Dominic: The Prince

by Mj Fields

  I looked down at the empty hot dog wrapper wanting more. Those hot dogs were addictive. I spotted another vendor, and yes, I grabbed another. I ate this one slower. Savored it. It was so good.

  Half a block from my building, I realized as much as I loved those hot dogs, they did not love me. My stomach didn’t love either of us. My stomach knotted up as I walked to the door and was greeted by Franco.

  “Are you alright, ma’am?”

  I felt cold and then began sweating. My mouth went dry and my stomach lurched as I covered my mouth. Franco grabbed a trashcan, thrusting it in front of me just in time for me to throw up.

  After three good heaves, I leaned against the wall with the can in my hands.

  “Sit, ma’am,” he said, as he placed a chair beside me.

  I must have dry heaved for a good ten minutes before I tried to stand.

  “Ma’am, sit.”

  “I am so sorry about this. I’ll clean up the trashcan, I promise. I didn’t mean--”

  “Oh, my God, Laney, are you pregnant?”

  I looked up toward the unfamiliar female voice, and immediately, my stomach lurched again.

  She was by my side pulling my hair back away from my face as I threw up again.

  “It’s alright,” she said soothingly. “Everything will be fine. This is exactly what he needs.”

  I wiped my mouth and looked away.

  “I’m not pregnant.”

  “You may be, though.” She smiled an insanely happy, bright, white smile. “I’m--”

  “Valentina,” I sighed.

  “In the flesh.”

  I was so confused. I looked up at Franco, for some reason, I expected him to hold some answers to the questions flooding my brain.

  “My bodyguard, our bodyguard,” Valentina answered. “Franco, could you please do something with this can?”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  When he left, she pulled a bottle of water out of her ridiculously expensive looking, Italian leather bag and handed it to me.

  “I bet you have a million questions. I am pretty sure I can answer at least half of them. Dominic said I wasn’t to introduce myself. I was to blend in.”

  It made me laugh, “You? Blend?”

  “Hey,” she smiled, “I’ve blended for almost two weeks, even though I wanted to knock on your door, and bring you a housewarming gift the day you moved in. I actually posted pictures of my new home on Instagram, hoping when you accepted my request you’d put two and two together. However, he called and said, ‘Valentina you promised me’ in that way that made me feel guilty. I mean he was my only family for, well since even before the accident. The only reason I am somewhat normal…”

  She continued singing his praises, and I knew that she was trying to sell him to me. In her eyes, I could tell everything she said about her brother was true. He took care of her. Loved her. Adored her.

  When tears spilled out of my eyes, she stopped, “I’m sorry, Laney. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t feel well. Thank you. It was nice to meet you.” I stood and walked toward the elevator.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “That’s not true. I won’t take no for an answer, it’s not in my blood,” she said, as she pulled the door on the elevator shut behind us.

  She didn’t say anymore, except she was going to stay and make sure I woke up okay.

  I brushed my teeth, washed my face, changed out of my clothes, and into pajamas. I couldn’t ask her to leave. It was more than obvious that she or Dominic were the new owners of this building.

  Even though a million questions and emotions were running rampant through my head, I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep at six thirty, on a Thursday evening.

  It still blew my mind that we, together as a family, pulled this off in a week. Abe was able to give DeLuca Italy, access to five of Steel USA’s accounts, giving access to DeLuca to put money from the sale of drugs and prostitutes into Steel USA. Then, within twenty-four hours, it was sent from Steel USA’s account to Italy and on to the account in the name of Angelina Santario, Jules daughter, one of Benito’s fake business fronts, and to top it off, money was also paid to Efisto himself. The exact amount that went in, came out. Six separate transactions went in; the very day we leaked the info to the men who had been hired when Benito took over his father’s position as CEO of Deluca.

  The beauty in this was, Benito and Efisto owned a few properties and clubs together. At the same time the club was raided in the US, Italian authorities were making arrests in Italy.

  When I left Laney sleeping in bed, I went to the police station to look at the man who had taken my rightful position in my family’s business. The man who consistently made my sister and I feel like we were dirt, compared to Grandma Isabella’s husband, Anthony Deluca’s golden boy, Benito DeLuca.

  “You look good in orange.”

  “You fuck my wife, and then fuck me?”

  “Well, you know, I figured an even exchange for the fucking you tried to give my fourteen-year-old sister, and the fucking you gave us when she wouldn’t put out to an insignificant, little piece of shit, bottom dweller like you, Benito.”

  “It won’t stick, you can’t prove anything.”

  “Do you think American authorities make it a habit of arresting innocent Italian businessmen?”

  “My lawyers will tear you apart.”

  “I hope you’ve stashed enough money to pay for your own lawyer. DeLuca will not be funding you anymore. As a matter-of-fact, DeLuca will not be funding anyone. You enjoy your next six to ten years in prison. I hear they serve gourmet food and all the ass you want.”

