“Only that he had a son named Emmanual who took over the business after Carlos died. Looks like he went legit and then died a few years back in a car accident.”
“Any children?”
“Two daughters—Leysa died in the car accident with her father and Laura is in school.”
“Wife?”
“Remarried and, from what we’ve seen, doesn’t give a shit about her dead husband’s business.”
“Well, someone does.”
“Yeah, and I’m hoping Mr. Mayor will know who.”
Dominick pulls up to the gated community, and I’m expecting him to be stopped, but the moment the guard sees him, he lets us through.
“Matteo meeting us?” I ask when we pull into what I assume is the mayor’s driveway.
“No. He’s with Dani and their daughter. I told him I’d handle it.”
We get out, and it’s then I notice two more vehicles pulling up. They park, and six men get out, a few I recognize as Dominick’s men.
“Not taking any chances,” he says. “I’m adding another guard on Brielle since she’s insistent on going about her life instead of staying inside.”
I chuckle, imagining that conversation.
“She’s strong-minded.” I shrug.
Dominick side-eyes me. “I see she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”
I don’t confirm or deny even though we both know he’s not wrong.
Rather than knocking on the door, one of Dominick’s men quickly picks the lock, and another one disarms the alarm when it goes off.
Ilene, the mayor’s wife, appears first to see what’s going on. When she sees who’s in her home, she screams, and one of the men pulls her to the side as I follow Dominick’s lead and head straight to the mayor’s office, where he’s scrambling to grab his shit and run.
“Going somewhere?” Dominick asks, closing the door behind us.
“It wasn’t me!” Eric yells. “You don’t understand.” He glances from Dominick to me, his eyes wide in fear.
“So, make us understand,” Dominick says calmly, having a seat in the chair in front of the desk.
Eric shakes his head, his eyes going to the door, as if he’s calculating if he could make it.
“Sit your ass down,” I command, sitting next to Dominick. “Your wife is being detained until we have this conversation, and if you try to run, you’ll be met with several more men who will consider you a threat and kill you on the spot.”
“My hands are tied,” Eric cries, falling into his chair in defeat.
“And who tied them?” Dominick asks.
“I can’t say. He’ll kill me. I messed up. I got into bed with the wrong guy, and he’s out to get you. If you’re smart, you’ll move, sell the port, and find a new place to run your businesses.”
“This is our city,” Dominick says. “You have two options—tell me who you’re working with, or I’ll slit your throat.” His tone is calm, smooth, like he’s telling the corrupt mayor about the weather,but anyone who knows Dominick Antonov knows that he doesn’t make threats unless he can back them up.
“Carlos Santiago,” Eric hisses. “That’s all I know.”
“And you’ve seen him?” Dominick asks, remaining calm.
“No.” Eric shakes his head. “He donated to my campaign in exchange for me agreeing that I’d push you out.”
