Chapter Four

Dom

The whiskey tastes bitter tonight.

I roll the glass between my fingers, watching the amber liquid as her words echo in my head: You think I don't know what you did to him?

Riley Wilder. The name shouldn't matter to me. She shouldn't matter to me. But there's something about her, something that feels like a warning shot fired too close to the chest.

Her voice had trembled with anger, her eyes burning with a fire that isn't easily extinguished. She isn't the first person to come looking for answers—or revenge—but she's the first in a long time who didn't flinch when I stood up.

That makes her dangerous.

I set the glass down and lean back in my chair, staring at the space where she'd stood just hours ago. Riley stormed out like she thought she'd won something. Like the warning I gave her wasn't a death sentence.

"She's going to be a problem," Luca says from the corner of the room, breaking the silence.

He isn't wrong. Riley Wilder is a problem—a stubborn, reckless problem who doesn't seem to understand how this world works.

"She's not the first person to come looking for answers," I say, keeping my voice calm.

"And she won't be the last," Luca adds, crossing his arms.

"No." I nod, my gaze drifting back to the window. "But she's different."

Luca frowns, the scar above his eyebrow deepening. "You think she's working with someone?"

"Maybe, maybe not." My fingers drum against the desk, each tap measured. "But she's desperate enough to find someone who will."

Desperation is a double-edged sword. It makes people dangerous, yes, but it also makes them predictable. And predictable people? They're the easiest to control.

"You want me to keep an eye on her?" Luca offers, his voice low.

I shake my head. "No. Let her run for now. She'll either figure out she's out of her depth or push herself too far."

"And if she comes back?"

I smirk, though the bitterness hasn't left my mouth. "Then we'll remind her why people don't come looking for me."

Luca watches me for a moment, then nods, satisfied. He leaves the room without another word.

I stand and walk to the window, watching the city sprawl out before me like a living thing. Boston. It's beautiful from up here, a glittering maze of ambition and decay. But I know the truth. This city isn't alive; it's a corpse wearing makeup, and I carved my name into its rotting flesh with blood and betrayal.

Liam Wilder knew that. He thought he could play in my world, dip his hands into my pockets, and walk away clean. He was wrong.

Riley, though? She doesn't understand. She thinks this is a game she can win. She doesn't see the traps, the nooses waiting to tighten. And she doesn't know that Liam's mistakes didn't end with him. If she keeps digging, she'll uncover things that should stay buried. Things that will destroy her.

A sharp knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I say, my tone clipped.

Luca steps back in, his expression grim. He's always grim, but right now there's something darker in his eyes.

"We have a problem."

My jaw tightens, and I force myself to stay calm. "What kind of problem?"

"The shipment."

I don't need to ask which shipment he's talking about. There's only one that matters right now.

"Someone leaked the location to the Feds," he continues.

I take a slow breath. "And?"

"They seized it," Luca says. "Took everything."

The room goes silent, the air heavy with tension. That shipment wasn't just important—it was critical. A show of strength to the Russians, proof that I could deliver on my promises.

And now, it's gone.

"Do you know who leaked the information?" I ask.

"Not yet," Luca admits. "But I've got men on it."

I nod, though the knot in my chest tightens. This isn't just about the shipment. It's about what it represents. To the Russians, to my men, to anyone who dares to challenge me.

"Find out who did it," I say, each word like a blade. "And when you do, make sure they understand the consequences."

Luca doesn't flinch. "Understood."

"And the Russians?"

"They'll know by morning," he says.

I pick up my glass, swirling the whiskey once more. "Then let them come. I'll deal with it."

Luca hesitates, then nods and leaves the room. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and the silence that follows feels heavier than it should.