Chapter 3 - The Unraveling
“W-Wife?” Preston stuttered, his bravado entirely evaporating as he looked from Dominic to me, then back down at the clumps of dark hair scattered across his own shoes. “She’s just a waitress! She told us her name was Elena Hayes!”
“Hayes is her maiden name,” Dominic stepped closer, towering over Preston. “And you didn't just harass a waitress, Preston. You laid hands on Elena Vale.”
One of Preston’s sycophantic friends tried to stand up, attempting a nervous laugh. “Come on, man, it was just a joke! A birthday prank! We’ll pay for the haircut, we’ll double her tip—name your price!”
Dominic raised his right hand, displaying the dark ink across his knuckles.
In Chicago, that hand didn't bargain.
Without breaking eye contact with Preston, Dominic unbuttoned his black overcoat, letting it slide off his shoulders into the hands of the nearest bodyguard. He pulled back his cuffs, revealing forearms corded with muscle and old scars—the physical history of a man who had conquered the city's underworld long before he legitimized his empire.
“Frank,” Dominic called out without turning around.
“Yes, Mr. Vale?” the head of security answered instantly, trembling.
“Lock the doors. Nobody leaves this building. Not a single customer, not a single chef, not a single waiter. If anyone tries to walk out, you call my office directly.”
“Right away, sir.”
The heavy brass front doors clicked shut, sealed from the inside. Panic rippled through Preston’s group. The wealthy heirs who had spent the evening laughing and snapping photos suddenly looked like trapped animals.
“You can’t do this!” Preston yelled, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. “My father is Marcus Hale! He’s friends with the mayor! He’ll shut this entire restaurant down! He’ll ruin you!”
May you like
Dominic stopped three feet from Preston. He tilted his head slightly, a cold, humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s call your father right now,” Dominic suggested smoothly, pulling a sleek black smartphone from his pocket. “Let’s put him on speakerphone and ask him what he thinks about his son assaulting my wife.”
