Chapter 2 - THE DEVIL AT THE DOOR
Dominic Russo entered Giovanni’s Prime with rain dripping from the shoulders of his black overcoat.
He took in the room in less than a second.
Broken glass.
Clara bleeding.
Shawn O’Connor holding a knife.
Liam blocking the hallway.
Something inside Dominic’s expression disappeared.
Not anger.
Something colder.
“Put it down.”
Shawn turned.
For the first time since entering the restaurant, the O’Connor brother looked frightened.
“Russo.”
Dominic removed his leather gloves one finger at a time.
Behind him stood Victor and Leo.
Neither man smiled.
“I said,” Dominic repeated, “put it down.”
Shawn hesitated.
Clara hated herself for noticing how dramatically the balance of power had changed. Thirty seconds earlier, Shawn had looked ready to cut her open. Now his grip trembled.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Liam said.
Dominic’s gaze dropped to the blood running down Clara’s calf.
“It concerns me.”
Clara bristled.
“I don’t belong to you.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Not now, Clara.”
That somehow irritated her more.
Shawn lowered the knife.
Victor took it from him.
Liam attempted a smile. “Gallagher only wants what he’s owed.”
“Then Gallagher can ask me.”
“We’re collecting from Paulie.”
“No.” Dominic glanced toward the office. “You’re collecting from a restaurant inside my territory without permission.”
Paulie appeared behind Clara looking half dead.
Dominic’s attention shifted to him.
“How long?”
Paulie swallowed.
“Three months.”
Clara stared at him.
“You’ve been paying them for three months?”
“They threatened my daughter.”
The words changed everything.
Dominic’s face remained unreadable.
“Victor.”
Victor understood immediately. He escorted the O’Connor brothers outside.
Nobody heard what happened in the alley.
Nobody asked.
Dominic approached Clara instead.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I noticed.”
“Clara.”
“Dominic.”
Leo made the mistake of laughing.
Dominic looked over.
Leo stopped.
Clara limped toward a chair, determined not to give Dominic the satisfaction of helping her.
She made it three steps.
Her knee buckled.
His arm caught her waist.
For one strange second, neither moved.
His hand covered the curve of her side. Her palm had landed against his chest.
His heartbeat was steady.
Hers wasn’t.
“Let go.”
“When you can stand.”
“I can stand.”
“You’re currently proving otherwise.”
She glared at him.
Then Dominic did something she never expected.
He knelt.
The feared Dominic Russo, the man who expected everyone else to bow, lowered himself onto one knee in front of a waitress.
Clara went still.
He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it gently against the cut below her knee.
His touch was surprisingly careful.
“You need stitches.”
“It’s a scratch.”
“It’s deep.”
“You a doctor now?”
“No. I simply recognize bleeding.”
“You cause enough of it.”
That landed.
His jaw tightened.
But he didn’t retaliate.
Instead, he tied the cloth around her calf.
Clara studied him.
“You don’t get points for rescuing me after spending two weeks humiliating me.”
His hands stopped.
“I wasn’t asking for points.”
“You called me a parade float.”
“I remember.”
“You left gym brochures instead of tips.”
“I remember that too.”
“You made me hate coming to work.”
This time Dominic looked up.
The arrogance was gone.
Only for a second.
But she saw it.
“I thought you enjoyed fighting with me.”
“You thought wrong.”
Dominic stood.
Clara expected a joke.
None came.
“I’ll take you to a hospital.”
“I’ll take a cab.”
“You’re not taking a cab.”
“Watch me.”
She reached for her coat.
Paulie suddenly stepped forward.
“Clara.”
Something in his voice stopped her.
He held a small brown envelope.
“I need to tell you something.”
Dominic’s attention sharpened.
Paulie opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Clara walking home.
Clara entering her apartment.
Clara visiting a pharmacy.
Clara mailing an envelope to Ohio.
Her stomach dropped.
“What is this?”
“They left them yesterday,” Paulie whispered. “The O’Connors.”
Dominic took the photographs.
His expression hardened with each one.
On the back of the final photograph was a message.
THE WAITRESS KNOWS TOO MUCH.
Clara stared.
“I don’t know anything.”
“You know Gallagher is extorting this restaurant,” Dominic said.
“That’s hardly a state secret.”
“It may be enough.”
“For what?”
Dominic looked at Paulie.
Paulie looked away.
Clara’s anger became fear.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Paulie sat heavily.
“Gallagher isn’t after restaurant money.”
Dominic went completely still.
Paulie continued.
“Three months ago, one of Gallagher’s accountants came here. He was drunk. He left a flash drive inside a coat he checked at the front.”
Clara remembered.
A gray coat.
A drunk businessman.
A frantic phone call the next morning.
“You gave it back.”
Paulie shook his head.
“I gave back the coat.”
Clara felt cold.
“Where’s the drive?”
Paulie looked toward the kitchen.
“I hid it.”
Dominic cursed under his breath.
“What’s on it?” Clara asked.
“Payments. Judges. Police. Businesses. Names.”
“And Gallagher thinks you have it.”
“No,” Paulie said.
His eyes filled with shame.
“He thinks you do.”
Clara stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because I told him you took the coat.”
Silence.
“You used me?”
“I panicked.”
“You told mobsters I stole something from them?”
“I thought they’d realize you knew nothing.”
“They photographed my apartment!”
“I’m sorry.”
Clara backed away.
Dominic caught her elbow.
She ripped free.
“Don’t.”
His hand dropped immediately.
That surprised her.
Dominic turned to Paulie.
“Where is the drive?”
Paulie’s lips trembled.
“The restaurant safe.”
“Get it.”
Paulie hurried away.
Dominic called Victor.
“Bring the car around.”
Clara laughed bitterly.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You can hate me from somewhere Gallagher can’t reach.”
“I’d rather take my chances.”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Absolute.
Clara stepped close enough to point at his chest.
“You don’t order me around.”
His eyes lowered to her finger.
Then returned to her face.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I’m asking.”
That stunned her more than the broken door.
“Come somewhere safe tonight.”
She studied him suspiciously.
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow you decide.”
“You’ll let me leave?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you think it’s dangerous?”
His jaw flexed.
“Yes.”
Clara slowly lowered her hand.
“Why?”
Dominic looked at the blood on her uniform.
His answer came quieter than she expected.
“Because someone hurt you while trying to reach me.”
“That isn’t why.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
He hesitated.
Dominic Russo did not appear to be a man accustomed to explaining himself.
Finally, he said, “Because when I saw that knife pointed at you, I discovered there are some things I don’t find funny.”
Before Clara could answer, Victor reentered.
His face was grim.
“We have a problem.”
Dominic turned.
Victor held up his phone.
“Gallagher’s men weren’t here just for Paulie.”
“What were they here for?”
Victor looked at Clara.
“To take her.”
The room fell silent.
Then headlights flooded through the shattered doorway.
One vehicle.
Then another.
Then another.
Black SUVs stopped outside Giovanni’s.
Clara counted six men stepping onto the sidewalk.
Dominic calmly buttoned his jacket.
“Change of plans.”
Clara grabbed the ketchup bottle again.
Dominic stared at it.
“You’re bringing that?”
“I’m comfortable with it.”
Despite everything, his mouth almost curved.
He offered his hand.
Clara ignored it and walked past him.
“Keep up, Russo.”
May you like
And for the first time in years, Dominic Russo obeyed.
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