Dom's Ascension (Mariani Crime Family Book 0)

by Amanda Washington

  Gino’s eyebrows rose. “I’m a family man, Dom. It’s business. You don’t get too close, you know?”

  I swore off Annetta Porro that night, knowing the more time I spent with her the harder it would be to marry Valentina. I locked down my feelings and vowed to do my duty like Gino had. Family had to come first. If my cousin could live that way, so could I. I was determined.

  I barely lasted three weeks before practically begging her to spend time with me. Both relieved and disappointed when she agreed, I knew I’d failed her and my family. And as she slept naked beside me in front of the fireplace, I realized how screwed I was.

  Her perfect body, soft and hard in all the right places, called to my hands to touch it. I traced a finger over her breast, up her neck, and to her plump, slightly parted lips. She opened her eyes slowly, and inviting dark pools looked up at me. “Hey,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.

  “Hey, Net,” I said, smiling. My Net had me all tangled and tripped up. I didn’t know what to do about her, but I was sure as hell enjoying being caught. “Don’t sleep. I don’t know how long I’ll get to keep you.”

  She smiled. “What do you want to do?”

  My gaze drifted down her body—I had a few ideas—but I wanted more than sex from her. I wanted to get to know her better. “Talk to me. Tell me more about yourself.” I kissed the ticklish spot on her neck and she laughed and wiggled away from me.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything. Everything. What’s your favorite color? Favorite movie? Favorite food? Just tell me some stuff,” I said.

  We alternated between talking, laughing, and messing around until the sun came up. All too early, my pager went off—reality calling me to return. I phoned in and confirmed that Carlo needed me to do a couple of pickups. Annetta and I put the blankets we’d used in the dirty clothes hamper and locked up the house.

  The drive to Annetta’s was quiet, and I got the sense she was no more ready to go home than I was to drop her off. Still, duty called, so I walked her to the door and gave her one last kiss.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again,” I said.

  “I get it,” she replied, searching my face. “But try to call every once in a while to let me know you’re okay. I worry about you.”

  I knew she cared, but hearing her say it warmed me in ways I’d never imagined it could. Dreading being away from her, I vowed to check in regularly. It was a promise I could and did keep. As the weeks passed, I called as often as I could, and occasionally even managed to slip away and see her. Sometimes we double dated with Mario and Annetta’s friend Adona, but we were always careful and stuck to out-of-town restaurants unassociated with my family. A few of our dates ended in passion-filled nights, but more than not they were interrupted by business.

  Annetta was patient and understanding, never demanding more than I could give her. Our time together felt like the most precious commodity I had, and I fought to get more of it. But fate, it seemed, fought against me.

  Spring turned into summer and Abriana married and moved to California with Romario De Lucca. I called her a couple of times, and although she didn’t sound happy, she was alive and healthy, which I told myself had to be enough. The attacks on the family increased, and the De Luccas sent us steady weapon shipments and helped us organize strikes against the Durantes.

  September brought on Michael’s engagement dinner. His fiancée’s family hosted, so we didn’t return to Annetta’s restaurant. Valentina’s eighteenth birthday was on the horizon, turning her into some sort of clingy octopus with bright-pink lipstick. Each step she made to follow me around the dinner sounded like a giant clock hand ticking against me. Soon I’d be forced to do my duty. And then what? Would Annetta cook for my engagement party? Would she agree to be my mistress?

  Luckily, Father had more important things to worry about than getting his second son hitched. The Commission was still trying to place a messaggero, and my father’s paranoia kept increasing at an alarming rate. He had every wiseguy available working around the clock. The days lengthened, and Father demanded more of my time, stealing away any free hours I planned to spend with Annetta.

  The less time I got with Annetta, the more my mood soured. It came to a head one night during a family dinner when one of the maids spilled my water and I snapped at her. I’d never done that before. Father treated the help like shit, but Mamma had raised us to respect them. Alarmed by my behavior, she tugged me aside and asked me what was wrong.

  I tried to shake her off, not wanting her to worry. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Don’t you lie to your mamma, mio figlio,” she said, frowning as she studied my face. “And don’t pretend I can’t see the truth for myself. Avere un chiodo fisso in testa.”

  The old saying, an accusation that I had a nail fixed in my head, was the Italian version of saying I had a bee in my bonnet. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her idiom. “It’s not a nail, Mamma. More like being caught in a net.”

  Her forehead scrunched up. “Well, tell me,” she demanded.

  Knowing she couldn’t do a damn thing to help me, I tried to shrug her off again. “Leave it be. You can’t fix it.”

  That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because her eyes flashed with anger. She glared from me to the sliding glass door, beyond which Father entertained a few local lawmakers out on the deck, before tugging me further into the house.

  “Don’t you talk to me like that, Dominico. Your father may have forgotten who I am, but I haven’t. I am the eldest daughter of Michael Dominico Mariani, and Giovanni was nothing but a common soldier when I met him,” she spat. “I made that man, and because of me he rose to be the family boss. I may not have been born the son my father wanted, but I am far from helpless. You would all be wise to remember that and not underestimate me.”

