“Put your phone away,” he says, his lip curling. Ashton ignores him, his leg bouncing rapidly.
“Girls like jokes, right?” Ashton asks, staring down at his phone screen. “What’s a good joke?”
“Knock knock,” Sebastian deadpans.
Ashton types. “Who’s there?”
“A pathetic loser who doesn’t know when to stop.”
Ashton’s fingers tap audibly against his phone screen. When they finally pause, he frowns, glancing up at his brother. “A pathetic loser who doesn’t know when to stop, who?”
Sebastian snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “Christ, you are such a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, I’m the idiot? You suck at jokes, you know that, Doc?” Ashton grumbles. “That one doesn’t even make any sense.”
“That’s enough,” I tell him, my voice too sharp. Both of them look at me. “Put your phone away, Ash.”
“Whatever. It’s not like she’s answering any of them anyway,” he mutters, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“We’re not here to talk about Sydney,” I remind them. I can’t. Even now, when I can’t stop thinking about her, when she occupies my every waking thought, I can’t talk about her.
Because I had her, had everything I ever wanted, and I lost it.
“We’re here to talk about business,” I say to the room, trying to corral the spiraling feeling inside me into something useful. “I want an update on what’s going on in Empire City.”
“We’re losing ground there,” Sebastian answers. His finger taps a rapid beat against his thigh. It’s frenetic, unconscious. I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it. “And there’s fuck-all we can do about it unless we’re willing to dedicate more of our men to seeking out the problem.”
“And why aren’t we doing that?” I ask with a growl.
“Because we’re stretched too thin already.”Tap, tap, tap. “And until we get that shipment of weapons from Tony, we risk being outgunned.”
My jaw tightens until it hurts. “Give me some good news.”
“How cute that you think I have any,” Sebastian says with a brittle smile. “I’m fresh out of good news.”
“Then give me the bad news.”
He won’t look at me when he answers. His eyes are glued to a point just to the right of my face, staring out at the city skyline through the windows at my back. “Oscuro had their liquor license pulled last night.”
Fuck. The last bit of my calm evaporates, my hands clenching on my desk. Oscuro is supposed to be the cornerstone of our next phase of expansion here in Fortune City. When it opens, it will be the largest nightclub on the West Coast, nine full floors of sin operating independently, each with its own theme and cateringto a different sort of clientele, ensuring that any patron who steps through those doors is sure to find something they’ll enjoy.
And on the top floor? A special, VIP-access sex club designed by Francesca herself, made to satisfy any and all vices a select, approved clientele could ask for.
Oscuro is set to be my crowning achievement here, with financial projections suggesting the income it stands to generate for Sterling Enterprises could rival even our biggest casinos. And why not, when the seventh floor will have its own gambling parlor, complete with high-end poker games and roulette?
But no one will be lining up for opening night at a nightclub that can’t legally serve alcohol.
“How the hell did this happen?” I demand. Sebastian’s eyes flick to mine and away again. “We just got word that the liquor board approved the license last week.”
“And the city council pulled it,” Sebastian says grimly. “They’re claiming the building isn’t zoned for selling liquor.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
A full year. A full year of land purchases, of planning and building, all of it above board. Only to be told at the last minute that this area isn’t zoned for it?
“Weownthe council,” Ashton says, brows drawing together incredulously. “Why would they?—”
“Someone paid them off,” I surmise, the words flat and cold.
