Surrendering to the Don's Dark Desires - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
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The leather couches in my penthouse groan under the weight of my men as Cristiano delivers his report. "Prisoners are locked down in the cellar."
I'd barely made it home before swallowing three painkillers chased by bourbon, then scoured the alley's filth from my skin under water hot enough to burn. Now I stand framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, watching moonlight shatter against the churning ocean below. The rhythmic pounding of waves against the cliffs vibrates through the glass.
Lorenzo leans forward, whiskey glass turning his knuckles white. "This wasn't some random ambush, Dom." His voice drops. "You should be dead."
"Nobody brought weapons," I counter, rolling stiff shoulders as I turn to face my inner circle. "They weren't sent to kill."
"A message then," Alessandro murmurs, fingers tracing his trimmed beard. "But what's the play? What do they gain?"
I tilt my head. "What does any rival faction want from the heir apparent?"
"Territory. Control." Lorenzo ticks off possibilities. "Your head on a silver platter?"
Gabriel strokes his chin. "Could be they don't like you consolidating power. But why move now?"
Matteo emerges from the wet bar with a bottle of Macallan, pouring generous fingers into crystal tumblers. He brings me one with a wolf's grin. "To your health, fratello." Our glasses clink. "They underestimated your blade work. Meant to intimidate, but now?" A dark chuckle. "Now they're the ones losing sleep."
The whiskey's smoky burn coats my throat. "Accurate assessment." Moving to the seating area, I note Marco standing guard by the entrance, arms crossed over his Kevlar vest. "Triple security at all operations." My gaze sweeps the room. "This won't be their last attempt."
"Already handled," Matteo nods. "We're assigning extra protection—"
"No." Cristiano's scowl deepens. "You nearly died tonight because you dismissed your detail."
"And I walked away."
"Next time you might not."
"There won't be a next time." My jaw tightens. I'd been distracted—consumed by visions of her. That phantom woman haunting my dreams. A dangerous weakness I can't afford.
Matteo studies me. "Since when does Dominic Vittorio wander alone at night? You're never careless."
I massage my temple. That's the problem—I had been. Preoccupied with impossible fantasies. Whoever she is, she exists only in my mind. And if by some miracle she's real? I'd have to cut her from my system the only way possible. The thought of anyone else leaves me cold. Christ, I need to purge this obsession before it gets me killed.
"A momentary lapse." I square my shoulders. "One I won't repeat."
"If you'd been focused, they'd never have gotten close." The voice slices through the room like a stiletto.
Every muscle coils as Don Vittorio strides in. Marco offers an apologetic shrug before exiting at my nod. Even after decades, the sight of him ignites primal rage. I force my breathing steady. "Don Vittorio. To what do we owe this... pleasure?"
"Can't a father visit his sons?" His gaze sweeps the room. Matteo's posture turns to stone. Lorenzo's fist clenches. Alessandro's glass threatens to shatter. Only Raphael remains unaffected—the peacemaker among wolves. We share blood but couldn't be more different in our tastes—women, pleasures, life itself. Raphael channels his demons onto canvas rather than into violence. The only one who doesn't seethe with hatred for the man who sired us.
He rises gracefully, towering over our father at 6'4". "Padre." He kisses both cheeks. "What a surprise."
"Raphael." The Don grips his shoulders. "The family business agrees with you."
Raphael's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "You know I'm here for the studio access. The... extracurricular benefits are just perks."
Alessandro stands. "Without Raphael's artistic cover, we'd never—"
"Enough!" The Don waves a dismissive hand. "I didn't come for a status report." Alessandro's eyes flash.
I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Clearly Father has other priorities tonight," I say smoothly, meeting the Don's challenging stare. I know that look—it's the one I see in the mirror.
"Perceptive as ever." His lips twist into something resembling a smile. "Now, clear the room."
"Like hell," Cristiano snaps. "If this concerns the family—"
"I came to speak with the Capo."
"You said you came to see your sons."
"And I have." He jerks his chin toward the door. "Out."
Matteo locks eyes with me. "You good?"
At my nod, he herds the others out. Cristiano lingers. "Go," I order. "The Don's word is law."
He hesitates, then mutters, "You'd better debrief us after."
