Page 1 of Sweetest Sin
1
Dominick
“What did he do now?”I ask over the speakerphone as I wipe the blood splatter off my hands, checking to make sure I didn’t get any on my suit while I wait for my younger brother to tell me what our father did this time.
There are only two reasons Matteo sends a 911 text when I don’t answer his call—he’s in trouble, or our dad fucked something up. And since Matteo can handle himself better than anyone I know, it’s usually the latter.
“He took a meeting with Rothschild behind our backs.”
That gets my attention. Joseph Rothschild and our father haven’t been anything more than business associates in many years, and everyone knows if it’s business-related, I’m the person they should contact. It’s been that way for the past year, since our father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s—information only our immediate family is aware of—and he had no choice but to go into an early retirement, despite refusing to officially hand the title over to me until I either meet his absurd requirements or he dies. I’m banking on his death.
So, the fact that they’re meeting only means one thing …
The body on the floor groans, reminding me that I’m in the middle of something.
“Hey, Matteo, let me call you right back.”
He hangs up, and I pull my gun out of its holster, aiming it at the man who betrayed me … betrayed my family. His face is mangled, to the point that I can’t tell if he’s looking at me. But it doesn’t matter because, in a moment, he won’t be looking at anyone.
I glance at the gentlemen standing around the room—some with terrified expressions, others neutral.
“Take this as a warning,” I tell them. “When you steal from my family’s casino, you’re stealing from me, and there’s only one way it will end.” The bullet goes straight into the thief’s chest, and I look at the other employees. “Any questions?”
They all shake their heads.
“Good. Now, get back to work.”
They scurry back to wherever they belong, and I glance at Franco, who runs our underground casino. It’s invite-only, and only the most wealthy and influential are considered.
“You did good,” I tell him, reaching out to shake his hand. “Expect a bonus for your loyalty.”
When he contacted me to let me know he believed someone in the accounting department was stealing from the casino, I told him to handle it. It took a couple of weeks, but he figured out who it was and called me with proof.
Unfortunately, shit like this happens all too often.
And then Matteo or I have to step in.
People get greedy and try to get away with skimming off the top. They think because we have our hands in so many pots, we’re not watching. But you don’t get to where we are by being stupid.
“Thank you, sir.” Franco nods and then scurries out while I text my cleanup crew to let them know where they need to pick up the trash.
Once that’s handled, I head back to my office in downtown North Harbor Point, calling my brother back once I’m situated.
“Sorry about that,” I say when he answers. “Issue at the casino, but I handled it. Now, where were we?”
“Andrey meeting with Joseph.”
Ah, yes.I lean back in my seat. Our father took a meeting with Joseph Rothschild behind our backs.
“Let me guess. Joseph was asking when our sister would be ready for marriage.”
“Worse,” Matteo says, his tone laced with venom. “Anthony doesn’t want to wait. He wants to marry her now.”
“How do you know that?”
“I ran into him at Pasquale’s,” Matteo growls through the phone. “He was bragging about how it won’t be long until we’re family. That Dad agreed Brielle would marry him this spring. Not fucking summer, Dominick. Spring! I think they know Dad’s health is declining, and they want it to happen before he dies.”
I clench my fist around my phone, trying to tamp down my anger. “I’ll talk to Joseph when I get back. He agreed to wait. I don’t give a shit what deal our father made with his friends thirty-five fucking years ago. It’s not supposed to happen until after she has graduated, and she still has five months to go.”
