Chapter 4 - THE RECKONING AT STERLING’S
Down in the Loop, David Sterling’s world had dissolved into a very different kind of mathematics.
Without the Kane Hospitality backing, and with every commercial real estate landlord in Chicago suddenly refusing to renew his leases, Sterling’s Bistro didn't last another week.
On a rainy Wednesday afternoon, the iconic gold-plated sign above the restaurant was unscrewed by two workmen in muddy boots.
David stood on the wet sidewalk, wearing an overcoat that suddenly looked too big for him, clutching a cardboard box filled with framed restaurant reviews and a half-empty bottle of scotch. His brand-new guardsman-red Porsche was parked at the curb, its tires clamped with a bright yellow municipal boot for unpaid parking tickets and tax liens.
A sleek black town car glided silently to a halt beside the curb.
The tinted rear window rolled down smoothly.
David turned his head, his face turning the color of chalk as he recognized the man sitting in the back seat.
Vincent Kane didn't look out at him. He didn't even turn his head. He was reading a financial report on a tablet, the blue light reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses.
Marcus, the flat-nosed bodyguard, leaned out of the front passenger window and looked at Sterling with cold indifference.
"Mr. Kane sends his regards, David," Marcus said smoothly. "And by the way... your parking meter expired three minutes ago."
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David dropped his cardboard box. The framed reviews shattered against the wet concrete, glass scattering across the pavement like broken stars.
Inside the town car, Vincent didn't flinch. He simply swiped to the next page of his report, turned the page of his empire, and let the rain wash the rest away.
