both of our wills. Neither of us wanted it to be over, and it just so happened, something horrible took place with his father right before we moved away. It’s not Dominic’s fault his dad died, and I don’t blame him for disappearing like he did. I probably would’ve done the same thing, and I can only imagine how terrible it must’ve been for him to lose his father and then lose me too. He had it rough, and I understand.
Over the years, I was always looking for him. I’d watch the news to see if there was anything big happening in St. Louis, hoping maybe I’d see his face on TV in the background, or I’d see his name pop up. Then again, I was hoping I wouldn’t see his name pop up, too. I was never na?ve about Dominic’s life. Now that I’m twenty-five and I’ve learned a lot, I know Donnie Collazo was in the mafia, and I know Dominic was a part of that as well. It never changed the way I felt about him, though. If anything, knowing it just made me more interested in him. Strange, I guess, but I suppose that’s how love works. It never mattered what Dominic did, he always treated me with so much love and respect, and that’s all that’s ever mattered to me. I’ve known guys who were as nice as can be out in public, but they treated me like absolute shit behind closed doors. Dominic never did that.
There was a period where I was worried to death about Dominic, even though we hadn’t spoken in years. I was checking in on St. Louis like I always did—especially in the beginning—and some members of the FBI and St. Louis Police were really going after the Giordano family. According to the police, everything picked up when they found a guy named Alfonse Cestone in the Mississippi River. He had his hands and feet cut off. They even had pictures of the body on the internet. It was gruesome, and it was all the St. Louis PD needed to open up a case against the Giordano family.
After that, all hell broke loose. Donnie Collazo was next to go, in apparent retaliation for the Cestone death, then Sammy Cestone went missing. It was just hit after hit after that, in some war between the Giordano’s and the Cestone crew. The FBI got involved and got a couple of informants to snitch on some of the Giordano guys, and a lot of people either went to jail or died. After it all, St. Louis PD was basically shouting from the rooftops that they “Decimated the St. Louis mob.” They were proud of the mob’s collapse in their city, claiming all the important members of the mob were now either dead or in jail. But I never saw Dominic’s name. Not even once.
I scrolled and scrolled through headlines and articles, but I never saw his name. I even went as far as reading obituaries in the city, and I was relieved that I never saw him. I always knew that just because I didn’t see his name didn’t mean he’d made it out of all that drama unscathed. The mafia has a way of getting rid of people without them ever being found—just like Sammy Cestone—but something told me that didn’t happen to Dominic. He’s too strong for that, so I know he’s alive. I know he’s okay, and it fuels me.
A whole decade has passed, and Dominic Collazo is still on my mind. I’m not ashamed of it, and I don’t care what my parents have to say on the subject. So, I’ll board the plane in a few days, and I’ll fly back to the place where I left my heart, hoping the whole way that Dominic did survive the St. Louis mob’s collapse, and praying that he took my letter to heart. I don’t know anything for sure. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him when I get back. But a girl can hope, right?
Well, I’m hoping.
Dominic
They stopped using social clubs back in the nineties because the Feds kept bugging them and fucking guys with their own words. So, the guys back in the day adjusted accordingly.
The Lodge is what those old social clubs used to be. Leo Capizzi’s the first boss to go back to social clubs to discuss family business, but he did it smart. He kept The Lodge completely off the books and