Chapter 9 - THE CLEANING OF THE HOUSE
Dominic stood up from the leather booth.
He adjusted the cuffs of his dark burgundy suit jacket, buttoned the middle button, and smoothed his lapels. He stood at his full six-foot-two height, a towering figure of dark, absolute power.
His four security men immediately stepped into formation around him, their faces cold, their coats unbuttoned to allow easy access to their shoulder holsters.
"Marco," Dominic said smoothly, walking toward the balcony railing overlooking the main floor of the restaurant.
"Yes, boss?"
"Call the doctor—Dr. Vance," Dominic commanded. "Have him go directly to the apartment on 18th and Blue Island. I want the mother evaluated, treated, and moved to the private wing at St. Anthony’s Hospital within the hour. Spare no expense."
"It's already being done," Marco confirmed, typing rapidly on his phone.
Dominic stopped at the mahogany handrail, looking down at the lower floor of the restaurant.
Down near the bar, the lieutenant who had been watching the VIP mezzanine was sipping his bourbon, completely unaware that his secret extortion ring had just been laid bare.
Dominic’s jaw set into a line of lethal, uncompromising steel.
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"And what about him, boss?" Marco asked, stepping up beside Dominic. "Do we take him to the warehouse?"
"No," Dominic replied, his voice chillingly calm. "Not the warehouse. Bring him to the alley behind the restaurant right now. I want to look into his eyes when he realizes he traded his life for a sick woman's wedding ring."
