’s hear it.”

  “Okay,” I begin. “Well, I don’t know how much you’d want to hear about this, but it’s pretty weird and funny. I knew this one guy who refused to have sex with me unless I used a vaginal foam.”

  Dominic nearly spits out the wine he just sipped.

  “What the fuck is vaginal foam?”

  “It’s a foam that has spermicide in it, and he refused to have sex unless he had a condom and I had the foam. He was really worried about having kids.”

  “Aw, fuck. Well, that’s new. Did you do it?”

  “I hate to admit it, but I did try it once. It was horrible, and I still feel gross about it. In fact, I think I need a shower right now.”

  “I can’t believe that one,” Dominic says between bites of fried shrimp. “Spermicidal vaginal foam. So, so sexy.”

  “Right? Ooh, I’ve got another one. Wanna hear it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, so I’m on a first date with this guy from work. We’re in a nice, quiet restaurant, and everything’s going okay for the first fifteen minutes or so, and then he gets a phone call. He answers, and after about ten seconds of silence, he starts screaming into the phone. When I say screaming, I mean veins popping out of his neck. He keeps yelling, ‘Stop calling me! Stop calling me, goddammit.’ So, I’m thinking he’s talking to an ex or something, and I’m already telling myself I’ll never go on another date with this crazy screamer ever again. Well, he’s not finished yet. The next thing I know, he goes, ‘If you call me again, I’m gonna get a fucking restraining order on you like I did before. Do you understand me? Do you want another restraining order on you? No? Then stop calling me while I’m out on my date. I’ll be home when I get home. Stop being in my business and just go to bed, Mom.’”

  I laugh as I finish the story, and Dominic nearly falls out of his seat with laughter, too.

  “Holy fucking shit! He was talking to his mother?”

  “Yep, and that’s when I got up and left. And as I’m walking away, I hear him say into the phone, ‘Great. I just lost another date because of you.’”

  The two of us laugh together like we’re kids all over again. That’s what it all feels like—like we’re right back in junior high and high school, having a great time, being absolute best friends while the rest of the world watches us. It’s like that ten year gap never existed, and my heart feels complete in this moment. It could be like this every day. It could be like this for the rest of our lives.

  We finish our meals and I order dessert—just a little slice of cheesecake that I share with Dominic. As we finish it up, I reach across the table and place my hand on top of his.

  “Thanks for bringing me out tonight,” I say. “This was great. I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

  “I know, me either,” he admits.

  We lock eyes, and I think to tell him something that I haven’t told him since we were fifteen, but before I can get the words to form, our eye contact is interrupted by his phone ringing. He looks frustrated as he apologizes and answers it at the table.

  “It’s not my mom, so there won’t be any yelling,” he kids before listening in to the call.

  As soon as he puts the phone to his ear, I know something’s wrong. I don’t know who it is or what they’re saying, but I know it’s bothering Dominic. It’s not making him mad, though. From the looks of it, he’s scared, which terrifies me much more than his anger would’ve.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he says into the phone. “Is he alive?”

  I feel a strong chill run down my spine. Here it is—the other side of this beautiful thing we have. The ugly side I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see.

  “Son of a fucking bitch,” Dominic says as his head lowers like a child being scolded. “I’m on my way.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask as soon as he puts the phone on the table.

  Dominic runs both of his hands over his face, steadying himself as the information he just received sinks in.

  “Dominic, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” I ask again.

  “One of my guys got shot,” he says. I watch as his eyes begin to water and he fights back the tears. “My three closest friends were walking into a bar, and a truck drove by and started shooting. My friend, Tommy, was hit in the back twice. He’s in the hospital. I have to go, I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I assure him. “Do what you’ve got to do. Go see your friend. I can take a cab home.”

  “It’s okay, just come with me.”

  I immediately start to think about what kind of characters might be at the hospital, and instantly know I don’t want to be there. I’m definitely not ready to meet anymore gangsters.

  “No, it’s okay,” I say. “This is your thing, and I’d just rather go home.”

  “Well, at least let me take you,” he pleads, but I want to be supportive. I want him to know I understand he has friends that I don’t know. Friends he’s known a long time, and I can tell from the tears in his eyes that this is serious.