"I'll share what's necessary." My tone brokers no argument. "Now leave."
I'd barely made it home before swallowing three painkillers chased by bourbon, then scoured the alley's filth from my skin under water hot enough to burn. Now I stand framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, watching moonlight shatter against the churning ocean below. The rhythmic pounding of waves against the cliffs vibrates through the glass.
Lorenzo leans forward, whiskey glass turning his knuckles white. "This wasn't some random ambush, Dom." His voice drops. "You should be dead."
"Nobody brought weapons," I counter, rolling stiff shoulders as I turn to face my inner circle. "They weren't sent to kill."
"A message then," Alessandro murmurs, fingers tracing his trimmed beard. "But what's the play? What do they gain?"
I tilt my head. "What does any rival faction want from the heir apparent?"
"Territory. Control." Lorenzo ticks off possibilities. "Your head on a silver platter?"
Gabriel strokes his chin. "Could be they don't like you consolidating power. But why move now?"
Matteo emerges from the wet bar with a bottle of Macallan, pouring generous fingers into crystal tumblers. He brings me one with a wolf's grin. "To your health, fratello." Our glasses clink. "They underestimated your blade work. Meant to intimidate, but now?" A dark chuckle. "Now they're the ones losing sleep."
The whiskey's smoky burn coats my throat. "Accurate assessment." Moving to the seating area, I note Marco standing guard by the entrance, arms crossed over his Kevlar vest. "Triple security at all operations." My gaze sweeps the room. "This won't be their last attempt."
"Already handled," Matteo nods. "We're assigning extra protection—"
"No." Cristiano's scowl deepens. "You nearly died tonight because you dismissed your detail."
"And I walked away."
"Next time you might not."
"There won't be a next time." My jaw tightens. I'd been distracted—consumed by visions of her. That phantom woman haunting my dreams. A dangerous weakness I can't afford.
Matteo studies me. "Since when does Dominic Vittorio wander alone at night? You're never careless."
I massage my temple. That's the problem—I had been. Preoccupied with impossible fantasies. Whoever she is, she exists only in my mind. And if by some miracle she's real? I'd have to cut her from my system the only way possible. The thought of anyone else leaves me cold. Christ, I need to purge this obsession before it gets me killed.
"A momentary lapse." I square my shoulders. "One I won't repeat."
"If you'd been focused, they'd never have gotten close." The voice slices through the room like a stiletto.
Every muscle coils as Don Vittorio strides in. Marco offers an apologetic shrug before exiting at my nod. Even after decades, the sight of him ignites primal rage. I force my breathing steady. "Don Vittorio. To what do we owe this... pleasure?"
"Can't a father visit his sons?" His gaze sweeps the room. Matteo's posture turns to stone. Lorenzo's fist clenches. Alessandro's glass threatens to shatter. Only Raphael remains unaffected—the peacemaker among wolves. We share blood but couldn't be more different in our tastes—women, pleasures, life itself. Raphael channels his demons onto canvas rather than into violence. The only one who doesn't seethe with hatred for the man who sired us.
He rises gracefully, towering over our father at 6'4". "Padre." He kisses both cheeks. "What a surprise."
"Raphael." The Don grips his shoulders. "The family business agrees with you."
Raphael's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "You know I'm here for the studio access. The... extracurricular benefits are just perks."
Alessandro stands. "Without Raphael's artistic cover, we'd never—"
"Enough!" The Don waves a dismissive hand. "I didn't come for a status report." Alessandro's eyes flash.
I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Clearly Father has other priorities tonight," I say smoothly, meeting the Don's challenging stare. I know that look—it's the one I see in the mirror.
"Perceptive as ever." His lips twist into something resembling a smile. "Now, clear the room."
"Like hell," Cristiano snaps. "If this concerns the family—"
"I came to speak with the Capo."
"You said you came to see your sons."
"And I have." He jerks his chin toward the door. "Out."
Matteo locks eyes with me. "You good?"
At my nod, he herds the others out. Cristiano lingers. "Go," I order. "The Don's word is law."
He hesitates, then mutters, "You'd better debrief us after."
"I'll share what's necessary." My tone brokers no argument. "Now leave."
End of Surrendering to the Don's Dark Desires Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to Surrendering to the Don's Dark Desires book page.