Chapter 1
Rocco closed the club before the champagne stopped dripping from the ruined display.
Members complained until they saw his face.
Then they stopped.
Most of them knew Rocco Castellano as the senior member of the family who rarely visited the club anymore. Almost none knew that the holding company behind the property, liquor license, furnishings, and operating business belonged to him.
Dominic knew his uncle had influence.
He did not know Rocco could remove him with one phone call.
Now he did.
“You don’t own this place,” Dominic said from the carpet.
Rocco straightened his cuffs.
“That’s the first thing you’re going to learn tonight.”
His attorney confirmed the ownership documents by speakerphone. Dominic’s management authority was suspended immediately. His access card, office keys, company phone, and brass badge were collected.
Rocco did not order his bodyguards to hurt him again.
The fight was over.
What remained was accounting.
First, however, he turned toward Maeve.
Her father had arrived from the club’s basement bakery kitchen after hearing the crash upstairs. Daniel Carter was forty-two, flour still on one sleeve, and looked terrified when he saw his daughter beside Rocco.
“Maeve.”
She ran to him.
Daniel lifted her.
Then he looked at Dominic and went pale.
Rocco noticed.
“Why are you afraid of him?”
Daniel immediately shook his head.
“I’m not.”
It was an obvious lie.
Rocco looked at Maeve’s worn sneakers, the nearly empty bakery bag, and the coins clenched in her small fist.
“You’ve supplied this club for how long?”
“Fourteen years.”
“Are your invoices current?”
Daniel said nothing.
That silence interested Rocco more than any accusation would have.
Dominic got to his feet.
“This has nothing to do with the girl.”
Rocco turned.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Daniel finally spoke.
“We’re nine weeks behind.”
Rocco’s expression changed.
“Who owes whom?”
“The club owes us.”
Dominic interrupted.
“There are quality holds.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You ordered three hundred pastries this week.”
Rocco glanced toward the trays visible through the service doors.
The club had continued accepting Carter Bakery’s food while refusing to pay Carter Bakery’s invoices.
“How much?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Twenty-six thousand, four hundred.”
Rocco stared at Dominic.
Dominic adjusted his soaked jacket.
“It’s a business dispute.”
Maeve tugged on her father’s collar.
“Daddy, can we go home?”
Daniel looked embarrassed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
Rocco stepped aside.
“Take her.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Mr. Castellano—”
“Tomorrow.”
Rocco’s voice softened slightly.
“We talk tomorrow.”
After they left, Rocco ordered every vendor payment, contract amendment, employee complaint, and management authorization from Dominic’s eighteen months in charge preserved.
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“You think I stole from you.”
Rocco looked at the wrecked brass emblem.
“I think a four-year-old was hungry in a building buying food from her father.”
He picked up Dominic’s brass manager badge.
“And I think you were very comfortable with that.”
By midnight, the first financial report arrived.
The club had more than enough cash to pay Daniel.
May you like
His money had not disappeared.
Someone had deliberately chosen not to release it.
