11. Dominic

CHAPTER 11

Dominic

N ever thought I’d see the day when I was actively ignoring a problem in hopes that it would disappear. Madelyn and I didn’t say a word to each other throughout the ride to her house two nights ago. She was quiet—too quiet, which was worrying in and of itself.

It made me curious about what I said while I was having that nightmare. I don’t usually have nightmares. Or any sort of dreams. Most of the time, I sleep peacefully, which is a relief because the reminder of my reality is torture in and of itself. But once in a while, when my body crashes like last night, I’m unable to escape my pain in my dreams.

Madelyn looked pretty spooked when I came to, and I can’t help but wonder if I said the wrong thing. And then I kissed her. I shouldn’t have kissed her. She set clear boundaries and I practically bulldozed them. All I know is that in that moment, I physically needed her, more than I needed to breathe.

I opened my eyes and saw her clear green ones and I immediately felt a sense of calm and peace. Kissing her grounded me; it made everything else grow quiet.

I realized for the first time after that kiss how deep this has gotten. Camila was right. This is dangerous. And I’m so fucked.

Over the past two days, the two of us have been doing a pretty good job of pretending nothing happened. She’s seated beside me right now and we’re at a morning debrief. I’ve been tuned out the entire time, hyperaware of Madelyn. Her soft lilac scent clouds my senses. I’m miserable as fuck because I’m constantly battling the urge to throw her into my bedroom, lock us both inside, throw away the key, and stay there forever.

“That’s all for today,” Joshua announces. “Anyone have anything to say?”

Madelyn’s hand shoots up. I roll my eyes, expecting her to talk about her precious Christmas games or something along those lines.

“Yes, Maddie?” Joshua prompts.

“As you know, I’ve been studying the footage of Torres. And I was able to figure out the identity of the man he was speaking to thanks to Dominic’s database.”

My gaze shoots in her direction, wondering at what she’s getting at. I already know the identity of the man Torres was dealing with. I just chose to be careful because digging into him would only serve to further escalate matters.

I grit my teeth, regretting that I didn’t go over exactly what she used my database for. I should have checked. All I was did was ensure that she wouldn’t have access to the identities of anyone important or incriminating.

And Joshua should have involved me if he knew she was going to look into Tanaka. We share a look and I can tell he’s coming to the same conclusion I am. Only he looks much grimmer than me.

“He’s a Japanese-American man with ties to the Yakuza. As in the Japanese mafia. His name is Yuki Tanaka, and he’s had several priors in Japan for possession, arms dealing, and so many other things.”

“You want us to look into the Yakuza?” Joshua asks her, his lips pressed thinly.

She shakes her head. “No, Tanka’s only a foot soldier. Plus, we all know the Yakuza doesn’t have that big a foothold in the city. They aren’t particularly dangerous here in Chicago, unlike other groups.”

I laugh inwardly. She has no idea what’s dangerous and what’s not.

“Get to the point, Madelyn,” Joshua prompts.

“Tanaka’s also had dealings with the Italian mafia in the past. This is our chance to finally look into the organization. I have the evidence to prove their connection. And if Tanaka’s involved with Torres, then it’s pretty clear that the Italian mafia is involved with him as well.”

And she’s lost me. I subtly clench my jaw. “That’s a pretty big leap you’ve made there, Flowers.”

“It makes sense,” she states without looking at me. Her eyes are on Joshua, her expression stubborn. “You’ve shut me down every single time I’ve asked, but it’s not happening again. Torres put two of our agents in the hospital and killed four civilians, not to mention his rap sheet that’s filled with criminal activity. If there’s suspicion that the mafia is backing him then we need to at least look into it.”

My jaw tightens even further. I shoot Joshua a sharp look. What the fuck? He knew she wanted to look into the Italian mafia and he didn’t tell me. My mind races as I try to figure out exactly why this is so important to her.

What does she know?

Joshua seems at a loss for words for a couple of seconds.

“Madelyn, we’ll discuss this later,” he says firmly before leaving the room.

The meeting disperses and, as expected, she sets off after Joshua immediately. But I don’t let her. I follow her out, gripping her wrist before pulling her in the direction of the stairwell. Once we’re there, I push her against the wall and crowd her body with mine.

