Page 8 of Sweetest Sin
But then my phone goes off, reminding me of my meeting, and I shake the thoughts away because I don’t have time to get to know a woman, especially not one who isn’t a part of my world.
“I look forwardto doing business with you,” Jaimie Sanchez says, shaking my hand.
The meeting went better than planned, and if all goes well, in a few weeks, several investors and I will be signing a contract to partner on one of the biggest real estate projects Coral Bay has ever seen. With over fifty acres of land that we own between the two of us and three other investors, the project will include two office buildings, a shopping mall, five residential buildings with high-end condominiums, as well as dozens of restaurants and a hotel. And the best part is that this project has nothing to do with my father. It’s the first business deal I’ll make without him.
“I’ll see you soon,” I tell him before getting into the town car.
When I arrive at the airport, I have time to spare before my flight, so I head straight to the lounge to get some work done. But before I enter, the sound of a woman in distress hits my ears, and I find myself walking toward where the commotion is coming from.
I’m usually one to keep to myself, but I have a sister I’m protective of and a mom who’s been abused by my father for years—while I had to sit by and watch or risk being killed—so women tend to be a soft spot for me.
The door readsPRIVATE, but I ignore it as I swing it open and come face-to-face with the pilot from earlier, towering over Peyton. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of anger and fear as she stands helplessly against a wall while Dale corners her, his fingers wrapped around her throat.
“I suggest you remove your hand from around her neck,” I warn, getting his attention.
“Fuck you!” he barks. “This is between me and the tease.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I stalk over to him and get in his face. “The moment you put your hands on a woman without permission, you made it my business.”
I shove him, grabbing ahold of his lapel, and it forces him to let go of Peyton. “Now, explain to me,” I say, pushing him against the wall, “why Peyton is a tease.”
“Because I took her out on a date and the bitch didn’t even let me feel her up,” he chokes out.
He clearly has no self-preservation because the more he keeps talking, the more he pisses me off, and the deeper he digs his grave.
“I didn’t know you were married!” she hisses. “I had just started, and you asked me out, making it seem like you were trying to welcome me to your crew. I didn’t know you meant for it to be romantic.”
“You know, Dale,” I tell him, slamming him harder against the wall and wrapping my hand around his throat so he can feel what he did to Peyton, “it’s men like you who give guys a bad name. Now, I’m only going to tell you this once. You’re not to be anywhere near Peyton after today, and if I find out you are, I’m going to make sure you never fly a plane again.”
Dale scoffs. “You can’t do that.”
I chuckle. “I can.” I squeeze his throat harder, and he starts to panic as the air from his lungs is cut off. “And I will,” I promise.
I lean in so only he can hear. “Do you have any idea who I am? My name is Dominick Antonov.”
His eyes widen in fear, and I smirk, happy that he knows who I am.
“That’s right,” I whisper. “And whatever you’ve heard about me and my family, I can assure you, the truth is worse.”
I wait until I know he’s about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, and then I release his throat.
“Consider this your only warning.” I step back and grin. “I’m glad we had this chat.”
Then, I turn around and walk toward Peyton. “C’mon, Peaches. Let’s grab something to eat before the flight. You have a little bit of time, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” She nods, allowing me to thread my fingers through hers and guide her out of the room.
When we get a good distance away from that asshole, Peyton looks at me and says, “Did you call me Peaches?”
I stop in my tracks, shocked by her question. “What?”
“You called me Peaches.”
I turn to face her and stare at her for a few seconds. I just threatened a man, and the only thing she clung to was the nickname I’d mistakenly called her.
The term of endearment had just slipped out—but it didn’t surprise me because I’d been thinking about her nonstop since we’d collided on the plane.
I could lie to her, come up with some ridiculous excuse, but I’ve never been one to run from the truth. “When you blush, your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of peach, reminding me of my mom’s favorite flowers,” I say, gliding my knuckles down her cheek. “A glimpse of light in an otherwise dark world.”
