Their trip into the city was slow because of traffic, and she was surprised by where Sacha Oblonsky wanted to meet. She’d been to the city plenty of times but had never set foot in Trump Tower, finding the owner and the place over the top, and not in a good way. There was a man just inside the door who took them up to the correct floor without a word.

They got out to a dimly lit corridor where two large wooden doors swung open. In any other scenario she’d have probably turned back and headed right back down. It smelled of a setup, but she’d brought enough manpower to fight her way out. Running had never been her style but neither had stupidity, so she was on high alert.

“Casey?” The large man who walked out had a smile on his face and his hands out as if he was about to embrace her.

“Cain, and you must be Sacha Oblonsky.” She took his hand and introduced him to the others. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

“You’re very convincing, and you told me a lot of things that were good to hear.” He walked them in, and the place was as tacky as the downstairs. Gilt as a decorating scheme should’ve died centuries before. “Welcome to the Hell Fire Club, or what’s left of it.”

“The FBI isn’t subtle at times, is it? And this time they got too close to what’s important to you.” There was a container full of ice with a bottle of vodka at the center surrounded by shot glasses. Vodka wasn’t her favorite, but today wasn’t the time to complain about it. “Who do you blame? Yourself, the feds, or Nicola?”

“You’re blunt for someone I just met.” He scooted to the edge of his seat and poured a shot glass for everyone. The liquor came out slowly, as if it was syrup. That it had just come out of the freezer would make it more tolerable. “I like that. Sugarcoating is for children.”

“The truth is something we all hate to face sometimes, but it’s a part of life. You’ve had something precious taken from you, and now I’d like to know how you’re going to respond.” She held up her glass, glad Sacha was still smiling. “But first, a toast. To new friendships and the truth.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He slammed the shot back and poured another. “What did you mean by losing something precious to me?”

“The business belonged to your family.” She waved her hand. “It’s gone, but you were in charge of what was left. That is, until recently. You lost out a second time.” She wondered if he’d bite, and when he sighed dramatically, she slid another piece in place.