Chapter 2 - The Black Sedan
The air outside Beluchi’s was needle-sharp and smelled of wet asphalt.
Dominic stepped out of the brass-trimmed glass doors first, opening a large, dark umbrella over Lily and me before the cold rain could hit us. His shoulder brushed against mine, broad and warm as a furnace through the thick layers of our wool coats.
Across the street, parked beside a fire hydrant in the dim shadow of a brownstone scaffolding, sat a black Chevrolet Suburban with tinted glass and heavily rusted rims. Its engine was idling, thin trails of white exhaust rising into the freezing rain.
“Keep walking,” Dominic said quietly into my ear. His left hand rested lightly at the small of my back—not pushing, not forcing, but holding a protective anchor against the dark street.
A massive, armored Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the curb in front of us. The rear door swung open instantly, revealed by a driver dressed in a dark suit who stood under the downpour without flinching.
“In,” Dominic ordered gently.
I slid into the deep, cream-colored leather interior, pulling Lily into my lap. The cabin was warm, smelling of cedarwood and polished leather. Dominic stepped in behind us, closing the heavy door with a solid, airtight thunk that instantly cut off the sound of the Manhattan traffic and the falling rain.
The Lincoln pulled away from the curb smoothly.
I spun around, looking out the rear window. Through the rain-streaked glass, I saw the black Suburban pull out from the shadow of the scaffolding, its headlights flicking on, trailing us at a distance of three car lengths.
“Dominic,” I said, my voice rising in panic. “They’re following us.”
Dominic didn't turn around. He sat comfortably in the corner of the leather bench, unbuttoning his coat. He pressed a silver button on the door panel, and a heavy wooden privacy screen slid up, sealing us off from the driver.
“They’ve been following me since four o'clock,” Dominic said calmly. He reached into the small refrigerator built into the central armrest, retrieved a small glass bottle of sparkling water, uncapped it, and handed it to me. “Drink. Your lips are dry.”
I took the bottle with trembling hands, setting it on the cup holder without touching a drop.
“Who are they?” I demanded, keeping my voice low so as not to wake Lily, who had finally surrendered to exhaustion, her cheek pressed flat against my damp scrubs, her thumb tucked loosely near her mouth. “Is this about your... your business?”
“It is about a disagreement in the Third Ward,” Dominic said. “A local group thinks they can renegotiate a contract by tracking my movements.”
“And you brought my daughter into this?!” I hissed, my fear instantly morphing into blinding rage. “You let a five-year-old girl sit in a restaurant while men with guns were watching you?!”
Dominic turned his head slowly. The ambient streetlight flickering through the window caught the hard, angled lines of his jawbone.
“If I had not been at that table, Dr. Kelly,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, cold and precise, “your daughter would have been sitting in that restaurant alone when those men walked in looking for leverage against me. Do you know what happens to a lone child in Manhattan when desperate men realize who her mother was scheduled to meet?”
I froze.
“They didn't come for me,” I whispered, the horrific truth dawning on me. “They came for... for whoever was sitting at your table.”
“They came to see who mattered to me,” Dominic corrected. He reached out, his long fingers gently catching a stray lock of damp hair that had fallen across my eyes, tucking it behind my ear with surprising tenderness. “They saw me buy a five-year-old girl hot chocolate. They saw me carry her stuffed rabbit. In their eyes, you and Lily are already marked.”
“No,” I breathed, pulling back from his touch as if his hand were made of fire. “No, no, no. I am a doctor. I work seventy hours a week. I don't have part in this world! I don't know who you are!”
“They don't care about your resume, Nora,” Dominic said softly. “They care about my reaction.”
He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a encrypted smartphone, and swiped the screen twice.
“Geno,” Dominic spoke into the speaker. “The Suburban behind us. Clear it.”
Over the phone speaker, a flat, harsh voice replied, “Understood, Boss. Five seconds.”
Through the rear window of the Lincoln, I watched in stunned horror as two heavy delivery vans suddenly swung out from side alleys on Fifty-Fourth Street. They moved with terrifying mathematical precision, cutting off the black Suburban in a crushing, steel sandwich right in the middle of the intersection. The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass barely reached through the insulated windows of our car.
The Lincoln didn't even slow down. It turned smoothly onto Fifth Avenue, leaving the wreckage behind in the storm.
My hands were shaking so violently I had to press them against my knees.
“You... you killed them?” I choked out.
“My men know how to disable a vehicle without setting off airbags,” Dominic said smoothly, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “They will be detained for twenty-four hours in a basement in Queens until they explain who authorized them to trail my evening. You are safe.”
“Safe?” I echoed, laughing hysterically under my breath. “I’m in an armored car with a mob boss who just orchestrated a highway ramming while my five-year-old sleeps in my lap! This is not safe!”
Dominic leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, bringing his face inches from mine. The scent of his expensive soap and cold rain washed over me, completely overwhelming my senses.
“You were not safe the moment you accepted a blind date with my name on the card, Nora,” he whispered, his hazel eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my heart hammer against my ribs. “But as long as you are inside this car, as long as my mark is on you... no one in this city will ever lay a finger on you or your daughter again. I give you my word.”
“Your word?” I whispered back, my voice trembling. “Why should I trust the word of a murderer?”
May you like
Dominic looked down at Lily’s small, sleeping face, then back up at me.
“Because,” he said softly, “your daughter told me you like white lilies, you hate cold coffee, and you haven't had a full night’s sleep since your husband died three years ago. And I intend to make sure you get one tonight.”
