CHAPTER SEVEN:BACKGROUND CHECKS.

Dominique sat behind his grandiose desk, his piercing gaze fixed on the sprawling cityscape outside his office window. The opulence of his surroundings bespoke his billionaire status, with Mali-inspired decor exuding dominance in every corner. He leaned back in his plush leather chair, exuding an air of calm authority despite the simmering tension beneath the surface.

As he awaited the arrival of his private investigator, his mind replayed the encounter with Kalina, the girl whose insolence had ignited his ire. His jaw clenched imperceptibly, a silent testament to the lingering resentment he harbored towards her.

A gentle knock interrupted his reverie, and his personal assistant's voice pierced through the silence like a melodic chime. "Mr. Castillo, your private investigator is here to see you," she announced with deference, her poised demeanor a stark contrast to the palpable intensity in the room.

"Send him in," Dominique commanded in a voice that brooked no argument, his steely gaze never leaving the expanse beyond the window. As his assistant retreated, he closed his laptop with a decisive click, the movement precise and calculated.

He uncrossed his legs and rose from his seat with a fluid motion, his tailored suit exuding power as he strode across the room to a sleek mini table nestled by the floor-to-ceiling window. With deliberate grace, he poured himself a generous measure of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the sunlight filtering through the glass.

Each gesture spoke volumes of his commanding presence, his body language a symphony of controlled aggression and unwavering resolve. As he took a sip, the burn of the whiskey mirrored the fire that smoldered within him, fueling his determination to teach Kalina a lesson she won't be forgetting for a long time.

The ominous presence of Dominique filled the room as he stood beside his floor to ceiling window, a drink in hand his gaze fixed on the door with an unwavering intensity. A sharp knock shattered the silence, and with a commanding voice, Dominique called out, "Enter."

The door creaked open, revealing the nervous figure of the private investigator. His entire demeanor radiated unease, his body language betraying the palpable fear that gripped him in Dominique's presence.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Castillo," the investigator stammered, his voice trembling slightly as he greeted the formidable billionaire.

With a curt nod, Dominique acknowledged the greeting, his expression unreadable as he watched the investigator approach with an air of trepidation. The investigator extended the file towards Dominique, his hand trembling ever so slightly as he presented the documents.

Dominique accepted the file with a dismissive gesture, his gaze never wavering from the pages before him. With deliberate precision, he set down the glass of whiskey he had been holding, the clink of crystal against glass echoing in the tense atmosphere of the room.

As Dominique delved into the contents of the file, the private investigator stood rooted to the spot, his entire body tense with anticipation. He fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting around the room as he awaited Dominique 's verdict.

Minutes passed in agonizing silence as Dominique pored over the documents with meticulous scrutiny. Finally, he looked up, his expression betraying a hint of satisfaction. "You may leave," he declared, his voice commanding and final.

Relief flooded the investigator's features as he stammered out a grateful thank you, his eagerness to escape Dominique's presence palpable. With a swift nod, he hastily made his exit, his steps quickening as if propelled by an invisible force, leaving behind the oppressive aura of Dominique 's dominance.

As the door clicked s hut behind the departing investigator, Dominique 's shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension draining from his frame like water from a sieve. He strode purposefully to the plush sofa nestled in the corner of his opulent office, the file clasped tightly in one hand while the other cradled his almost untouched glass of whiskey.

With a practiced ease, he lowered himself onto the sofa, the supple leather yielding beneath his weight. Setting the file down on the glass table before him, he unbuttoned his impeccably tailored Armani suit jacket, the fabric whispering softly as it fell open.

Leaning back against the cushions, Dominique exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed intently on the file splayed out before him. As he scanned the pages, his lips moved silently, forming words that echoed through the silent room.

"So she's 24," he murmured aloud, his voice carrying a note of calculated interest. "Runs a flower shop, huh? Following in her adoptive parent's footsteps." A hint of amusement flickered across his features before being replaced by a mask of cold determination.

"Business degree, high grades," he continued, his tone tinged with a hint of disdain. "Smart, but naive." Each word dripped with disdain as he mentally dissected the information laid out before him.

His brow furrowed as he reached a particular section of the file, his eyes narrowing in calculation. "Best friend… boyfriend absconded with her savings," he muttered, his voice tinged with a predatory gleam. "Leaving her business on the brink of collapse."

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Dominique's lips as he closed the file with a decisive snap. Rising to his feet, he crossed the room to his desk with purposeful strides, the soft click of his shoes against the polished floor echoing in the silent office.

Reaching for his phone, he punched in a familiar number with practiced precision, his voice low and commanding as he issued instructions to his driver slash bodyguard. "Bring the car around," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "I have urgent business to attend to."

With a final glance around his office, Dominique 's lips twisted into a smirk of anticipation. "Let's go pay my future wife a visit, shall we?" he murmured to himself, the promise of confrontation sparking a predatory gleam in his eyes as he strode purposefully towards the door, leaving the file and his half finished glass of whiskey behind in his wake.