“What was that in there?” I ask, fighting to keep the emotions storming within me at bay.

“What?” she returns, green eyes blazing.

“You know what. Why do you care about the Italian mafia?”

“They’re a criminal organization that should be taken down and I’m an FBI agent. Why wouldn’t I care about them?”

She tries to wiggle out of my hold but I keep her in place, my concentration unbroken.

“No, what happened in there was personal. You want to go after them for a reason. Tell me why.”

“Dominic, read my lips,” she says in frustration. “I am an FBI agent. It’s my job to make sure criminals end up where they should be: prison.”

“Stop lying to me,” I growl. “Especially not when you know as well as I do that I can tell every single time you do it.”

“You first, Dominic,” she retorts.

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Sure, but you’ve never told me anything, either. You want me to bare my heart and soul? Well, first you have to give me something. Got it?”

My jaw tightens and I fight the urge to shake some sense into her. I swear no one makes me lose control the way she does.

“What do you want to know? You get one question, Madelyn, and then you have to tell my why you’re so interested in the Italian mafia.”

What does she know? Please tell me she doesn’t know.

She bites down on her bottom lip, her expression thoughtful before she nods once. I brace myself for the question that’s sure to be invasive. But she’s right, I can’t expect her to talk to me if I don’t reciprocate.

“Go on,” I prompt.

“Why do you have that scar? Who hurt you?”

I run a hand through her hair, keeping my gaze fixed on hers. “That’s two questions, Flowers. I’m only going to answer the first one,” I suck in a sharp breath before telling her the truth. “I got stabbed when I was seven. Right above my heart. I needed several surgeries to get it fixed.”

Her eyes soften. “I’m so sorry, Dom.”

“Save the sympathy. Now answer my question. Why are you so interested in the Cosa Nostra?”

“Because,” she starts and then pauses, looking up into my eyes.

“Tell me,” I prod.

She leans back into the wall, exhaling. “Because I want to find my father.”

The revelation has me feeling a plethora of emotions in a manner of seconds. The most potent is relief. Because she still has no idea what’s really going on. She’s still unaware about the truth. I’d like to keep her that way for a little longer.

There’s some resentment directed not toward her but toward her fucking father. And finally, a spark of pain slithers through my chest, mixed with foreboding. Camila’s warning blares in my head, reminding me that I don’t have a lot more time.

“What has your father got to do with the mafia?” I ask, my voice softer.

The ache in my chest grows at the expression that crosses her face. She offers me a bitter smile before answering.

“I’ve never actually met him, my father. He abandoned us when I was a baby. Left us and never looked back. The only thing my mom ever told me about him was that he was Italian and a member of the Cosa Nostra, a powerful one. That’s all I know about him, but it should be enough. I need it to be enough so I can find him.”

“Why?” I question.

Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, why? The guy was responsible for bringing me into the world, the least I can do is try to meet him at least once.”

I call bullshit. I stare at her for a couple of seconds, coming to the conclusion she refuses to say out loud.

“You want to punish him, don’t you? This isn’t just some quest to find your long-lost father and a journey of love. You want to find him and then you want to make him hurt, just as bad as he did to you and your mother.”

Her fists clench as she glares up at me. Gotcha, Flowers.

There’s a darkness in her, as well. One that calls to me. I just hate that in this instance, all that pain and need for revenge will go nowhere.

“Perceptive bastard,” she mutters.

I can tell she’s shutting down. If I try to push her any more, she’ll tell me to fuck off. So I step back.

“Alright,” I say simply.

“Alright, what?”

I shrug. “Nothing, Flowers. You can go.”

“You can’t just drag me over here and dismiss me like I’m some kind of prostitute,” she snaps.

“Calling yourself a prostitute when I didn’t even fuck you? I keep telling you sweetheart, all you have to do is ask,” I say on a smirk.

She glares even harder, trying and failing to push me backward. “You’re an ass.”

I’m about to reply when I hear a grating voice over my shoulder.

“What’s going on here?”

Madelyn’s eyes widen as she looks toward the newcomer. Meanwhile, my jaw tightens and I take my sweet time turning around to face none other than Kenneth fucking Pratt.