  I’d never seen Mamma so pissed before. I’d heard whispers that people feared her and I’d never put much stock in the gossip before, but seeing her like this… I lowered my gaze and apologized. She patted my cheek and demanded again that I tell her what was wrong.

  “Just a girl.”

  “And not Valentina Pelino, I take it.”

  I shook my head. “No. I… It doesn’t matter.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, and I’ll decide whether or not it matters.”

  Against my better judgment, I broke down and spilled everything. Well, almost everything, but I was betting she could guess what I’d left out.

  She watched me, waiting until I finished to say, “Your face lights up when you talk about this girl. She’s special to you.”

  “She’s…I love her, Mamma. I know it doesn’t matter, because of the Pelinos, but I do.” Admitting it aloud didn’t change anything, but it did make me feel better.

  “And her family’s not connected?” Mamma asked.

  “No. It’s just her and her father. We did a thorough check before hiring her on at the restaurant.” I’d bet my life that neither Annetta nor her old man had any ties to the mafia. Well, I pretty much had. “Her father owes some money to Don Rocchi, though. He took out a loan for Annetta’s schooling.”

  Mamma sighed and pulled me down into a hug, rubbing my back like I was five years old with a scraped knee again. “Let me think about this,” she said. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

  I chuckled at the idea, wondering what she thought either of us could do. No matter who Mamma had been, it was suicide to go against my father. Especially because of the dark mood he’d been in lately. “Yes, Mamma,” I said to appease her.

  She kissed my cheeks and sent me back outside to do my old man’s bidding.

  ***

  A few days after I talked to Mamma, I got the chance to call Annetta again. It had been a particularly bad day because one of our deliveries had been intercepted and a couple of soldiers had been killed. My crew had tracked the assholes responsible, but we were waiting for the nod from Carlo before we stormed th
eir warehouse to retrieve our goods and make them pay for what they’d done. When we stopped to grab lunch while we waited, I hit the payphone by the men’s room to call Annetta.

  “Oh thank God you called,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I…I can’t talk to you over the phone about this, Dom. I need to see you.”

  We’d been together for months, and I’d never heard her sound so desperate and afraid. My mind raced at the possibilities. Had someone found out about us and threatened her? Or had she finally come to her senses enough to brush me off for good? Both options twisted my stomach in knots.

  “We’re waiting for the green light on a job right now, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have,” I said.

  “It will only take a couple of minutes,” she insisted. “And it’s important.”

  “Okay. I’m about fifteen minutes away from your house. I’ll be there soon.”

  I disconnected, told my crew I had to run an errand, and headed out. Minutes later, I pounded on Annetta’s door. Her father’s truck was gone and there were no sounds coming from the house. I pounded harder. When the door finally swung open, Annetta stood on the other side. She wore shorts and a T-shirt, and her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Come in,” she said, waving me forward. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  Like I could sit without knowing what had her so upset. I stood in front of the sofa and waited, watching the hallway she’d disappeared down. She returned carrying some sort of white stick. My stomach plummeted as she held it between us.

  “What is that?” I asked, even though a part of me already knew.

  “A pregnancy test. It’s positive. I’m…I’m pregnant.”

  I looked from the stick to her face, and then back to the stick. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I checked twice. Then a doctor confirmed it.”

  Okay, now I needed to sit down. My legs shuffled until I felt the sofa behind me. Then I collapsed. “How far along?”

  Annetta stayed where she stood. “Almost four months.”

  “Four months?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t get morning sickness. But last week at work the smell of chicken cooking made me…” She swallowed. “It was bad. Adona bought me a test, and here we are.”

  I shook my head, unable to make sense of it. “We were careful. I used protection.”

  “I know.” She looked stricken. “And I…I don’t expect anything from you. I know your work is complicated and you can’t…promise me tomorrow. I get that.” She wrapped her hands protectively around her stomach. “But…I…I heard his heartbeat, and I can’t abort him. I can do this. I know it’s going to be difficult, but I can—”

  “It’s a boy?” I asked.

  “They can’t tell yet. But I’ve been reading a bunch of books and they say morning sickness is worse with girls and since I didn’t have any…it’s just a guess.”

  She was rambling, and I could barely string three words together. Annetta was pregnant with my child, and if my father or Don Pelino found out…

  “Shit,” I said, standing.

  Her face whipped around like I’d slapped her. Brow furrowed, she said, “I’m not asking for anything from you, Dom. You don’t need to get angry, I’m only telling you because I thought…because I…”

  She didn’t understand. I closed the distance between us and wrapped her in my arms. “It’s not that, Net. I need some time to process. I want to be involved, and I want to be with you, but I need to figure some things out. Can you please give me a little time?”

  She nodded against my shoulder. “Yes. I know this is a lot to lay on you. I’m sorry.”

  I kissed the top of her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We did this together, and we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

  Her entire body relaxed against me. “Thank you.” Then her lips found mine. She tasted of tears and worry, and I tried to kiss it all away while anguish churned my stomach. No matter what I’d said, I couldn’t imagine a way to be with Annetta. Not with my father’s plans for my future hanging over my head. Still, I had to do something to help her.