  “You will pay,” he hissed.

  “No motherfucker, I paid, in advance, for the hell I am gonna cause you.”

  “When I get out--”

  “You’ll be serving more time in Italy.”

  I went to visit Sabato, too. He was not in an orange jumpsuit. “You okay?”

  “I shot the --”

  “Shh, don’t say a fucking word.”

  “He alive?” He asked, looking at the floor.

  “Yes. But not good.”

  “I hope he rots.”

  “You can’t say things like that, not here.”

  “He tried to kill me. I turned the gun. They have nothing. They saw everything.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I refused when asked questions. They were treating me like a criminal because of my club. I told them to piss off, then told them I wish he would die.”

  “Jesus, Sabato.”

  “No. Jesus forgives, Dominic, I do not.”

  ***

  I received her text after I left the jail. I had given my word I would not contact her, unless she needed me. She needed me to tell her my flight was fine, that I was okay. She needed that because she cared.

  The first day back in Italy, I went to Prato, headquarters: Benito’s pride and joy. The building was a twenty-four story glass structure that stuck out like a sore thumb in the historical place of beauty. Worse than the building, was the name, DeLuca Inc., on top of it.

  I walked through the doors with Rossi, the family lawyer, who Grandmother Isabella trusted. Papers had been drawn up and severance packages that were too damn generous, as far as I was concerned, were ready to be delivered.

  Benito’s right hand men were in the conference room, waiting for what they thought was a conference call from him. When Rossi and I entered, the confusion in their eyes was priceless.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to contain the sarcasm in my voice. “I understand you are all under the impression that Benito is going to lead this meeting from the US. However, that’s not going to happen, not ever again. Mr. Rossi is handing out an explanation of what is happening here. Please sign, saying you’ve been informed.”

  ‘What, excuse me, what is going on?’ The questions swarmed around me and I held my hand
up.

  “Your personal belongings from your offices will be delivered to your homes--”

  “You cannot do this,” Salvatore Moosini, Benito’s closest friend and ally, stood up and pounded his fist on the table.

  “Oh, I can, and I will.”

  “You are out of your mind.” He tossed his head back and laughed, “He’s gone mad.”

  “Each of you will receive a month’s wages and will be questioned. If found guilty--”

  “We want to see Benito!”

  “In six to ten years, that may be possible. Due to the ongoing investigation, that is all the information I can give you. Now, Salvatore sit your ass down or security will be called to come and remove you.”

  I waited for him to sit.

  “Now, gentlemen, after you sign the papers, you can hand them to Rossi. Your cellular devices or any electronics you have that belong to DeLuca, can be handed to one of the two detectives standing outside the conference room. There are cars waiting to take you to your homes, since the vehicles you drive are DeLuca property. Your access to this building or any other that belongs to DeLuca is officially denied. And don’t skip town, you’re all under investigation. You’re being given special privileges because you are members of the board. Many others will be less fortunate.”

  I left the room that had erupted in chaos.

  I stood in the entrance and watched one by one as they all walked out, escorted by a security team that my cousin, Cyrus, put in place.

  “This is an outrage,” Moosini spat, as he walked by.

  The rest of the afternoon was much the same. Little by little every department head was given the same speech. I started with the top and went to the bottom.

  The next day, we brought back some of the men and women Benito had let go, over the past four years, while he had been in charge. Each story was the same, all boiling down to the fact that they weren’t efficient enough. Some had been contacted later by Grandmother Isabella and given jobs in the vineyards, many declined.

  I had a list of men and women I would be calling back. Once the building had surveillance in place, so that when I, or whoever I chose, weren’t available it could still be monitored everywhere. The new security team could watch over what was going on, when I was unable to.

  After the main headquarters were taken care of, Rossi and I traveled to Venice, where the casino that headquartered DeLuca’s entertainment and food interests was. Many people would be losing their jobs over the next few weeks. If all went well, many of the businesses started by Deluca that sucked money, not only illegally but also legally, from the foundation of the business built by my grandparents and my father, would be gone.

  Three days later, I was finally in Livorno, on my boat having dinner with some of my father’s old friends. Friends that had been pushed out of our lives a long time ago by Anthony DeLuca. Three of them were now retired but very willing to do whatever they could to help. My father trusted these men, I did as well. With security measures in place, there was no reason not to. Checks and Balances.

  When they had gone, Jules showed up. She was finally going to get Angelina from the institution where she had been living for years.

  “Have you talked to her physicians?” I asked, as we sat on the bench seat in the back of my boat.

  “She’s doing well. They think if I am committed to round the clock care, she will continue improving and maybe someday Ma, will be Mother. I don’t care if it is or isn’t. I will take Ma. I will take whatever I get from my little angel.”

  “You’d do anything you could for her.” I said and took her hand.

