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One

23 years later…

Jackson held his gaze on Dominic.

“The money is stored inside a canvas painting across the city at Galleria Grigia,” Dominic said. He flicked his lighter, lighting the joint between his fingers, and inhaled deeply. He sat in the oversized chair, draping his right leg over his knee. He exhaled as he met Jackson’s gaze. “Under the name Christian Sinclair. Should be easy enough for your boys to pick up, yes?” He pointed the joint towards Jackson as his dark, ratted hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll need your attention on a more delicate matter in the meantime.”

”Fine,” Jackson said simply.

Dominic smiled and took a moment to take a long drag from the joint, holding his gaze on Jackson. “It involves Walter.”

Jackson’s brows furrowed fiercely. “I’m not getting involved with Walter. You know that.”

“This is Walter’s proposition, not mine,” Dominic explained.

Jackson raised a brow. “What does he want with me? Besides killing me?”

Dominic’s smile grew slightly at the corner. “He wouldn’t say, though I suspect it has to do with that daughter of his.”

Jackson pursed his lips and stared blankly at Dominic. “Come on,” he started. “It can’t be that simple.”

”Does your father-in-law scare you, Jacky?”

Jackson rolled his eyes and pulled his gaze away from Dominic. “He doesn’t,” Jackson started. “But as one of the city’s biggest mafia families and your favorite person, I doubt this is just a casual discussion between family members.”

”Of course he has other motives,” Dominic said obviously. “Who better to beat him at his own game?”

”I have no intentions on killing Walter,” Jackson growled. “I’ve more than made myself clear on -“

”Yes, yes,” Dominic cut him off, waving his joint at him dismissively. “Look. I’m only the messenger here. But we both know that this could be one of hundreds of possibilities. Do what you do best, Jackson. Figure it out. Use this to our advantage.” He shrugged. “He’s an old fool. Perhaps all he wants is one last chance to get his daughter back.” He met Jackson’s gaze. “You know she would be safest with him.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Jackson’s gaze hardened. “Walter’s empire is crumbling,” he said fiercely. “He has nothing left, including his daughter.”

”And when that time comes, whose side will you be on? We’ve been at war for hundreds of years, Jackson. I will be the one to end that war. I will be the one to come out victorious. Whether you pull the trigger or not, Walter’s time is at an end. Remember that. Figure out what side of history you want to be on.”

Jackson held his gaze on Dominic a moment longer, then wordlessly turned and left him alone in his office.

Dominic watched Jackson leave, the door closing behind him, and he stared at the door for a moment. He inhaled his joint one last time, then set it on the ashtray on his desk. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip, and he reached toward the cell phone on his desk. The screen came to life and he dialed a number. It rang once before a gruff voice answered.

”Yeah.”

”The painting will be picked up tonight,” Dominic said. “Jackson’s boys; Shawn and Deacon.”

”And what about my money?”

”Have some patience, Javier,” Dominic said condescendingly. “I’m a man of my word.”

”Your boys are picking up my money,” Javier reminded him sharply. “Walter paid me that money to kill Jackson.”

“And you chose to go against Walter,” Dominic gently reminded him. “You chose the winning team. Don’t forget, you wanted a place in this city; a new start for your business. Walter won’t give you that. He has no control over this business anymore. All he cares about is his daughter. His legacy is dying. He has nothing left. Killing Jackson is his final desperate act as a mafia boss in this city, one that he thinks would crumble me. But my legacy is only just beginning.”

Javier simply grunted into the phone.

”Make Walter think he owns you. Make him think you’re going to kill Jackson. Keep providing me intel, and I promise you will rise to take his place in this city.” Without another word, he ended the call.

He tucked his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket, then stood, leaving the office. He strode down the corridor, joint between his lips, and out through the back where several of his men were gathered around a table, smoking and drinking.

“Emmet,” Dominic snapped.

Emmet looked up from the cards in his hands, an annoyed sneer pulling at his lips. He dropped the cards face up and stood abruptly.

”Fuck you,” he snapped at one of the other men before stepping away. He turned to Dominic. “What?”

Dominic pointed his knife at him in warning. “Jackson’s boys got Javier’s money,” he said. “He and his boys will be working with us for now.” He smiled. “Show him a good time. Make him feel like we’re partners. Best of friends, hm?”

The corner of Emmet’s lip pulled into a toothy, sinister grin. ”And then?”

”And then we kill him,” Dominic replied in an obvious tone. “We’ve already got three families trying to stake their claim into this city. Javier thinks we’re weak, too busy warring with one another. It’s time we snuff him out before he can interfere any further.”