Page 47 of Filthy Dirty Dom
He would not fail her again.
The hotel’s landline phone rang, and Alex narrowed his eyes. Was it just the front desk calling with some kind of question about their check-in or bill? Careful not to disturb Leslie, he retreated into the living room to answer the phone.
"Alex, It's Luca."
Shock reverberated through him and his grip tightened on the phone, his knuckles white. The world seemed to narrow so that all his senses homed in on that voice.
Luca.
As in Luca Marino.
A name he hadn't spoken in almost a decade. A name synonymous with his past life, a world filled with shadows and secrets, blood and betrayal. It was a world he had fled, had fought tooth and nail to stay away from. Yet now, it was ominously creeping back, reaching for him with tendrils of past deeds and consequences.
Tonight, of all nights, Luca chose to reach out. There was no way it was a coincidence. The implications of this call, the potential for disaster, swirled in his mind like a tornado. His past was no longer merely knocking on his door; it had blown it off its hinges and was marching in, uninvited and unwelcome.
"Alex?" Luca's voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Luca’s voice had always been like a sharpened blade, icy and cutting. Only one other time had it been different. And just like then, there was a hint of concern in Luca’s tone now.
With his heart hammering like a war drum, Alex braced himself for what was coming. He could have asked Luca how he’d known where to find them, but that would have been a waste of time.
Luca owned this city.
Alex’s past and present were about to collide in a twisted game of fate.
And he had the front-row ticket to the spectacular disaster that was about to unfold.
"Tell me," he said.
The silence stretched on the other end of the line, making his skin prickle. Alex could almost hear the wheels turning in Luca's mind, each second ticking by a test of his frayed patience.
"The men you killed tonight," Luca began, and Alex felt his pulse quicken. "One of them was the son of a high-ranking officer in the Bratva."
Alex's grip on the phone tightened. Bratva. The Russian mob. A sick sense of realization began to spread through him. "And they think Leslie was my..." He couldn't finish the sentence, his throat constricting around the words.
"Girlfriend. It appears that way, yes."
Ice cold dread washed over Alex. He'd known the night had been about him, but the news that the Bratva was involved brought an entirely new level of danger into play.
"Is this connected to Mia?"
There was another pause on the other end of the line, long enough for Alex's heart to pound a staccato rhythm.
"No evidence of it being connected, but it stirred up a storm, Alex. A storm that’s making its way across all the families."
Families.
Not families in the domestic, ordinary sense, but families, as in the organized crime families. Alex had hoped to never be involved with them again, but the past seemed to have a cruel way of dragging one back.
"No evidence is one thing, Luca. What about any hint as to why they would target her? Is there a connection to her family?"
"I don't have those answers, Alex. Not yet. But I'm digging. Digging deep."
"Why?" The question was more an accusation than a query. Luca shouldn’t have a stake in all this unless…
As if Luca cold read his mind, a bitter laugh echoed from the other end of the line. “This isn’t about me or my family, Alex. In fact, I have a tenuous cease fire in place with the Bratva that I sure as hell don’t want to jeopardize. But I’ve kept eyes on you, just as I said I would, and now you've been pulled back into the vortex. And this woman, Leslie Duke, she's part of it now. She means something to you?"
"Yes." The word felt like a declaration, a commitment spoken into existence, binding him to a path he couldn't yet see.
Luca sighed. "Then that's reason enough for me to lend you a hand."