Dominic
The crystal whiskey glass felt heavy in my hand as I listened to another useless story about Bennett Global's "management issues." Henry's new bar buzzed with New York's elite – the kind of people who knew everyone's secrets. Everyone's except the ones I needed.
"Another drink, Mr. Sterling?" Henry appeared at my elbow, perfect as always in his tailored suit. We'd been friends since boarding school, back when he dreamed of owning the city's most exclusive bars and I dreamed of being more than just my father's heir.
"No thanks." I checked my phone again. No messages from Emma. Good. She thought I was having a quiet evening with the twins at Mother's house.
"You're brooding again." Henry dropped into the chair beside me, his designer suit perfectly pressed despite the late hour.
