Dominic

An Ounce of Flesh!

Mina

"You look like her. Your mother." Papa Caino Rosselli sat in the booth across from me.

Off to the left and right of the booth, Rosselli's men, all dressed as if they had walked off the cover of Forbes magazine for best-dressed business professionals, lingered about. Some of the men sat while others stood like sentries, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

"Thanks." I held the older man's blue-eyed gaze, recalling the words my mother had used in her journals to describe them: captivating orbs that had pulled her into an abyss of forbidden lust and love. "My father kept a few pictures of her."

I wasn't sure what to say to him in the present situation, but I found myself wanting to ask questions about the past private moments of their lives together.

"What was she like back then when you knew her?"

"Juanita, Ana as I called her, was a bright, shining star in the ink of night." His eyes took on a distant stare. "Her laughter moved an entire room, and her tears of both joy and sorrow flooded the hearts and souls of all who knew her. Your mother was a fair woman with a stubborn streak when making a point, and she was slow to anger and even slower yet to forget a wrong. But to me, she remained the sweetest, and the most forbidden fruit of life. It is good to reminisce, no? But that isn't why you've asked for my ear today, now is it?"

"No." I shook my head." It's not."

"Then let us begin. Tell me what you seek: sanctuary, retribution, protection, partnership, or something else entirely?"

"For now, protection—sanctuary under the umbrella of your name, as well as some information."

"What kind of information or action do you now seek? For what purpose?"

"I require protection from my uncle and from those who seek to harm me because of who, or what, they think I am."

"Those who do evil in this world are never short of excuses," said Rosselli, "so tell me, why has your uncle placed a bounty on your head—or death if he can't have you in hand?"

His blue eyes felt as if they had cut a path to my soul, and at that moment, I felt, no, I knew, to lie to this man would most certainly sign my death warrant and that of Dominic's as well.

"He literally wants the flesh off my back and access to my father's crypto wallet."

The door to the restaurant opened, but I couldn't tell if anyone had entered. So far, the only people inside the shop other than Dominic, Rosselli, and me, were the Italian Don's men and the staff. And when it came to the restaurant workers, I wasn't entirely sure he didn't own them as well.

"I see." He steepled his finger together in front of him. "And why is this ounce of flesh valuable?"

Dominic squeezed my hand under the table as if to warn me to tread carefully.

"Because it holds a cipher that once solved," I took a sip of my tea to steel my nerves, "reveals sixteen of the seed phrases required to access the wallet."

"And has the information been confirmed in any—"

A man in a crisp, dark suit made his approach to the booth with his hair slicked back and head bowed. The Italian loafers on his feet, Berluti—a Lorenzo Scritto Venezia leather shoe like those my father used to wear—tapped against the tile floor. They easily carried a price tag of twelve hundred dollars, if not more.

My eyes darted between Rosselli and the newcomer, who stooped next to the older man. He whispered something just out of ear range, and I couldn't get a good look at his face.

"Very well." Rosselli waved the man off with the swirl of two fingers. "Stay close."

The man only nodded, rose with his back to Dominic and me, then joined one of the standing sentries.

Rosselli leveled his eyes on me. "As I was about to ask before the interruption, has the information been confirmed?"

"Yes." I nodded. "My father's recovered phone holds the first eight words, which provide a key for the ciphers on my back."

"So, you know all the seed phrases then?"

"Yes, I do." I nodded.

"And if I extend my protective arm to you, the daughter of Juanita Melchor Costa, my Ana, and keep you under my wing along with your friend, what will you do in return? Either of you?"

"I, um, I would be—"

"She and I would be eternally grateful, Sir." Dominic held Rosselli's icy cold gaze.

Something had shifted in the older man the moment the stranger had approached, and I now felt at a disadvantage. Plus, if being honest with myself, a sensation of vulnerability had set in, and I don't think I was the only one who felt it. Dominic looked more like a caged animal out of his element.

Rosselli raised his arm and snapped his fingers twice.

Within seconds, one of the sentries approached the table carrying a laptop bag. The man retrieved the electronic piece of equipment, then set the device in front of me.

"Then, Yasmina, in good faith, and to solidify this partnership of allies, you will access your father's wallet."

"But I'd need to review the content on my father's phone," I said. "And I don't have that."

Not to mention, I don't know the first fucking thing about crypto wallets or cryptocurrency, for that matter. And that was by choice because I never wanted any of this shit, which was why I had fled in the first place.

Rosselli snapped his fingers again, and the mystery man approached only this time, his robust Italian features came into view along with the recognition of his identity. Today, he wore his hair slicked back instead of loose, and he had donned a suit over jeans. And in his hand, he held a phone—Papi's phone.

"Spider." The single word left my lips with a gasp, and I swallowed hard, pushing down a bit of vomit in the back of my throat. Anger rose inside me.

"You look well, Miss Costa." Spider stood in an open stance. The butt of a weapon peeked out from under the lapel of his suit jacket.

"No thanks to you." I wanted to jump out of the booth—or my skin—or both. I wasn't sure which. "What's the meaning of this?" I directed my question to Rosselli.

"I do not understand," replied Rosselli.

"He fucking left me there—let that maniac cut me and did nothing."

"My man did as he was told," said Rosselli. "He observed." The older man paused a moment. "Tell me, did he hurt you? Strike you at any time? Did he cause you undue pain?"

"No. But he's just as guilty as the man who proceeded to flay me like a fucking fish."

"A most regrettable situation, but as stated, my man only followed orders, my orders, which were to observe, confirm the presence of the tattoo, the seed phrases, and then report back to me."

Rosselli snapped, and Spider approached.

"Relay the orders given to you, Spider," commanded Rosselli. "The instructions that were given to you after reporting Mad Dog Costa's plan for his niece, Miss Costa."

"I was to extract Miss Costa from the location and safely deliver her to you, Mr. Rosselli," said Spider. "However, the Russian got to her first." His emotionless gaze flicked to Dominic.