Sweet Sensations

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dominick

Patricia walked into the bar. When she spotted me at the back, she raised her hand in the air, waving it back and forth to get my attention.

I see you,I thought. Although you're about to wish I didn't.

"Funny little spot you've picked," she said, joining me at the booth. "But I'm not complaining. Getting a cocktail with you is more challenging than getting front row seats to Hamilton."

I gestured to the place with a wave of my hand. It was a real dive with sports blaring on the television and sticky floors. I could have used somewhere with a better liquor selection, but it would do.

"A little privacy seemed important," I said, running my finger along the top of my glass.

"You know I like the sound of that," Patricia cooed. "Why don't I just get myself a drink at the bar? Can I grab you another while I'm up there?"

"Wait," I said sharply. "You'll want a drink, but you'll want to enjoy it alone."

She settled back into the chair, frowning and tapping her manicured nails on the wooden table with a click, click, click. "Maybe more business than pleasure, then. All right, Dominick, I'll bite. What's the story? This have something to do with your mysterious New York trip?"

I lifted my drink and threw back the last of the cheap whiskey, wincing from the burn of it. "You know, Patricia, I was pretty disappointed when I got a look at the actual plan."

She shrugged, but from the way she pursed her lips, I knew she was nervous. "I have no idea what you're talking about, darling."

"It's one thing to buy up properties, knowing they'd increase in value. It's shady, considering your role in the redevelopment project. But still, standard level corruption."

Her lips turned down in a frown, and she pulled her hand back from the table. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she repeated, her tone icier. "But maybe it's better we end this meeting." She glanced at my drink. "You've been drinking or something."

I pulled out my phone, then pushed a few buttons. Immediately, her own phone vibrated in her purse. "That's the paper trail you left," I said. "Very sloppy, I might add. I would have just flushed you out without a fuss, but then I got a closer look at Zed Four. Milking government-subsidized housing for profit is one thing, but the scale you're doing it on." I let out a whistle. "Although you're right about one thing. Those spots will be great for some low-income housing development. Especially once the neighborhoods get a boost from our work."

Patricia shot up to her feet and clutched her fingers around her purse. "This is absurd," she said. "You're totally out of line, Dominick."

"Tell that to Richard," I said. "I never would have guessed he was part of your team, but once I put the pieces together..."

"Richard," she whispered.

"He should be cleaning out his desk with security watching right now. But luckily, there's a different fate for you."

"Fuck you," Patricia whispered, then dropped back down to her chair.

"You're sloppy," I said, "and you left evidence everywhere. But it's mostly circumstantial. Enough to give you away, but not enough to hold up in court."

"What's your point?" she snarled.

I leaned forward, pushing aside my glass. "Give me everything you have. All the papers, all the emails. I'll knock down Zed Four, good and proper."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I know where every one of your investments lives," I growled. "From your properties in California to your bullshit money laundering business in Florida. And I am a ruthless, bloodthirsty man. If you don't play my game, I will make it my life's goal to drive you out of business and make sure you never have a damn penny to your name." I tightened my hand into a fist and cracked my knuckles. "Got it?"