The Date And The Problem
1075 Words
Dominic’s POV
I snapped shut the folder and blew a long breath out through my nose. Elena Monroe wasn’t supposed to be in there. That was all that mattered.
If she heard something, she was a liability.
If not, she was just an inconvenience.
Either way, I was going to deal with it.
I flicked my gaze up to Leo. “You know what—Get her.”
To his credit, Leo didn’t bother to ask—he just nodded once and was halfway out the door.
He paused then as if recalling something.
“Oh, and boss? You’ve got a date tonight.”
Right. That.
I didn’t look up. “Cancel it.”
Leo snorted. “It’s that model you let the Bratva set you up with. The one sending you selfies.”
My jaw twitched. Right. The blonde.
Another girl with too much filler and not an ounce of personality. Not dumb, she thought money could buy my interest.
She couldn’t.
She wanted the thrill of sitting across the table from a man she should fear.
And I wanted to see just how far she could get before she realized how real the danger was.
I opened and closed my lighter again. “Fine.”
Leo smiled. “I thought you would. I’ll get the car prepped.”
I waved him off, already further ahead in my own thoughts.
By the time I returned from this date, Elena Monroe would be in my basement.
And I’d find out exactly what she knew.
Or she wouldn’t leave alive.
___________________________________________________
The restaurant was high-scale and private, populated with people that had more money than common sense.
In I walked, with no word, and my men hovered just outside.
She was already there.
Long blonde hair, legs crossed, red lips pursed as she sipped on some wine she possibly couldn’t even name.
Her eyes lit up at the sight of me.
I didn’t return it.
“Dominic,” she purred, reaching for my arm.
I let her touch me but did not react. She wanted a game. I did not play.
“I ordered for us,” she continued, flipping her hair. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Fine.”
She smiled, teeth too white: “You’re a hard man to get a hold of.”
I sipped my whiskey. “Mm.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she continued. “You’re quite a mystery.”
I set my glass down. “Mm.”
For a flicker of irritation, she managed to cover it with another smile. “You’re not much of a talker, huh?”
“No.”
Her laughter was a bit stiff. “Well, that’s fine. I can do the talking.”
I nodded once.
And tuned her out.
I let her yatter on while I thought of something far more pressing.
Elena.
Right now, she was either stuffed into the trunk of one of my cars or already locked in my basement. Either way, her future was sealed.
The only remaining question was—would she leave alive?
The blonde was still talking.
Not that I was listening.
Dinner was at some overpriced restaurant in a five-star hotel—one of those places where food looked like art, and the bill looked like a robbery. Not that I cared.
I had the steak; she had something green. I just didn’t care which.
She was still talking.
“…and then I told him, ‘Babe, if you can’t afford the yacht, why even bother?’” She laughed, twirling a piece of her hair. “Like, seriously, what is with guys these days?”
I took a sip of whiskey.
The answer was none of my concern.
She leaned in, resting her hand over mine. “You’re different, though. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.”
Wrong answer.
Men like me were always needing to prove something.
Before I could answer—not that I intended to—a voice from behind me cut in.
“Shut your b***h up.”
Silence.
Not in the whole restaurant, but at this table? Absolute. f*****g. Silence.
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. I let the words penetrate.
Then slightly turned my head up.
The guy standing there was unknown to me. Middle forties, expensive suit, bad hair. Someone with just enough clout to think he mattered but not enough to know he didn't.
Then I heard it.
A harsh snort.
A few steps away, a waitress was letting some laughter loose.
With the audacity.
I turned back to the blonde. She looked offended. Like she expected me to get up and fight for her honor.
I almost smirked.
Instead, I stood up and adjusted my cuffs. “Wait here.”
She nodded eagerly.
And then frowned. “Wait—”
The name.
For the first time that night, I tried to remember it.
Nothing.
I exhaled through my nose. “Wait.”
She was pleased enough with that.
Stepping away, I pulled out my phone and made one call.
Two minutes later, I returned, sat down, picked up my whiskey, and stared.
The waitress who laughed? Fired, just like that.
The speaker? Security was dragging him out through the restaurant.
The hotel?
Mine. Just bought it.
The blonde gawped. “You… You just bought the whole hotel?”
I took another sip of whiskey. “Mm.”
She blinked. “Seriously? Just like that?”
I held her gaze, tilting my head. “Did you think I was joking?”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Then my phone vibrated.
Leo.
“We got her.”
I put down the glass.
Dinner was over.
Standing, I threw bills onto the table: more than enough to pay for whatever nonsense she’d ordered.
“Dominic?” A bit unsure now, she asked. “Where are you going?”
I adjusted my cuffs again, casting her a glance. “I have business to attend to.”
Her mouth twisted. “So that’s it? You wine and dine me, then leave?”
I smiled. “ I'm not really in the mood to make your legs tremble”
Her mouth dropped open.
I turned and walked away.
My men flanked me, and by the time we got to the car, my thoughts were already on Elena Monroe.
By morning, I'd know exactly what she knew.
And if I didn't like it?
She wouldn’t see morning.
- Writer