  “I already have.” Her voice was tender and raw, completely not like the Jules I had known for all these years.

  “Will you be going back to Cuba?”

  “I don’t know, yet. I don’t want to go back. There is nothing there anymore. I want to bring her back to a beautiful home, to a beautiful room, to--”

  “He’ll be in jail for six years, Jules. Stay here.”

  “I would be looking over my shoulder. I would be waiting for someone to shove a knife into my back. Then, where would Angelina be?”

  “I understand your concerns, all legitimate. You will have enough money to have a security team. I would advise it, even if you leave Italy.”

  “I’ll always be running, won’t I?”

  “Are you second guessing yourself, Jules?”

  “I know how you all feel about me. I fucked Benito, and let him control my life for years. I spent four years doing whatever the hell I was ordered to do. I did that all for her. She never would have received medical attention, or any of the therapy she needed to develop as much as she has. I did this for her.”

  “I know you did what you needed to for her. No judgment here, Jules.”

  “I whored myself for my child, and I would do it again.” She looked up at me. “I would do anything to keep her safe.”

  “Of course, you would.” I nodded.

  “Dom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Not a discussion I wish to have with you.”

  She closed her eyes, leaned back, and inhaled a deep breath. “It’s beautiful here, you know, on the water looking up at the stars. Nothing seems like it could possibly be wrong with the world. Then again, that’s how I feel whenever you’re around. Safe. Respected. Like I matter.”

  “Jules--”

  “It’s different with you.” She ran her fingers through my hair.

  “Jules--”

  “Dominic, we are good together.”

  ***

  I carried on the last bag from the car as Jules helped Angelina into a wheelchair. The doctors said what not to expect; the list was long and not encouraging. Don’t expect a reaction, not a smile, not for her to walk, or talk, or eat on her own. Don’t expect her to ever use the bathroom facilities unassisted, or ever to be able to do the simple task of wiping her own backside. Angelina would never run, sing, dance, laugh, throw, or roll a ball. She would never have friends, date, be married, or ever have children.

  Each devastating blow they gave was like a death sentence to a parent. I expected tears from Jules, but that is not what I got. She only smiled and looked into the little, frail, dark haired girl’s face. When she turned to them and held up her hand, stopping the warnings, she smiled and nodded.

  “Four years ago I was told she would never sit up unassisted. She would never communicate, in any way possible. I was told she would never stand, let alone take a step. Today, I see that none of that was true. She has made more progress than expected. She will continue doing so.”

  I walked up the dock in front of them and opened the gate. Jules wheeled her little girl onto the boat. They went directly to the back where she situated the chair next to the bench and locked the wheels.

  I spoke briefly to the captain and went back to sit with them.

  I watched Jules fuss over her, just like a mother should with her child. There was no doubt she loved her, none. How could you not respect a woman like that?

  Angelina was a beautiful girl. She looked like her mother. If not for the wheelchair, and the fact that her eyes remain closed the majority of the time, you wouldn’t suspect that there was anything different about her than any other seven-year-old child.

  When Jules touched her face and spoke to her, Angelina’s eyes would flutter, and much of the time open in response to the stimulation.

  “She knows you’re her momma, Jules.”

  She looked over at me and smiled, pride beaming in her eyes. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Breathtakingly.”

  “How could you not want to show her to the world?” she said, as she put headphones on her and played music, which caused her to close her eyes and smile. “I won’t let her hear negative comments. I know she can hear me. I know she could hear them today, and every day that they talked in front of her like she doesn’t understand. They’re wrong, Dom, I know they are.”


  “She’s smiling. Enjoying the music. What are you playing for her?”

  “Children’s choir music. If she’ll never have real friends to play with, she will have them. But I have hope she will.”

  “I know she will.”

  Ever since Valentina entered my world, I have been avoiding her. I feel bad because I know she has to know what I am doing. I have also been looking at Instagram, again. I stalk his page and very little is posted. He likes everything that Valentina posts, and then she takes the post down. I imagine her taunting him is fun for her.

  On Friday of the next week, it can’t be avoided. I look at Jules DeLuca’s account, and see a picture that was posted that day of Dominic sitting next to a girl she calls her angel, her life, Angelina. They are on a boat, and he appears to be engaged in a conversation with the little girl.

  When I get home from work and rush to the elevator, I heard Valentina’s voice, “Your friend threw up the other day.”

  “I don’t know if she’s alright.”

  “She avoids me, at all costs.”

  “Of course, she knows who I am.”

  “What was I supposed to do, Dominic, ignore the vomiting girl in the entry? She could very well be carrying my niece, or nephew.”

  Oh, my God, I cover my mouth. I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I just can’t help myself.

  “I hope she is, you stubborn ass. Then maybe you’ll call her.”

  “She hasn’t run for the hills, yet.”