Chapter 4 - The Inspection
The police officers didn't enter with drawn guns or loud commands; they walked in with the heavy, calculated steps of men who knew exactly whose payroll anchored the county precinct.
Lieutenant Miller, a veteran officer with silver temples and a tired expression, tipped his cap as he approached Dominic.
"Evening, Mr. Rainer," Miller said, casting a brief, sympathetic glance at the shivering group of wealthy youths standing by the ruined table. "Arthur called us from the front desk. Says there's a disturbance concerning private property rights and harassment."
"Not a disturbance, Lieutenant," Dominic said, his voice remaining measured and low. "An eviction. These individuals have been formally trespassed from the premises by the new corporate ownership."
Evan Caldwell grabbed the edge of the table, his voice cracking with desperate rage. "You can't trespass us! We're regular patrons! My dad sits on the city planning board—he'll have your badge, Miller!"
Lieutenant Miller sighed, pulling a small notepad from his breast pocket. "Son, your father’s corporate accounts were just frozen by a federal circuit judge thirty seconds ago on grounds of suspected municipal fraud and illegal zoning kickbacks. Right now, your dad has bigger problems than whether you can finish your champagne."
Evan stumbled back, hitting the wall. The absolute reality of their sudden, total ruin finally crashed over him like a frozen wave.
Sloane dropped her phone. It hit the hardwood floor, the glass screen shattering into a spiderweb of cracks right beside a spilled puddle of Coca-Cola.
"Where is she?" Sloane hissed, her face contorted with hysterical fury as she glared at Dominic. "Where is Grace? Is she sitting at home laughing at us right now? Is this her little revenge?"
Dominic paused, his gaze hardening just a fraction.
"Grace is at home making tea," Dominic said plainly. "She didn't ask me to destroy your families, Sloane. She asked me to remind you that actions carry consequences. You chose the wrong person to practice your cruelty on."
"She’s a waitress!" Sloane screamed, her voice echoing off the vaulted wooden ceiling of the dining room. "She's nobody!"
"She is my wife," Dominic replied, and the absolute finality in those four words made the remaining diners in the main room turn away in terrified silence.
"Get them off the property," Dominic instructed Lieutenant Miller.
The two officers stepped forward, gently but firmly taking Evan and Sloane by the arms. There was no resistance left in them. Within three minutes, the VIP lounge was cleared, leaving only the smell of expensive wine, spilled soda, and broken glass.
Dominic stood alone in the center of the room for a long moment. Then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out. A single text message from Grace.
Don't stay out too long. The kitchen’s a mess and I left your favorite coffee out.
May you like
A faint, genuine smile touched the corner of Dominic’s mouth. He slid the phone back into his coat, turned his back on the wreckage, and walked out into the cool night air.
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