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Dominic tosses a wink my way before he leans down to whisper in the brunette’s ear. Whatever he says makes her giggle like a teenage girl. And to be honest, from the look of her, she’s probably barely legal as it is.
She runs a hand down Dom’s chest, lower and lower, until she grazes his crotch. I raise a brow in silent approval at her boldness. Dominic grips her wrist, spins her around, and then slaps her ass. She squeals before disappearing back into the crowd. He flops down on the couch across the table, runs one hand over his short blond hair, and stretches the other along the back of the seat. “That was Kandy, and yes, that’s with a k.”
Our server returns, officially becoming my favorite person of the night. She lines a row of shot glasses out and quickly fills each with the best vodka money can buy. My head’s fuzzy, but I think I’m up to six shots now. Another four and my theory will be complete. Maybe after, I’ll go for another ten. Because fuck it. What else do I have to lose? My sanity? That shit’s already on its way out along with every fuck I have left to give.
“She’s gone to find a few more friends to help us celebrate your birthday properly,” Dominic continues. “Unless you’d rather continue looking like someone kicked your puppy, Michael?”
He’s smiling with unnecessary glee that I want to smack right off his face. I narrow my eyes at the smug bastard, my mind envisioning the very thing. But I promised Raphael I would behave tonight, and beating on my cousin is more trouble than it’s worth.
Dominic brushes aside the murderous intent in my eyes and hands me another. “Here, you homicidal grump. I was only joking.”
I hesitate to take the shot because doing so will admit that I am grumpy and feeling homicidal. But fuck it. No use in denying I am both of those things. I take the shot and slam it back. A few more and maybe this night will finally be over.
Dominic glances around before his face grows serious. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I heard from Enzo. Our men at the downtown construction site caught a rat.”
His words earn my attention, slicing through my alcohol-muddled brain.
“Shit,” Raphael curses under his breath.
“Triad?” I guess.
“Yeah.” Dominic signals to a server, who hands him a beer when she comes over.
“Is the rat still alive?” I’m sobering up quickly at the idea of getting my hands on a fucking Triad member.
In the weeks following my life-changing news, I went on a rampage through the streets of Miami fueled by pure, unhindered anger. My violent actions drove our enemies to hide from the storm I brought down on their heads. But while they cowered, the Triads took advantage, set up shop, and have been nothing but trouble since. A welcomed distraction from the shitty turn my life took, but now? Now they’re just a giant pain in the ass.
“The boys beat him up pretty good.” Dominic takes a long sip of his beer. “But yeah. The fucker is still alive.”
Raphael chuckles. “What a great birthday present, Dom. You shouldn’t have.”
I have to agree. “Enzo’s bringing him here?”
Dominic nods before checking his watch. “He should be here within the hour.”
“Happy fucking birthday indeed.” I grin.
I consider taking the final two shots in preparation when Kandy returns with two of her friends. The fake blonde claims my brother, climbing on his lap when he invites her to join him. The one closest to me has curly black hair with light brown skin and matching dark eyes.
“Hi there, sweetie,” she coos, leaning down and forward enough to push her breasts level with my eyes. “My name’s Sugar.”
Sugar.
Right. Of course. What do I expect from the friend of a girl named Kandy?
“Michael.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” She smiles coyly, like she has a secret, but in my drunken haze, she just looks slightly constipated. Like a happy constipated, if that’s even a thing. The thought makes me chuckle.
Sugar takes that as an invitation and perches on my lap, her little black dress rising enough for me to see that she’s bare beneath it. Not a big surprise there since she wears the dress like it’s a second skin. Sugar catches me looking and leans forward. “I heard it’s your birthday,” she whispers, her breath a little too warm and damp against my ear. “Did you make a wish?”
I pull my head away from her mouth. “Not a damn thing.” I don’t believe in wishes or fairy tales or magic. It’s all just a fake attempt at trying to make something good come from something bad. Well, news flash. Life is cruel. No amount of blowing out candles or wishing on a faraway star will ever change that.
Sugar leans back with a pout. Now she just looks sad constipated. “Not a single thing?”
I shake my head.
She continues when it’s clear I have nothing to say. “Well, that’s really sad. A handsome man like you deserves to have all his birthday wishes come true.”
