Page 38 of Sweetest Sin
It’s been over four years since I last saw him, and time has not been good to him. With greasy blond hair, pale skin, and a beer gut nobody our age should have, he looks like he’s spent the past several years sitting in front of the television instead of getting his act together.
Sure, his dad didn’t leave him shit, but if I were in his shoes, that would’ve motivated me to prove my old man wrong and make my way in this world without his fucking money.
“Hello to you too,” I tell him, glancing around for Matteo.
We’re in public, surrounded by city officials, investors, and the management company that’s running the auction, so as much as I’d like to take this fool out, I need to be careful. I might have most of the city’s police force in my pocket, but there’s only so much they could do if I killed the guy in front of everyone—or if he ended up dead shortly after our encounter.
“They fucking denied me because of you,” Anthony spits.
The auction has ended, and between Russo Property Group and Antonov Enterprises, we’ve scooped up over one hundred and fifty acres in land.
We were hoping to get a few other parcels, but they went to a couple of different bidders. We’ll figure it out though. With the land we have, there’s only so much they can do with the parcels they bought. We’ll contact them and offer them a number they can’t refuse, and then we’ll be set to put our real estate development plan into motion.
“No, they denied you because you’re unstable, and if you default on your loan, they’ll lose their ass. How did you get preapproved anyway?”
“Eric Vanderbilt vouched for me.”
Mayor Vanderbilt? Hmm, that’s interesting.
We’ve been butting heads with the newly appointed mayor since he was sworn into office.
We’d had a great relationship with Paul Astor, the previous mayor, who unfortunately reached the last term allowed. Everything was set for his son, Paul Jr., to become the new mayor, when he was in a car accident that forced him to drop out of the running and allowed Eric Vanderbilt to slide in and win. Something about it always felt shady to me, but now that I know Eric vouched for Anthony, my interest is piqued.
We don’t know much about Eric, aside from him being a conservative family man. He has a wife and daughter, and every Sunday, you can find him at church, sitting in the first row.
“How do you know Mayor Vanderbilt?” I ask casually, watching closely to see how he reacts.
Just as I suspected, he flinches, showing his cards.
“First, you guys took what belonged to me, and then you killed my father,” Anthony hisses, avoiding my question. “You’d better watch your back because, thanks to you, I have nothing left to lose.”
I wait until he’s gone before I pull out my phone and send Matteo a text.
Dominick: I need you to take out the trash.
He doesn’t text back, but I know he’ll handle it. We discussed this when we found out there was a chance Anthony would be showing up today.
Only now, we have one more person on our hit list—Mayor Eric Vanderbilt.
With the auctionout of the way, I head home to finish packing for Jaimie’s wedding. Despite the distance, we’ve become close these past few years. I don’t have many friends—in my line of work, it’s hard to trust anyone—but he’s one of the few I consider an ally. So, when he invited me to attend his wedding, I accepted.
The flight to Coral Bay is quick, and the ride from the airport is long, thanks to the city traffic. They’re getting married downtown, in one of the hotels we built, and everyone is staying there as well.
As the driver heads toward the hotel, I can’t help but look out the window for the fiery redhead who, to this day, still crosses my mind. I could’ve looked her up—especially since I had Janet follow through with the scholarship for her, so it would’ve been easy to get her info—but when Peyton told me she’d moved on, I took it as a sign to let her go. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about her from time to time, especially when I’m in the city.
“Dominick,”Jaimie says when I see him after the wedding at the reception, “thanks for coming, man.”
“Of course.” I give him a one-armed hug, then hug his wife, Beatrice. “Congratulations.”
We spend a few minutes talking about where they’ll be honeymooning and what Jaimie’s plans are for expansion when they get home and he’s back to business, which leads to the topicof the real estate development project we’ve secured in Harbor Point.
I’m going through our plans when my phone vibrates in my pocket. With Anthony on the loose—thanks to my brother being held up and not seeing my text until almost an hour later—and disappearing underground, like the snake that he is, we’re all on alert, unsure how serious his threats were.
“Excuse me for a second,” I tell Jaimie and Beatrice, clicking on my email from the management company who handles our private jet.
“Dammit.” I shake my head when I read the email.
During their routine check, they found an issue with the engine and have to park it to fix it, which means it will be unavailable for my trip tomorrow. They can procure a replacement, but it’s going to take a few days.
