“No, I want to know what he’s looking for. Keep him on a tight leash.”
“Will do.”
I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and stare out at the Manhattan skyline. I’m procrastinating on what I need to do next. I need to speak with La Corona.
I’m not sure if this is part of Olivia’s investigation or an extension of whatever the hell has been going on the last few years.
Either way, I took a vow to keep La Corona informed.
I take a long sip of whiskey, letting it burn down my throat, as I know that I’m also going to lie to them.
No way can I let them know I’ve been fucking the agent looking to put me in jail.
I wonder what Olivia would think if she knew I was letting her colleague continue his charade.
Would she be relieved I'm not planning to kill him, or disappointed I saw through their plan so quickly?
Either way, I need answers. And if Olivia is behind this, our next encounter will be very different from the last.
No matter how much I might want her, I won't let anyone threaten mine.
Not even her.
I finish my drink and make the call setting up a meeting of La Corona to meet at Leonardo Ferraza’s.
Two hours later, I arrive at Leo’s home, ten minutes late. I stride into his meeting room and take my usual seat at the table.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s unusual considering you called this meeting,” Marco states.
Luca sits across from me, looking concerned. Roman stands behind Marco, ever the loyal enforcer.
Leonardo pours himself a glass of his prized Sicilian wine. "Your message sounded urgent, Dominic."
"It is." There’s no small talk in La Corona. We deliver the good, the bad, and the ugly directly. "The FBI planted an undercover agent at my docks the other day. Special Agent Michael Mullen posing as a desperate dock worker."
The room tenses. Marco leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "Are you certain?"
"Completely. Had his prints run.”
Luca shifts in his seat. "What's your plan? Have you removed him?"
"No." I meet each of their gazes. "I've kept him on legitimate work. For now, he sees nothing suspicious, learns nothing valuable. But I find out what he’s after."
"Risky," Leonardo comments, swirling his wine. "Your father would have handled it differently."
"My father isn't here," I reply coolly. "And his methods often created more problems than they solved."
Marco nods slightly, the closest thing to approval I'll get from him. "You think this is targeted, or part of something broader?"
"That's why I called this meeting." I lean in. "We’ve had usual issues over the last few years. I don’t know if the FBI thinks Agent Ricci sucks at her job and is sending someone else in or if this is something different.” Deciding to tell them everything, or mostly everything, I say, “In an unrelated story, Darius is gone. The mother fucker stole half a million from me.”
All three dons glance at each other in surprise.
“He said Blackwood approached him, but he turned him down. Still, he felt my downfall was imminent and decided to help himself to my money.”
Roman laughs. “Idiot.”
