The Sacrificial Lamb (46 page)

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Authors: Elle Fiore

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: The Sacrificial Lamb
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“So? Are you going to help him?” she demanded.

“Lexi…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about him
saving
my
life!
Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Alex,” Shane interjected, “he was just doing his job.”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped, whipping her head around to look at Shane. He glanced over her head at her father, his brows drawn together, and shrugged as they shared a look. Alex turned back to her father, suddenly feeling like a lead weight was in her stomach. “Dad? What is he talking about?”

“He didn’t tell you?” her father asked. He was also frowning, and she felt like screaming at them both.

“Tell me
what?”

“Alex, Domenic D’Angelo was working undercover as a Special Agent with the FBI.”

32

T
HE
C
OP
D
RAGGED
D
OMENIC
into the police station. As soon as they entered, two U.S. marshals flashed their badges and walked up to him.

“You have to come with us, Mr. D’Angelo.”

Domenic nodded briefly and gestured toward the handcuffs.

“Please remove the handcuffs,” the marshal said to the cop standing off to the side.

“Are you kidding? This guy just killed four people!”

“Remove the handcuffs, officer.”

“You can’t do this! He’s in our jurisdiction!”

“I’m afraid we can,” the marshal said, drawing himself up to full height and leaning forward. “Remove. The. Cuffs.”

Domenic smirked at the cop and knew that if he could, the asshole would belt him one. Turning around, he waggled his hands, provoking him. The cop cursed under his breath as he undid the cuffs and removed them. Domenic rubbed at his wrists where the metal had chaffed him, and leveled a look at the cop. It wouldn’t have been right to pound his head into the ground, which was what he wanted to do. The man had just been doing his job, after all, if a little overzealously.

One of the marshals took a good look at him and shook his head. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

Domenic shrugged at him, nonchalant.

They entered a private room where a doctor was waiting to stitch up Domenic’s face. In all the excitement, he had barely felt the gash in his cheek until the doctor on call started poking and prodding it. She gave him a local anesthetic to numb the area and commenced the long task of sewing him up. Domenic lost track of how many stitches were put in.

While he sat there, he thought of Alex and hoped she was okay. She would be en route right now to a safe house guarded by the U.S marshals. It should be relatively easy to find her location, but would she want to see him once she learned the truth? Eventually she would find out his real profession and know that he’d been lying to her all this time.

Domenic had wanted to tell her about his undercover status, but it was too much of a liability. He had already risked everything by taking her from the Liseni. His one saving grace was that they had been scant weeks from taking all the information he had gathered on the Liseni and making it public. They’d had everything they needed to make a solid case and bring down all the major players when John Montgomery witnessed Santino’s murder, causing Alex’s abduction and forcing Domenic’s hand.

So many times he’d wanted to come clean but couldn’t. He had told Alex about his life and all of it was indeed the truth. He’d just omitted the part where he had offered his services to the FBI. It was a pretty big omission of truth but necessary.

No one knew he was working undercover, not even his family. To everyone in the outside world, he was a member of the Liseni, and that was the way it was supposed to be. His job had been to get as close to Carlo and the main operation of the business as possible. It had taken a long time to build enough trust to be brought into the inner circle, but he had finally made it. From there he gathered all the intelligence needed to seal the fate of Carlo, his scum sucking brothers, and the entire Liseni army.

Why had Alex come into his life now of all times? Domenic had wondered that often while they were together but never came up with a satisfactory answer. He regretted not telling her the truth. He had been hoping to do so on his own terms. The plan had been to let Alex know before handing her over to Russell. That way she would be in protective custody, and she would know that they could be reunited again. She would have been upset for not being told earlier, but at least he would have had a chance to let her know it was for her own protection. He had also wanted to tell her how he felt about her with hopes that it would soften the blow. Now that plan had been shot out of the water with the unexpected arrival of the Liseni.

Who knew what would happen now? Domenic had to go back and face his superiors for his defection since it hadn’t been protocol. Only Russell serving as a liaison had kept the FBI from mounting a full out search for them, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any consequences for his actions. He’d likely be slapped with a suspension for insubordination, but if that meant Alex had been kept safe, then he’d gladly serve it.

When the doctor finished suturing his cheek, Domenic left with the two marshals to begin the long drive back to Chicago. With any luck, Carlo would have no idea what had just happened. They hadn’t come to Hamlin Lake just by chance—Domenic had known the local police would not be on Carlo’s payroll. Too small time and too far away for him to bother. The local enforcement wouldn’t be privy to his status as an undercover agent, and the marshals absconded with him quickly enough to avoid any reports being filed. The FBI would take care of the rest.

As far as Carlo Commisso knew, Alexis Montgomery and Domenic D’Angelo were still missing. Of course the disappearance of his four men would raise a red flag, but by the time he figured out something was wrong, it would be too late.

The drive back to Chicago seemed to take forever, but in actuality they made good time. They arrived at one of the safe houses, and he exited the SUV. When Domenic walked into the apartment, a tall, auburn haired woman was standing in the middle of the room. She turned to look at him, and he frowned as she stepped in his direction.

“Special Agent D’Angelo? I’m Special Agent Fiona O’Malley.” She put out a slender hand and shook his in a firm grip.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied formally.

Domenic had heard of Fiona O’Malley. She and her two younger sisters had joined the FBI shortly after him and had caused quite a stir. They were nicknamed Charlie’s Angels—but never to their faces—those women kicked ass.

“Max Halliday sent me to debrief you until he has a chance to get here.”