“Maddie, are you okay?” he questions, blue eyes narrowed onto my face.

“She’s fine,” I grit out.

His stance turns confrontational, which makes me scoff. What does he think he’s going to do? Take me down? It would be a cold day in hell before he could pull that off.

“How about you let her speak for herself?” Kenneth states. “I’ve been watching you, Hale, and it’s pretty clear you’ve got her mixed up in something—and from where I’m standing, she doesn’t seem like a willing participant. So I think you’d better leave her alone.”

My lips curl up in a smirk. “You have no idea what she’s willing to do or not. So how about you just fuck off and mind your business?”

He’s about to say something else that will inevitably make me even angrier but Madelyn speaks up first.

“Hey, big scary alphas, I think I can take care of myself. How about the both of you whip out your dicks and measure them somewhere else? I’m leaving. I’ve got better things to do.”

I turn around to watch her walk away, her hair swishing behind her. After she’s gone, I look back at the irritating menace.

“This is your first and last warning, Pratt. Stay away from me and my business.”

With those words, I’m about to walk away, but of course he has to open his big mouth again.

“As long as you stay away from her, we won’t have a problem.”

My fists clench and before I realize it, I’m slamming him into the wall behind him.

“Listen and listen carefully. Madelyn’s not yours. She’s not yours to worry about, or think about. As a matter of fact, don’t even fucking look at her. Stay the hell away from her or I’ll break your face, do you understand?”

He probably has a death wish because instead of nodding like an obedient little soldier, he glares instead.

“You’re only going to hurt her and she doesn’t deserve that. She’s a good person.”

“That’s heartwarming and all, but you don’t get to tell me what to do with what’s mine,” I grit out.

He snarls, “She’s not yours.”

“She will be,” I state—an assurance, a fucking promise.

I’ll do whatever it fucking takes to make Madelyn mine. She was always meant to be right beside me, and I’m ready to bleed to make that happen.

I step back from Kenneth before I actually punch him and fix the cuffs of my shirt and my tie. I’m annoyed that he pushed me into losing it like that. I usually have more chill. Shadows are subtle when it comes to destroying the people who cross them.

“Let’s not have this conversation again,” I tell the other man before walking away.

As soon as I leave the stairwell, I’m heading toward Joshua’s office. I half-expect Madelyn to already be there, but I guess she needed a moment to unwind on her own. Which suits me perfectly, because I have a lot of questions for my friend.

He’s unsurprised when I walk through the door of his opened office before shutting it behind me.

“What does she know about the mafia?” I ask as soon as I’m seated on the chair in front of him.

Joshua runs a hand through his hair, his expression tired.

“As far as I know, nothing,” he replies. “She’s been itching to go after them since she joined the Bureau, though. Every attempt has been blocked but she’s been at it insistently. I have no idea if it’s because of the person she wants to find or if she genuinely wants to take y’all down.”

I’d wager it’s both. I rub a hand over my jaw as I consider the next course of action.

“Do you think this is why she joined the FBI?”

He shrugs. “Either that or to find her mother’s murderer. I’m guessing it’s both.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Her mother’s murder wasn’t a part of the file you gave me.”

“That’s because it’s confidential information. It happened a long time ago, Dom. I only know bits and pieces because my father was in charge of her case. Apparently after her mother died, Madelyn had to be put in witness protection. She went underground for years, living practically as a ghost until it was deemed safe enough for her to resurface.”

I take all that in with a blank face despite the ache in my chest. Still, I latch onto one thing he said.

“Your father was in charge of her case?”

Joshua nods with a grim expression. “Yeah.”

Interesting. It seems if I need information, I’ll have to go through Papa Benson.

“Whatever it is you’re planning, don’t. I told you, Dad can’t find out you’re here or that I even allowed you near the FBI.”

I get to my feet and offer him a small smile. “Don’t worry, Joshua. He won’t. I have to go. If Madelyn comes in here just try to explain and give her a good enough excuse for why her plan is not fucking happening.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I’ve given her every excuse under the sun. Nothing is going to stop her. I think it’s actually making her even more determined.”

I smile at that. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You’d better. This is all your fault, after all,” he says accusingly.

“See you later, Benson.”

I walk out of the office and head home, already making a plan.