Abram was half sitting on the front of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “Bullshit. Her father had gambling debts. No one held a gun to his head and made him go to Ilya for that loan.”
Even now Abram wouldn’t say ‘my father’ or ‘our father.’ It was always Ilya. “When her father died the debt should have been settled with the life insurance and the house.” He looked down at the files again, saw how much the life insurance and house—which was on the beach and was prime real estate—had been worth. It hadn’t been quite enough to cover the debt because Dominique’s father had racked up an obscene amount. “I think Ilya took the rest of the debt from Dominique’s mother. Probably through sex.”
Abram shifted uncomfortably on the desk before shoving to his feet. “We can’t know that.”
No, but Viktor could read between the lines. His father, gangster that he’d been, had kept impeccable records. “Even after her father died the debt was paid down in credits.” He tapped a finger against the old file even though Abram already knew what it said. He was the one who’d discovered that Dominique’s father had been in deep to their own father. “Not money. You know what that means. Then her mother kills herself six months later?” It was clear why. His father had been a monster, had probably driven Dominique’s mother to suicide with his sick demands she’d been forced to fulfill.
“I wish he was alive so I could kill him,” Abram muttered, clearly referring to Ilya. He went to the big window that overlooked downtown, and was silent as he stared out of it.
Viktor didn’t respond, just flipped over the current page and stared at Dominique’s mother. She had Mediterranean coloring as well as dark hair, and according to the file she’d been five feet five inches. It was clear Dominique favored her father in height and hair color, but she’d gotten some of her mother’s traits as well, including a beautiful face.
He felt almost sick to his stomach. Dominique had lost her father and mother in less than a year and could trace both deaths back to his father. No wonder she’d looked at him as if she wanted to claw his eyes out.
He pressed the intercom on his phone. “Lucy, can I see you for a sec?”
Moments later his new assistant strode in, not a strand of her short, dark hair out of place. As always her gaze strayed to Abram for a fraction longer than necessary, but his brother had his back to her and didn’t turn at her entrance.
“There’s a property that’s part of our rental program,” he said, scribbling down the address. “I want it taken off immediately and all current reservations cancelled. We’ll refund everyone and have Rita try to relocate them to another rental property of ours. If she can’t, still comp them wherever they end up staying and include something extra for the inconvenience. A bottle of champagne, whatever. I want this done by the end of the day. No excuses from Rita.”
Normally Lucy did whatever he said without question. Now her eyes widened a fraction. “Rita’s going to lose it,” Lucy said, a small grin tugging at her lips.
“She can deal with it.” Rita was the real estate agent for Abram and him, and in charge of almost all of their company’s properties. “But because you’ll have to deal with her bitching, take her out to dinner one night this month. Anywhere she wants. No limits.”
Lucy’s grin widened. “I have a feeling you might regret that when she orders a two-thousand-dollar bottle of champagne.”
He just snorted because Lucy wasn’t kidding. “Probably so. Just make it happen.” He didn’t care how much it cost him to fix this.
“I will.” Still grinning, she left, pulling the door shut behind her.
Abram turned around then, his expression unreadable. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
“We owe her.”
His lips flattened, but to Viktor’s surprise, Abram didn’t argue. “What you’re doing is insane.”
He lifted a shoulder. He’d done a lot of shitty things in his life, but seeing the face of one of his father’s victims—maybe she hadn’t been victimized directly, but Dominique’s life had been impacted greatly because of Ilya—made him need to act. To pay her back somehow. Nothing could bring back her family but he was still going to try to make things right. “You think I’m wrong?”
“No. I just don’t think she’s going to take what you’re offering.”
Maybe not, but he would still try.
Chapter 4
“What’s going on with you?” Porter’s voice made Dominique jump in her chair and nearly knock her bottle of water off her desk.
She steadied it with one hand, her heart beating faster than normal. “Nothing. Why?”
He eyed her curiously. “You’ve been acting off since that file was delivered. What’s in it?”