Chapter 6 - Dominic Asked Me to Dinner Only After I No Longer Served Him, and I Made Him Tell Me What “Mafia Boss” Actually Meant.
Dominic waited eleven days.
I counted.
That annoyed me.
Not because eleven was long.
Because I noticed.
There.
My new job at Lakeshore Arts Center began with spreadsheets and panic.
The venue hosted theater, chamber music, lectures, corporate rentals, and weddings.
There.
My first week, a florist arrived at wrong loading dock.
A donor’s shellfish allergy disappeared from catering sheet.
A string quartet refused to share green room with a motivational speaker.
There.
I loved it.
Chaos with clipboards.
No one cared what size I was except when ordering staff T-shirts.
There.
My body became a body again.
Not a problem to solve.
Not something Arthur could praise, then punish.
Good.
On day eleven, I received an email.
From Dominic.
Not personal phone.
He did not have my number.
Subject:
Question I said I would ask later.
There.
My heart jumped.
I opened.
Norah,
Would you have dinner with me?
Not Bellamy House.
Not Costello property.
You choose the place.
If the answer is no, I will not ask again unless you tell me otherwise.
Dominic
There.
I stared for seven minutes.
Then forwarded to Priya.
Not because I needed permission.
Because my nervous system still associated powerful men with hidden terms.
There.
Priya called.
“What do you want?”
There.
“I hate you.”
“Common.”
Good.
I said:
“I want to go.”
There.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
I listed.
His reputation.
Money.
Arthur.
My own judgment.
There.
Priya listened.
Then:
“Dating a powerful man after coercive control can complicate things.”
There.
“Yes.”
“Dating anyone can.”
There.
“Also yes.”
Then:
“You can build conditions.”
Good.
So I did.
Public restaurant.
I choose.
No security at table.
No gifts.
No car.
No alcohol for me first date.
There.
I sent.
Dominic replied:
Yes.
No negotiation.
Good.
I chose a Ukrainian restaurant in West Town where my mother used to take me after doctor appointments when I was a teenager.
There.
Not fancy.
Dominic arrived wearing dark sweater under coat.
No suit.
Still looked like money.
Unfair.
There.
He stood when I reached table.
I almost laughed.
“What?”
he asked.
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I am.”
Good.
“Why?”
“Because I have negotiated port contracts with less preparation.”
There.
I laughed.
There.
Good start.
We ordered.
I paid for my own appetizer before he could object? Better at end split. Fine.
Then silence.
Not awkward.
Careful.
I decided to ruin careful immediately.
“What does mafia boss actually mean?”
There.
Dominic froze.
The waitress arrived with bread.
Perfect.
He waited until she left.
Then:
“Is that what you think I am?”
There.
“Yes.”
Good.
No dancing.
His mouth tightened.
“Fair.”
There.
“So?”
He looked around restaurant.
“Not a conversation I usually have in public.”
There.
“You picked public.”
“You picked public.”
Good.
“Then use ordinary words.”
There.
He took time.
“My family ran illegal gambling.”
There.
“Private lending.”
There.
“Protection arrangements.”
There.
“Labor influence.”
There.
“Some cargo theft and smuggling before I took control.”
There.
“Under you?”
“Illegal gambling continued.”
There.
“Private lending continued.”
There.
“Some protection payments became legitimate security contracts.”
There.
“Some did not.”
Good.
“Violence?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Yes.”
There.
“Ordered by you?”
“Threats, yes.”
There.
“Assault?”
He looked down.
“I approved collections knowing violence was possible.”
There.
“That is not same as ordering a beating.”
“No.”
Good.
“Does it make you feel better?”
“No.”
There.
Good.
“Killings?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“I have never ordered a killing.”
There.
“Have people died because of your organization?”
“Yes.”
There.
“Under your leadership?”
“Yes.”
There.
“Did you know they might?”
“Sometimes.”
There.
My stomach turned.
There.
This was not fantasy.
Not dark romance with safe edges.
Real harm.
I asked:
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because you asked.”
There.
“Would you lie if I didn’t?”
“No.”
He paused.
“I would omit.”
There.
Honest.
“Same thing sometimes.”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then:
“What are you changing?”
Dominic’s face hardened slightly.
“I don’t want to audition reform for you.”
There.
Good.
“That would be manipulative.”
“Yes.”
There.
“So don’t tell me what you’re doing for me.”
There.
“Tell me what was happening before I ever left Arthur.”
Good.
He did.
Two years earlier, after his sister Sofia—not his mother? We had mentioned sister but not name. Use "Sofia Costello"—had confronted him about fear inside family businesses, Dominic began separating some operations.
There.
Not all.
He closed one illegal gambling room after violence around it.
There.
Moved legitimate security contracts into licensed company.
There.
Stopped new high-interest private loans but kept collecting old balances.
There.
Too slowly.
Good.
Then city corruption review—triggered partly by Arthur/Graham case—expanded his reforms.
There.
Not because Norah.
Because subpoenas and risk.
Good.
He had self-interest.
Important.
Then:
“Are you still committing crimes?”
I asked.
He took time.
“Probably.”
There.
That answer chilled me.
“What does probably mean?”
“It means there are ongoing investigations into conduct I authorized.”
There.
“And?”
“It means some legacy cash businesses are still being unwound.”
There.
“That sounds convenient.”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then he said:
“I am not asking you to trust a clean version.”
There.
“You should know there may be charges.”
Good.
I looked at him.
“Why ask me to dinner now?”
There.
“Because I like you.”
Simple.
There.
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
Good.
