Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Dominik

By the time I get home the sun’s already down. It’s a clear night sky, but the black cloud hovering over my head as I run up the front steps of the house blocks it all out. Something’s happened to Kasia. Tommy had no explanation that made any sense. All I know is he took her into her old neighborhood, and she ended up getting sick in a diner.

“Where is she?” I demand the moment Margaret appears. She’s wringing her hands together and her lips are tight.

“Upstairs. She wouldn’t come down. She wouldn’t let me in the room,” she says, her voice trailing behind me as I take the stairs two at a time.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Both Tommy and James are pacing outside the guestroom door.

“Boss.” Tommy gets in front of me. “I swear, she was fine when she went into the bathroom.”

“What happened, exactly?” I ask, resolving to keep my temper in check until I have a good reason to pound his face in. I’ve been away from the house more than I’d like, but she should have been safe. I pay these assholes to keep her safe.

“She wanted to get something to eat at this diner, so we went in. She went to the bathroom and I stayed at the booth. I kept an eye on the hallway where the bathrooms were, some guy went in and came back out a minute later. Nothing unusual for a guy taking a piss-”

“Talk faster, Tommy.” My chest burns with the anger I’m holding back.

He blanches. “She didn’t come right out, so I checked on her. When I went in, I found her in the stall, puking and clutching a bunch of papers to herself.”

My ears perk. “Papers? What papers?”

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t let me see them. I got her out of there, to the car, then got hold of you. She’s been in the room since we got back. Won’t talk to anyone or let anyone in.”

“You’re sure she’s in there?” I ask sarcastically.

His brow wrinkles. “I watched her. She went to the bathroom. Was I supposed to go in there with her?” he asks, getting defensive.

I set my jaw and stare him down until he takes a step back.

Turning to the door, I knock gently at first. “Kasia. It’s me. Open the door,” I say, knocking louder when I’m met with silence.

“Kasia. If you don’t answer, I’m busting down the door,” I warn, gesturing to Tommy to get the keys from downstairs.

There’s a soft click and then the door pops open an inch. I push through into the room and shut the door behind me. The men don’t need to hear our conversation.

When Kasia looks at me, rage fills me. Her eyes are swollen and red. The tip of her nose is tinged with pink. The woman has been up here sobbing herself sick.

“What’s wrong?” I go to her, grabbing her shoulder, then checking her over. “Are you hurt? Are you sick? Tommy said you were puking.” I brush the hair that’s stuck to her cheeks away from her face. Wet tears still linger on her skin.

“I’m not sick.” She pushes my hands away.

“What happened, Kasia. What’s wrong,” I demand of her when she walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. Papers and photographs are strewn around the bed. When I get close, she leans over and wards me off with her hand.

“Don’t touch anything.” Her voice is low, angry.

I drag my hand through my hair. This isn’t disobedience or defiance. This is something else, something stronger. Something I don’t think is in her control.

“Tell me, then. What the fuck happened in that diner?” I stand in front of her, close enough to grab her, but I fold my arms over my chest, so she understands I won’t.

“What did you find out when you talked with DeGrazio?” she asks me instead of giving me any information.

“Don’t change the topic. Answer me.” I need to know where her head is at.

She laughs, but it’s joyless, empty. “No.”

“Kasia.”

“Fuck you, Dominik.” She waves a hand through the air between us. It’s a weak gesture. She’s tired. “I knew you were a monster. I should have remembered. That first night. You kidnapped that guy’s wife. I should have remembered.” She taps her temple. “But I forgot because you… because you touch me and make me forget.” There’s an accusation there beneath her words.

“Kasia, you’re making no sense.”

I glance around the room. Aside from being angry, she’s jumbling her words together. A bottle of brandy sits on her nightstand. No glass.

Leaning closer to her I can smell it. She reeks of it.

“How much have you had to drink?” I ask, picking up the bottle. It’s not empty, but I don’t know if she took an opened bottle or a new one.

“Not enough.” Another sob breaks through her.

I reach for one of the photographs, but she hits my hand. I give her a hard glare, one that would have had her second thinking her actions yesterday, but she’s brave now with the brandy. She holds my stare.

“You’re drunk.”

She laughs. “I wish.” She picks up the photograph I was reaching for and hands it to me. “See this? That’s my mom and my sister. They’re dead.” She drops the photograph as soon as I hold my hand out for it. “This one.” She pushes documents away and finds another one and shoves it at me. “This one shows a train car. Do you see it?” She pushes it at me, so I take it.

As soon as my eyes make contact with the photo my blood pumps harder. I can hear it in my ears.

