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“Your roommate’s kid?”
“Yeah… I wasn’t being entirely truthful with you.”
Dominic’s brows furrow slightly. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath. This is it. Time to rip off the Band-Aid and deal with whatever comes next. “Well, Felicia’s actually —”
His phone goes off. Dominic glares at his screen, canceling the call. “Apologies,” he says gruffly. “You were saying?”
I lick my lips, my throat suddenly very dry. “I wanted to tell you that Felicia is —”
His phone rings again. Dominic huffs. “It’s work,” he grumbles.
“It’s okay. Go ahead and answer. I can wait.”
Dominic offers me a small, appreciative smile before he answers. “What do you want, Elio? Didn’t I tell you not to disturb —” He trails off, his expression suddenly grave. Dominic’s jaw ticks, his brows knitted together in a mix of anger and maybe even disgust. “I understand. We’ll get moving. Tell the boys it’s time to go hunting.”
“Is everything alright?” I ask as he hangs up hastily, reaching for his wallet. He throws a couple hundred-dollar bills on the table.
“We need to go,” he says.
“What? But we haven’t finished yet.”
“Marina.Now.”
Something in his tone strikes fear into me, but there’s nothing I hate more than being kept in the dark. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Dominic stands, offering me his hand to take. “We’re in danger. I need to get you somewhere safe.”
My head spins. “Danger? What on Earth are you talking about?”
Before he gets the chance to explain, a sudden commotion breaks out near the main entrance of the restaurant. A group of angry men barge past the host and servers, their eyes locked on Dominic and me.
“That’s him,” one of them hisses. “Remember boys, Renato wants him brought in alive.”
Dominic quickly takes my hand and drags me with him just as one of the men brandishes the cold, unforgiving metal of a gun.
“Marina! Run!”
Chapter 13
Dominic
The sound of a gunshot rips through the air.
Restaurant patrons scream as they trample over each other, scrambling for the nearest exit. Dishes break, glass shatters, tables flip over in all the confusion and chaos, but I remain focused. Fear doesn’t serve me, and if I want to get Arin out of here alive, I can’t afford to panic.
I drag her toward the kitchens, ignoring the confused shouts of the kitchen staff as we barrel on through toward the back exit. Our pursuers are hot on our tail, trailing behind us by only a few feet. One of them takes another shot. The bullet hits one of the roaring hood fans.
This isn’t good for a multitude of reasons. Someone’s going to get hurt, and there’s a very good chance it will be a civilian. The fact that they’re making a move in broad daylight is also a massive pain in the ass. There’s no shortage of witnesses, and the police are definitely going to be involved.
Not to mention how this complicates matters forme. What the fuck is Renato thinking, calling for an open hit on the right-hand man of another capo? This is a very firm declaration of war, which means things are about to get ugly. Now that my boss has been out of town long enough, Renato probably thought this was as good a time as any to move in on his racket.
One of our assailants gains on me, snatching me by the shoulder. Relying on instincts alone, I whip around and nail the fucker square in the jaw. He reels back, falling to the slippery tile floors below. But the other three aren’t far behind him, charging toward us with murder in their eyes.
“Dominic!” Arin screams. “Duck!”
My body reacts before my brain can, dipping out of the way just as Arin picks up a nearby pot of boiling water. She throws it at the nearest man, scalding his face and body. He groans in agony, his flesh already blistering.
