Dominick Cruz Book Novels & Stories

“Who the hell would do this?” His words cut through me, and for the first time that night, my anger sparked. Who would do this? Who could have taken Dominic from us like that? The Cruz family. Alonso Cruz. That name had been rolling around in the back of my mind for years, always in the periphery of our lives, always lurking in the shadows. The Cruz family had been our enemy for years. We knew they were dangerous, but we never thought it would get to this point. We were wrong.

Damien caught her elbow. “What does it mean?” Dominique’s voice cracked. “It means the Fox might’ve known me before I became Domica.” Dominique sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, Priscilla and Damien on opposite sides of the room like magnets forced together. The tension between the three of them crackled—but for once, none of it was about popularity, titles, or past betrayals. It was about survival. She unrolled the corkboard she’d kept hidden under her bed. Pins. Threads. Notes in crimson ink. It looked like a crime scene disguised as a conspiracy theory.

Rule one: Be punctual to work. Dominick Cruz hates tardiness even more than God. Rule two: Never speak when he's speaking. Try not to ask questions too much. If he's irritated with you, count your days. Rule three: His secretaries never last past two weeks. So you see, you'll still be fired even if you obey the two rules above. Hotshot billionaire Dominick Cruz had a reputation larger than life. He's a terrifying, ruthless bastard.

That was a topic that really got Dominic clenching his jaw and I couldn't help but smirk at the jealousy he was very obviously trying to hide but no doubt failing. Little did he know that he had ruined every single man for me. I was convinced nobody would exceed the standard that Dominic had set but would I admit that to his face? Probably yes. Unapologetically so too. "Wait, what does this guy look like?" I asked sitting down on the couch and facing my body towards him. I didn't know what I was expecting but when Dominic opened the laptop and showed me a mug shot, my eyes widened.

The power went to his head and soon he was chasing after anything that would feed that hunger. “And what of the bodyguard?” My words immediately insulted him, he stood from the deep leather clad chair, the force sending it rolling back. “Cruz deserves everything he gets.” The Don seethed at me with a pointed finger. “He thought he could hide his past from the Verdi’s, lie to us.” He threw his finger to the doorway. “He has always been a Mafioso and he will pay for his lies!” I didn’t have time to reply, he was out the door with Ricardo hot on his tail before I had the chance to absorb his words.

“I came because I still think you’re being an idiot.” Dominic didn’t bother replying, he just dragged a hand down his face and moved back toward the chair. Romero stayed standing over by the door, arms crossed. “You left in such a rush, you didn’t bother taking anything with you to protect yourself,” Romero said after a beat, glancing over at the gun still sitting on his nightstand. “What were you going to possibly do with that against an entire Bratva?” Dominic glared at him. “You here to deliver a lecture? Save yourself the trouble and walk back out that door if that’s the case”

I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, could feel Emily's concerned gaze from somewhere behind me, could sense the tension radiating from Luigi and whoever else was lurking in the shadows of this VIP section. I'm negotiating with the most dangerous man in America, the thought hit me like a slap. I'm actually sitting here trying to bargain my way out of marrying Vito Romano. I remembered the stories I'd heard, whispered conversations about people who'd tried to renege on deals with the Romano family. A construction contractor who'd attempted to back out of a project, found at the bottom of the Hudson River with his feet encased in concrete. A politician who'd tried to double-cro

I hang it back up. --- Month Six. 9:17 PM. I’m closing the bookstore. Last customer gone, gates half-down, counting the register. The bell dings. “Sorry, we’re—” I look up. Dominic. Not CEO Dominic. Not tux Dominic. Just… him. Black sweater. Jeans. Hair longer, like he hasn’t bothered to cut it. He looks like he’s been upstate, reading books, chopping wood or whatever retired billionaires do. He looks like a man. Not a fortress.

It was messy, and the toast was burnt, and it was the best meal I’d had in a year. Later that morning, Dominic asked me to sit with him in the library. He didn't have his laptop open. He just had a single, handwritten sheet of paper. It was the breakdown of what was left. "I didn't walk away with nothing," he said, sliding the paper toward me. "I’m not a martyr, and I’m not going to let our children grow up in a shack. But I’m not a billionaire anymore."

She then randomly selected another book, this one about Eastern culture. Dominic blushed as he took the book from Kathy's hand. "Alright, you'll have plenty of time to read later. Let's focus on the task at hand first." However, Kathy wasn't eager to discuss work. She found the current version of Dominic intriguing. She never imagined that the versatile CEO would have such an unusual hobby. "What's got your attention? Haven't you ever seen a good-looking guy before?" Dominic playfully covered Kathy's eyes with his hand and guided her to the sofa. Kathy ceased resisting, composed herself, and waited for Dominic to continue.