“Because you’re out of Bellamy House and no longer serving me.”
There.
“That matters.”
“Yes.”
Good.
“Because the protective order is still active and I do not want Arthur’s existence to decide whether I am allowed to want you.”
There.
Dangerous sentence.
Then:
“But if dating me makes your safety harder, say no.”
There.
I breathed.
“You think your enemies care who you date?”
“Yes.”
There.
There.
“Has anyone threatened me?”
“No.”
Good.
“Would you tell me?”
“Yes.”
There.
“Would you put security on me without asking?”
His mouth tightened.
“I want to say never.”
There.
“But if there were an immediate credible threat and I could not reach you, I might contact police or your building.”
There.
Good nuance.
“Not secret tail.”
“No.”
Good.
Then food arrived.
Pierogi.
Dominic looked suspicious.
I laughed.
“You’ve never had pierogi?”
“I have.”
“Then why face?”
“Too much dill.”
There.
“Leave.”
Good.
We laughed.
Then he asked about Lakeshore.
I talked.
For twenty minutes.
No abuse.
No crime.
Just event chaos.
There.
That was when date became a date.
Good.
At the end, check came.
Dominic reached.
I reached too.
He stopped.
“You want separate?”
“Yes.”
There.
He nodded.
No argument.
Good.
We walked outside.
Cold.
One black SUV half block away.
There.
I looked.
“Security?”
“Yes.”
There.
“Why didn’t you say?”
“You asked no security at table.”
There.
“I assumed you knew I would still have transportation security.”
There.
“I did.”
Good.
“Still, ask next time if visibility matters.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
There.
Then:
“May I see you again?”
I smiled despite myself.
“Yes.”
There.
Good.
No kiss.
Not yet.
Then Arthur’s case interrupted.
Of course.
Carmen called next morning.
Arthur offered plea in identity-fraud case.
There.
He would admit using my identity to obtain loan without authorization.
There.
Restitution.
Probation or custodial exposure depending judge.
Separate zoning case ongoing.
There.
In exchange, prosecutors would dismiss one lesser financial count.
There.
I was asked for input, not veto.
Good.
“What do you want?”
Carmen asked.
I hated the question because no answer repaired bruises.
“I want the loan gone.”
There.
“It is.”
“I want no contact.”
“There is order.”
There.
“I want him to stop using my mother.”
“We can request plea condition reinforcing no contact with her providers.”
Good.
“Then I don’t care if he says sorry.”
There.
Good.
At plea hearing, I did not attend.
There.
Arthur admitted.
No personal apology.
Good.
The court sentenced later to eighteen months probation plus six months home confinement? Identity theft can have mandatory? Federal aggravated ID has 2 years, but we don't know jurisdiction. Better keep general local state fraud: "custodial sentence suspended in part, probation, restitution". To avoid specifics, say "court imposed probation, restitution, and a period of monitored home confinement." Good.
Separate bribery conspiracy later could yield more.
There.
The protective order was extended another year after evidence of financial abuse and his attempted indirect contact.
There.
Good.
Then Graham Hollis.
Investigators eventually charged one consultant and former city employee.
There.
Graham was not charged immediately.
Arthur was charged with conspiracy to facilitate improper payments based on emails.
There.
He denied knowing payments were bribes.
There.
Trial pending.
Good.
Dominic’s company review found older payments that it self-reported.
There.
A former Costello consultant pleaded guilty to bribing an inspector five years earlier.
There.
Dominic had approved consultant retainer but no evidence he knew specific bribe.
There.
Still.
He publicly accepted company responsibility and entered municipal compliance agreement.
There.
Fine.
Independent monitor.
Good.
I watched press conference online.
Dominic said:
“I benefited from a system where results mattered more than how they were obtained.”
There.
No saint speech.
Good.
Then he said:
“I cannot claim ignorance as a management philosophy.”
There.
That line stuck.
I texted him for first time.
Priya had given him my number? No, after date we exchanged numbers. Good.
That was good.
I wrote:
That line was annoyingly decent.
There.
He replied:
Which means the rest was indecent?
There.
I smiled.
Probably.
There.
Second date.
Museum cafeteria.
My choice.
Third date.
Walk along lake.
Fourth canceled because Mom went to hospital with dehydration.
There.
Dominic asked:
“What do you need?”
There.
“Nothing.”
He replied:
Okay.
There.
No flowers at hospital.
No doctor call.
Good.
Two days later I asked:
“Can you bring coffee?”
There.
He did.
There.
One cup.
No entourage.
Security waited downstairs.
He met my mother for twelve minutes because she asked who he was.
There.
Evelyn looked at him.
Then at me.
“Costello.”
There.
Dominic said:
“Yes, ma’am.”
She frowned.
“Don’t ma’am me.”
Good.
Then:
“Are you the one who gave her the shelter number?”
There.
He looked at me.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
There.
Mom said:
“Good.”
Then:
“That doesn’t buy anything.”
There.
Dominic’s face changed.
“No.”
Good.
Mom nodded.
“Better.”
There.
Then she drank coffee.
Good.
Afterward, Dominic said:
“She is terrifying.”
I smiled.
“She likes you.”
“That was liking?”
“Yes.”
There.
Then we stood in hospital hallway.
I wanted to kiss him.
There.
Wrong place.
Complicated day.
Still.
Wanting existed.
I said:
“Not today.”
There.
He looked confused.
“What?”
I smiled.
“Nothing.”
Good.
I went back to Mom.
May you like
There would be another day.
For the first time in years, desire did not feel like a deadline.
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