Chapter Two

Dom

Power comes with a price.

I learned that lesson young, the day I watched my father bleed out in front of me. He always said that power wasn't something you were born with—it was something you took. Something you earned. He died proving it, his blood staining the floors of this very office.

Now, it's mine.

I stand, moving to the window that overlooks the city. The lights stretch out endlessly, a reminder of everything I've built. Everything I've taken. From the penthouse balcony of the Callahan Tower, it feels like I own it all. Every street. Every corner. Every life that runs through this city. It's a lie, of course. Control is an illusion, even for someone like me. But the lie keeps me going.

"Dominic."

The voice behind me pulls me back. I glance over my shoulder to see my younger brother, Sean leaning against the sliding glass door. His black suit is perfectly pressed, but his tie is loosened, and his drink is half-empty.

"You're late," I say, turning back to the city.

"Had to deal with a mess downtown," he replies. "Liam's sister showed up at Raven's tonight."

The ice in my glass clinks as I swirl my whiskey. I take a slow sip, keeping my expression neutral. "Did she now?"

"She was asking questions. Poking around." Sean steps closer, his voice quieter now. "She caught Cole's attention."

Cole. I make a mental note to deal with him later. He's useful, but he's a wildcard—a man who walks the line between ally and liability. If he's involved, this girl's already been noticed by too many people.

"And?"

"And she left without getting what she came for. But she didn't leave quietly." Sean leans on the balcony railing, his sharp green eyes watching me. "What do you want to do about her?"

I don't answer right away. Riley Wilder. I remember the name. It came up when we dealt with Liam—her older brother. Liam was reckless, a gambler who didn't know when to walk away from the table. He owed money to half the city and thought working for me would save him. It didn't.

"Let her be," I say finally. "For now."

Sean raises an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"She's no threat."

"But she's looking for one."

I finish my drink and set the glass down with a soft clink. "And she won't find it."

Sean doesn't argue, but I can feel his unease. He's always been the cautious one. It's why I keep him close, even if his hesitation sometimes grates on me.

"She's a distraction," I add. "And I have bigger problems to deal with."

Like the Russians.

I've worked hard to build the Callahan name into what it is today. My father might have laid the foundation, but I built the empire. I made the deals, forged the alliances, and crushed the rivals who tried to stand in my way. But the Russians are different. They're not just rivals—they're opportunists. And lately, they've been sniffing around my territory like vultures circling a carcass.

Sean shifts beside me, his unease palpable. "You're meeting with Alexei tomorrow, right?"

I nod. Alexei Ivanov, the second-in-command of the Bratva, is slippery and shrewd. We've met before, and every conversation with him feels like a chess game where the board is rigged.

"Be careful with him," Sean says. "He's looking for a weakness."

"So am I," I reply, my voice cold.

Sean opens his mouth to say something else, but he's interrupted by a knock on the glass door. Luca steps onto the balcony.

His bulky frame, scarred knuckles, and the crooked line of his nose make him look like a man who fights first and asks questions later. But looks can be deceiving. Luca isn't just a brawler; he's a strategist, the kind of man who sees ten moves ahead while everyone else is still deciding on their next step. He's one of the few people I trust to get things done without asking why.

"We've got a problem," Luca says without preamble.

Sean sighs. "Of course we do."

Luca ignores him, his focus on me. "It's about Liam's sister."

I tense, my mind already racing. "What about her?"

"She's not just asking questions," Luca continues. "She's digging into Liam's debts. She's got a list of names, Dom. Names that connect back to us."

I take a slow, measured breath. This changes things. If Riley's poking around my operation, it's only a matter of time before she stumbles onto something she shouldn't.

"Where is she now?" I ask.

"Back in Southie, as far as we know," Luca replies. "But she's not going to stop, Dom. She's too close."

Sean shifts uneasily beside me. "What do you want to do?"

For a moment, I let silence fill the space between us. I've built my empire by making hard decisions, by knowing when to act and when to wait. But this isn't just about Riley. It's about the message it sends to anyone else who thinks they can challenge me.

"Bring her in," I say finally.

Sean's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't argue.

"And make sure she's handled carefully," I add, my voice low and dangerous. "I don't want a mess. Not with the Russians watching."

Sean waits until Luca leaves before speaking. "Are you going to…" He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to. Sean always assumes the worst of me, and sometimes, I let him. It's easier that way—easier for him to think I am a monster.

But this time, I'm not in the mood for his assumptions.

"I'm just going to warn her," I reply evenly. "And hope she's smart enough to listen."

I turn back to the city, my mind already moving to the next step. Riley Wilder is a complication I don't need right now, but if there's one thing I've learned in this business, it's how to turn complications into opportunities.