  I pulled away and lifted the hem of her shirt away from her stomach, revealing the small bump beneath. I cupped my hands over our child and silently vowed to protect him—or her. Then, bringing my attention back to Annetta, I said, “I love you. You know that, right?”

  She smiled, stealing my heart away even more. “I love you too, Dom.”

  I kissed her forehead. “I love you, and I love him, and we’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  She looked up at me with trust and admiration in her eyes and replied, “Okay.”

  Then my pager went off. I didn’t want to call in from Annetta’s phone—didn’t want to chance her getting messed up in all the shit happening between the families—so I asked her not to tell anyone about the child until I called her and left.

  That night, I approached the only person who I thought might be willing to help me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Annetta

  THE MORNING AFTER I told Dominico about the baby, I was getting ready for work when someone knocked on the door. Papa had long since headed off to his own job, so I answered the door to find a beautiful woman approximately Papa’s age standing on my doorstep. She wore a casual dress that looked expensive, probably out of some designer’s collection. Big dark curls with strands of silver framed her face, her cheekbones were high, her lips were red and plump, and her dark eyes were kind, but perceptive.

  She studied me from head to toe before saying, “You must be Annetta. You’re even more lovely than he described.”

  “Thank you. I—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. How thoughtless of me to not introduce myself first. I’m Rosalie Mariani, dear, Dominico’s mother.”

  I stood there like an idiot, wondering why Dominico’s mother was on my doorstep. Dressed in my restaurant uniform with my hair pulled back in a bun, I felt ill-prepared to meet anyone from Dominico’s wealthy family. Self-conscious, I reached out to offer her a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Mariani. How can I help you?”

  She disregarded my outstretched hand and pulled me in for a hug. “Rosalie, dear. Please. Dom has told me everything, and I stopped by to see if I could interest you in spending the day with me so I can get to know you a little better.”

  I pulled away and gestured at my uniform. “I’d love to, but I have to work soon. I was just about to leave for my shift.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already called Camellia and she assured me Collin will be able to find someone to cover for you.”

  “Camellia?” I asked.

  Rosalie smiled. “The owner’s wife. We go back a long way.”

  All right then. Fully aware of the scary show of power she presented by casually rearranging my schedule, I was terrified of spending the day with Dominico’s mother. I expected all sorts of awkwardness, but Rosalie didn’t seem like the type of woman anyone said no to. Besides, I wanted to know what was included in this “everything” Dominico had told her about me.

  “Do you mind if I change first?” I asked.

  “Of course not. Please, get comfortable. I thought we’d go have lunch somewhere and get to know one another.”

  I invited Rosalie in and got her situated on the sofa before hurrying into my room to change, wishing I could contact Dominico to get some advice or information. Next time I heard from him, I planned to give him an earful for not at least warning me his mother would show up. A little advance notice would have been nice so I could have at least made a good first impression.

  Nothing to be done about that now, so I put on one of the dresses I wore to mass—floral and knee-length with a fitted waist—and glanced in the mirror, turning to the side. My baby bump was barely showing. No help for that either, so I grabbed a shawl to drape
over my shoulders and headed out.

  Rosalie drove a pristine white Lincoln Town Car with tan leather interior and powered everything. “I thought we’d start at the spa,” she said as we climbed in. “I could go for a little pampering, and I’m sure the mother of my first grandchild could too.”

  Well, she knew about the baby at least. “That sounds nice,” I replied.

  She asked me about my job and my family as she drove. I tried to ask a few of my own questions, but she deflected them even better than Dominico. By the time we parked, she knew pretty much everything there was to know about me, but had given up very little about herself.

  We headed into the spa where one thing became abundantly clear: Rosalie Mariani knew how to get pampered. We were manicured, pedicured, massaged, fed, and mud bathed. I tried to pay for my own treatments a couple of times, but she insisted on covering everything. Probably for the better, since none of the services had price tags and were most likely well outside of my budget.

  Rosalie did eventually break into a few stories about Dominico’s childhood, which had me rolling with laughter. According to her, he’d been quite the clown, suspended for everything from mooning his teacher to putting fake spiders in the principal’s office.

  “He always made me laugh,” she said, her eyes misty with memories. “Of course, sometimes I had to wait until he’d left the room, but I always got a chuckle out of his antics. I miss those days.”

  The way she sounded like those days were over made me sad. “He makes me laugh,” I hurried to reassure her. “Dom still has a great sense of humor.”

  She studied me, as if trying to decide whether or not I was telling the truth. “Forgive me, Annetta, but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard my son laugh. It’s good to hear that he still has the ability.”

  I asked her what had happened to change Dominico, and she muttered something about boys growing up, and changed the subject.

  When our pampering came to an end, Rosalie took me into a small room where she sat us down facing each other and held my hand in hers. “I must speak frankly with you, Annetta. As you know, Dominico’s…job is very confidential and demanding. My husband is in the same line of business, and over the twenty-six years we’ve been married, it has never gotten any better. Late nights, early mornings, sometimes he doesn’t come home at all. It can be very lonely.”