“I have nothing to say,” he replied coolly.

“I think you do. How about we start with why you disobeyed a direct order by taking Alexis Montgomery and disappearing for two weeks?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business,” he growled menacingly.

“Max disagrees.”

“Then he can ask me himself.”

“Do you have any idea how close you came to jeopardizing this entire case?”

“Listen, lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but don’t preach to me about jeopardizing my case. I’m the one who spent the last four years dealing with the scum of the earth. I’m the one who risked my life and my family every single fucking day while kissing the ass of that psychopath, Commisso. But I wasn’t about to sit back and see an innocent girl get murdered!”

Fiona held up her hands in a gesture of surrender and took a slight step back, eyebrows raised. During his small tirade, Domenic had clenched his fists and was leaning forward dangerously. With some effort, he uncurled his fingers and straightened up. Exhaling sharply, he turned away from Fiona and drew his hands down his face. He winced. He had forgotten about his newly stitched up cheek, and the anesthetic had almost worn off.

Domenic walked toward the couch and took a seat. He would have loved nothing more than to take a hot shower and change out of his bloody clothing. That wouldn’t be happening any time soon. Fiona took a seat opposite him and crossed her graceful legs. She eyed him up and down for a moment, pursing her lips.

“You know Max isn’t going to back down that easy, right?”

“At this point, I couldn’t give a shit.”

Fiona just looked at him and shook her head.

“Where’s Alex?” Domenic demanded.

“She’s safe with her father and boyfriend,” she replied.

His heart sank at the mention of Alex’s boyfriend.

“Why do you want to know?” Fiona asked. “Your job is over now.”

“She wasn’t a job,” he managed to get out between clenched teeth, glaring at Fiona.

“Oh,” she replied meaningfully, cocking her head to one side and gazing at him in a disconcerting way. At this point, he wished she were a man so he could knock her lights out. So much had been said in that one small word, and Domenic felt as if his chest lay open with Alex’s name emblazoned across his heart.

“Think I can get some clothes?” he asked, switching the subject.

“Sure. I’ll make arrangements,” she replied, getting up and leaving the apartment.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Domenic prowled the place restlessly. It was a standard safe house, no extras, just somewhere to stay until they figured out where to ship you off to. His situation was different since in his line of work, he would stay around to help collar the men in the Liseni. A task force would be formed, headed by him—if he wasn’t suspended—and they would clean it all up. Carlo and his brothers were going to prison, Sal and Tony were already dead, Junior would squeal like a stuck pig and most likely be offered a position in the FBI—they were always looking for hackers of his skill. There were about ten other big players and evidence enough to put them all away for a long time.

It wouldn’t be long before Carlo figured out what role Domenic had played in all of this, and he smirked at the knowledge. He would give all the money in the world to be able to witness Carlo’s face when he found out that his right hand man and successor to the Liseni empire, was in actuality a federal operative. Not quite as good as sticking that knife into his heart like Domenic had wanted but close enough. He supposed if he couldn’t do it literally, figuratively would have to do.

Just a few more weeks, and he could have gotten his wish. Right before bringing down the works, Domenic would have killed Carlo and told him who he was as the life force drained from his body. Of course he would have had to make it look like a case of self-defense, but that would have been easy enough. There might have been a halfhearted investigation, but Domenic doubted it would have been looked into too closely.

Perhaps he should have been relieved that things ended like this instead, but he wasn’t. He had been burning with thoughts of vengeance for almost half his life, and now that it had been taken away, he felt strangely hollow and dissatisfied. It hadn’t occurred to Domenic before that he should feel any remorse for his actions. Living so deep undercover had made him more animal than man. He was more like the men he despised than he would have liked to admit.

Fiona came back and tossed him some sweats and a T-shirt. Domenic thanked her and went to the bathroom to peel out of his blood encrusted clothes and take a shower. Placing his head under the spray, he closed his eyes and let the hot water wash over him. Scenes from that morning flashed through his mind, and he saw each man die over and over again. He rubbed his eyes and stepped out from under the water, grabbing the soap to lather up.

The hot water was soothing, and in an effort to forget about the grisly scenes from earlier that day, he let his mind wander back to how this all started.

He told Carlo he was going away with friends to backpack through Europe as a graduation gift to himself. His real plan, however, had been to go with his friends for only the first couple of weeks and then head to Budapest for his FBI training. It had been Domenic’s very first attempt at subterfuge, and he recalled how nerve-wracking it had been to fool Carlo.

Luckily Carlo had believed him. Mostly. Domenic remembered the car ride to the airport quite clearly. The last little bit of proof that he had been telling the truth regarding Europe. He’d tried to remain as calm as possible, making small talk, all the while his nails dug into the palm of the fist which was hidden from view.

On the plane, he’d allowed himself to take a deep breath and let it out in a series of shudders.

From that moment on, his life hung over the precipice as he walked the tightrope suspended between good and evil.

33

A
LEX
S
AT
O
N
T
HE
B
ED
in a daze. Her mind flashed back to the day she left the warehouse with Domenic. She heard his voice clearly, as if he were in the room with her.

I know how this looks. I know how I must appear to you, but please believe me when I say it’s not what it seems.

Simple words, rife with hidden meaning. Now she knew how he was so certain he would be able to find her once they separated, and it made perfect sense that he’d known it wasn’t the FBI looking for them when they’d gone to the store. All the references to his “training” and she hadn’t ever thought to question it. Alex scoffed at herself. That should have been a red flag right there—it wasn’t like the mob had training facilities for their members.

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