Page 30 of Lavish

I still had that number.

Wasn’t your life fucking ruined when you called before?The last time I’d called, our lives had already been destroyed, and it hadn’t been easy sweeping that under the rug. No. I wouldn’t call.

A knock at the front door startled me. I froze when I saw who was on the other side.

“Surprise, surprise.” Mayor Dante Castillo was leaning against my door frame.

What shit have I gotten into now?

“Look who left the marble throne for the slums. Whatever you think I did, I had a good reason for it.”

His expression didn’t budge.

“Unless,” I added, “you’re here to donate. In which case, I’m thrilled to accept money, favors, or women.”

“Evening, Miles. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time,” Dante said, looking over my shoulder.

“What you want?” I narrowed my gaze on him, blocking him from entering as he stood straight. “We ain’t friends.”

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?”

We stared at each other before I stepped back, and Dante strolled in like he owned the place.

“Quite the mess you’ve got here,” he noted as glass crunched under his foot and he looked at me. “Thought you could afford a maid again.”

“I know about them wild-ass orgies you be throwing. Don’t let me start talking to folks. Wouldn’t look too good with reelection creeping up.”

Dante’s smile thinned. “I need humor like that on my team. You should come around city hall more.”

“My bad, homie, I don’t do politics,” I said with a smirk. “You want tea? Sparkling water? Maybe a lil’ foot rub?”

He grunted, looking around my house before making himself comfortable on the couch.

“Have you turned on the news yet?”

“You interrupted my evening to come over here to watch the news?”

“Turn on the damn TV, Miles,” Dante said, all the charm drained from his voice.

I flipped through a few channels before landing on a news station.

“Whitmore Ventures under fire with allegations of unsafe work conditions,” the news anchor announced.

My stomach fucking dropped.

The camera panned to my office building, a group of my guys standing out front. The anchor walked over to one of them and shoved the microphone in his face.“Can you describe the conditions at the site?”

“It’s dangerous. You don’t come home the same after a day on those sites. I saw people hurt—bad. But they told us to keep working anyway. There’s nothing they care about more than profit.”

“That’s fucking bullshit!” I growled.

Dante didn’t even blink. He shifted in the chair, lazily adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, his expression unreadable. “Is it?”

“Where the fuck is Carlus?” I turned sharply toward him, reaching for my phone to call him.

“Employees have been risking their lives every day, and Whitmore Ventures has turned a blind eye to it all,” the worker continued. “We’re not asking for much, just basic safety measures, but they’ve refused to listen. Currently we have a coworker in the hospital, and Miles Whitmore and his construction manager are hiding it.”

Of course, nameme.