Chapter 1 - TABLE FOUR
Money could buy a private jet, a Manhattan penthouse, and a table at one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York.
It could not prevent a person from underestimating someone standing directly in front of them.
Cassidy Brooks moved almost invisibly through the dining room of Le Rêve.
At twenty-eight, she wore a perfectly pressed black uniform, carried vintage wine without spilling a drop, and remembered exactly which billionaire hated sparkling water and which senator pretended not to eat dessert.
To the people dining beneath soft gold lighting, Cassidy was part of the machinery.
Pour.
Serve.
Clear.
Disappear.
They did not know she had once spent four years working as a high-level translator across Eastern Europe.
They did not know she spoke Russian fluently enough to recognize the difference between Moscow slang and a textbook accent.
And they certainly did not know why she had walked away from that career.
That evening, every staff member was watching table four.
Simon, the general manager, approached Cassidy near the host stand.
“It’s Dominic Pierce.”
She glanced over.
Dominic was in his late thirties, handsome in the aggressive, expensive way magazines liked.
Technology.
Private equity.
Hostile takeovers.
Thousands laid off beneath signatures he considered efficient.
With him sat Victor Sokolov and Natalia Orlova, two executives whose Eastern European logistics network controlled access Dominic had spent two years trying to secure.
“He came without a reservation,” Simon whispered. “Threatened to buy the building if I didn’t seat him.”
Cassidy almost smiled.
“Charming.”
“He’s notorious for getting staff fired.”
“Also charming.”
Simon lowered his voice.
“Whatever happens, do not let him provoke you.”
Cassidy picked up three crystal water glasses.
“I’ve dealt with worse men than Dominic Pierce.”
Simon stared.
She smiled politely.
“Professionally.”
Then she approached table four.
Dominic was boasting loudly.
“I told the board the CEO could resign by midnight or I’d bury the entire company.”
Victor listened without expression.
Natalia looked bored.
Cassidy understood the table immediately.
Dominic believed he was impressing them.
He wasn’t.
“Good evening,” Cassidy said. “May I offer—”
Dominic raised one finger.
Silencing her.
He waited ten full seconds before looking up.
“We don’t want water, sweetheart.”
Cassidy remained still.
“Bring us the 1982 Cheval Blanc.”
She knew exactly what would happen next.
May you like
That vintage had been sold out for three weeks.
And Dominic Pierce was clearly a man who considered the word no a personal insult.