  “I’m fine, Dominic,” I insist. “Go check on your friend, I’m gonna take a cab home. Just let me know what’s going on as soon as you can, okay?”

  He’s reluctant, but he nods his head. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and places some on the table to pay for dinner, and then hands some to me.

  “This is for the cab,” he says as he stands up. “I’m so sorry about this. I’m gonna call you as soon as I know he’s okay, then I’m gonna meet you at your house when I’m free. Is that okay?”

  I force a smile.

  “That’s perfect. Okay, now go.”

  He leans over and kisses me softly on the lips, then he hurries out of the restaurant.

  I wait for the waiter to acknowledge the money for the check and the tip, then I get up and make my way outside. I flag down a cab within a minute, and as I ride home, I feel frustratingly anxious. I hate this part of it—the wondering if he’s going to be okay or not. I hate trying to figure out if this is something mafia related, or if there are going to be more consequences for it. That’s two shootings in two days, yet Dominic insists this isn’t how his life usually is. Is it usually rainbows and butterflies? I highly doubt it.

  So, when the cab pulls up to my apartment, I’m filled with anxiety and confusion. All I can do is go inside and wait to hear from him. With my nerves being on high alert like this, and my brain drawing its own scary conclusions, I hope I don’t have to wait long. I don’t think I can take much else.

  Dominic

  “Where is he? I wanna see him.”

  I run over to a group of people sitting in the waiting area of Mercy Hospital. My crew is there, as well as all the other capos in The Family, plus Tommy’s fiancé, who’s being consoled by Skinny Joe. Charlie sees me coming and cuts me off before I can force my way through doors I’m not supposed to go through.

  “Hold on, Dominic,” Charlie pleads. His eyes are red like he’s been crying all night long, and he has blood on his shirt from when he sat with Tommy waiting for the ambulance. “He’s in surgery right now. The doc is trying to get the bullets out.”

  I feel tears rushing to the surface, so I cover my face so no one can see me. Charlie knows it’s coming though, so he grabs me and forces me to hug him.

  “He’s gonna be okay,” he tries to reassure me, but he doesn’t sound so confident himsel
f.

  “Fuck! How the fuck did this happen, Charlie?” I cry into his shoulder. Charlie pulls away and looks me in the eye.

  “It all happened so fast, Dominic, I can barely believe it all,” he begins, wiping away his tears. “Me, Joe, and Tommy were walking to that little bar across the street from River City. We’d just crossed the road, and this black truck pulls out of the staff parking lot. We don’t think nothing of it, of course, until we reach the sidewalk and the truck slows down behind us. It’s back there creeping, so I turn around to see what the hell this guy’s doing, but the windows are tinted so I can’t see him. So, I grab Tommy’s attention and tell him to check it out, and as soon as Tommy starts to turn around, the window lowers and a hand comes out blasting away. There’s nothing we can do except run for cover, but Tommy gets hit and drops. As soon as Tommy hits the ground, the truck fucking speeds away.”

  “Goddammit!”

  “I don’t know, Dominic, the shit looked real fishy to me. It was like the guy in the truck was making sure we were who he was looking for before he started shooting. He was back there watching us as we walked. This wasn’t no random shooting, Dominic, I’m telling you. I fucking know it.”

  My first thought is Abram Baskov. We don’t have beef with anybody else, so it had to have been him. He must’ve recognized Tommy from the sit down and thought he had to get him before Tommy came looking for him to avenge me, because Abram thinks I’m dead, thanks to Anthony. This motherfucker has more balls than I thought. This is what I get for underestimating him.

  “Fuck,” I think aloud. “I bet it was that Russian cock sucker. I know it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what me and Skinny were thinking. So, when do we go get this motherfucker, Dominic? First he puts a hit out on you, then he gets Tommy. This fucker has to die, now!”

  “I know, and we’re gonna fucking get him,” I tell him, but I pause a second. “But we’re gonna wait until we here from Tommy’s doctor first.”

  “Why the fuck would we do that?” Skinny Joe says as he approaches. His thin face is scrunched into an emotional, tear-filled expression. He looks like he’s on the verge of a full-on mental collapse. “This bitch shot at you, and then he actually shot Tommy. This is Tommy we’re talking about. Fucking Tommy! We go and kill this motherfucker right now!”