My Family Sold Me To The Don. Too Bad He Was My Dog All Along Chapter 08
Seamus swallowed hard. “Daniel… Daniel Reagan.”
“What does he do?”
“NYPD. Homicide detective.”
Seamus was talking fast, trying to earn some points.
“Makes a little over a hundred grand. No car. Lives in some rundown apartment in Queens. Takes the subway to work.”
“Don, he’s a nobody cop. Not even fit to shine your shoes. Luciana just—she lost her mind for a second there.”
Enzo dropped his gaze.
He looked at his own hands. Long fingers. Defined knuckles.
The same hands that had signed a hundred death warrants. The same hands that controlled most of New York’s underground economy.
A hundred-grand-a-year cop.
Some homicide detective from Queens.
Enzo laughed.
It came from deep in his chest. Echoed down the empty hallway. Made your skin crawl.
“Vito.”
Vito scrambled over. “Don.”
“Look into this Daniel Reagan.”
Enzo’s smile disappeared. His eyes went dead.
“By sunrise, I want him ruined. Fired from NYPD. Nowhere to go in this city. Nowhere.”
Vito flinched. “Yes, Don.”
Inside the med bay.
The medical team was prepped. Corbin rushed in with his bag, sweating. He’d just gotten off a plane. Still in his travel clothes.
“Ms. Romano. Forgive me.”
Corbin saw the cuts on my face and sucked in a breath. Deep wounds. But they’d missed the important nerves.
I sat on the couch and looked at myself in the mirror. Blood on the black dress. Pale face.
“No anesthetic,” I said.
Corbin blinked. “Ms. Romano, this is going to hurt.”
“Stitch it.”
I closed my eyes.
The needle went through my skin. I felt every inch of it. Didn’t make a sound.
This was nothing. Compared to the years I spent fighting underground to support Seamus, this was nothing.
The door opened. Enzo walked in.
He stopped three feet away and watched Corbin work. Jaw tight.
“Why no anesthetic?” he asked.
“So you remember.”
I opened my eyes. Looked past Corbin at Enzo.
“Your dog bit me. The pain’s on your tab.”
Enzo’s throat moved. He stepped closer, voice rough.
“I already dealt with Camilla.”
“Not enough.”
“What else do you want from me?”
His voice cracked. His eyes were red again.
“You want my life? Fine. Take it.”
He pulled a black Browning from his jacket and slammed it on the glass table. The impact made Corbin flinch. He almost missed the stitch.
I glanced at the gun. Smirked.
“What would I do with your life? Too messy.”
Enzo swayed. Braced himself on the table, staring at me.
“Daniel Reagan. A cop on a salary. You married that piece of trash instead of coming back to me?”
“He’s not trash.”
I held his gaze.
“He makes me coffee every morning. Knows I don’t take sugar.”
“He remembers my shift schedule. Packs my lunch.”
“He waits for me outside the station when I work late.”
I paused. Let the temperature drop.
“And he doesn’t keep a pack of rabid dogs around to tear me apart.”
Enzo went pale. He straightened up, eyes wild.
“You’re mocking me, Luciana.”
“I could give you New York. The whole underworld. Make you the most powerful Donna in the city.”
“And what can he give you? A shitty apartment?”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
I leaned back into the couch.
“Enzo. Have you forgotten who gave you everything you have?”