“My father… that’s what he sells.” She flicks a finger over the photograph of women chained together being hauled into a train car. This isn’t new information to me, but obviously it is for her.

“Kasia.”

“You knew though, right? I mean, you do business with him. That’s what this marriage was about, settling some stupid territory argument?”

“Kasia, this isn’t what I do.” It’s important that she understands this. I’m no fucking saint, but buying and selling women – we don’t do that.

She lifts her eyes, her sad, tear-filled eyes to me.

“I don’t believe you.” The words are soft, but they hit me like a fucking freight train. “My father ordered that accident. He meant it to be me. I was supposed to get hit. And I was supposed to be taken.” She picks up a crumbled piece of paper and shoves it at me.

Before I open it to read it, she tells me everything she knows.

“I was supposed to be taken to one of those trains. He was going to sell me, Dominik. He hired thugs to kidnap me and sell me.” She sucks in a shaky breath and hugs herself around her middle.

That’s not what the Kominski brothers told me. I pore over the document, hand scribbled notes from DeGrazio’s meetings. I can’t read most of it, names are coded, but what she’s telling me is right. The deal was to have her taken to the trains on the south side. She was supposed to be sold.

“I knew he didn’t love me. He blamed me because mom couldn’t have any more kids after me.”

“You’re a twin, Kasia,” I say stupidly. She’s had more time to process all of this, I’m trying to catch up with her.

“I was the last out.” She points to me. “There was a complication with my birth. Diana was already born. Easy peasy, but me… no. Something went wrong and although they saved my life, there was damage. Dad never got to have the son he wanted.” She wipes the back of her hands across her face. “But sell me? Why? I was leaving for college in a year. I could have been gone from his life, why would…” she trails off, as though her brain just can’t process the thought anymore.

“Where did you get all this?” I ask, gathering up everything from the bed. She’s not paying me any attention anymore, so she doesn’t get in my way.

“Degrazio.”

“You promised me no more digging on your own.” I stack the papers.

“Promised?” She laughs. “Fuck promises. Fuck everything. Nothing I did made that man like me. You know his favorite punishment was to keep Diana away from me? He didn’t just take away my toys or ground me, he kept my sister away from me. He would take her out on vacations, day trips, dinners, whatever, while I was stuck at home. Alone.”

I stare down at her. She’s losing steam. The brandy is making her tired. She’s run out of energy.

“When she died. It was my fault, I knew it, and he did too. He never let me forget it. But he didn’t let me go. Why wouldn’t he just let me leave if he hated me so much?” She lies down on the bed. “He should have just killed me.”

It’s at that my chest breaks open.

“No.” I lean over her, brushing my fingertips over her jaw. “No, Kasia. He shouldn’t have. He should have been a good father. He should have been a good man.” He will pay for the evil he’s done.

She shoves away my hand and rolls away from me. “Leave me alone, Dominik. Just leave me be.”

I stare at her back. Her breathing is calm.

“Kasia.” I touch her shoulder.

“I wish I had been in that car instead of Diana. I wish I had been the one who died.”

My jaw tightens, my heart aches. A world without Kasia? I can’t imagine it. I won’t imagine it.

“Sleep, Kasia.” I back away from the bed, taking everything DeGrazio gave her and grab her phone from the nightstand. I should move her to our room. She shouldn’t be in this room anymore, but she’s asleep now.

I turn off all the lights and step outside, closing the door behind me. Tommy and James stare at me.

“That fucker that went to the bathroom. He didn’t go to the men’s room.” I point a finger at Tommy who has the smarts to avert his gaze. It’s not his fault. Not really. There was no real danger in letting her go to the bathroom on her own. But my wife, my fucking world, is lying in that bed hurt because he didn’t stop that fucker from giving her information she didn’t need.

“Is she okay?” Tommy asks, guilt dripping from his tone.

“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s not… he didn’t hurt her. He’s the private investigator I told never to contact her again. But he did. The Kominski brothers fucking lied to me.” I close my eyes for a brief moment.

I’d finally gotten good news from my father’s attorney today. I was about to call him and arrange for him to return home, but that’s not at the forefront of my mind now.

“I want a sit down with Kominski. Not his fucking sons. Him!” I bark. I point at James. “You stay here. If she tries to leave, you call me. She can go to our bedroom or she stays in there. She goes nowhere else.”

“You got it, boss,” he says with a nod and stands right in front of the door.

Tommy hurries ahead of me, already on the phone to get the old man ready for my visit. I’m not waiting until morning. I want that fucker to tell me to my face what the fuck the deal actually was.