Page 19 of Lethal Lover

“That man’s gonna get it.” I’m still seething when Slick falls into step beside me.

“Christ, Dominic. If you have any intention of taking over for your father, you gotta stop letting people get you so fucking worked up. They get under your skin and you explode.”

Slick is a good friend and I know he means well, but now is not the time for lectures. Which is why I’m infuriated when my father’s car pulls into the intersection just as I’m about to cross the road. The door swings open and he leans out and says, “Get in.”

I have no choice. I’m a grown man—thirty-two years old—but he treats me like a teenager. Still, if I want the money and other luxuries to keep flowing in my direction, I do what he says.

Slick stands on the corner as I slide into the car and shut the door, preparing for my lecture. Club security had to have called him when that bouncer came at me the first time, and now who knows what he’s going to say.

“Dominic, I thought I told you to knock it the fuck off.” His shout is uncharacteristic. Slick’s words chiding me for my loss of temper were never truer. Dad will never give me control of the Family if I can’t contain myself. I’m shocked he raised his voice. He never raises his voice. His authority and influence over people comes from the fact that when he says he’ll do something, he follows through, and he doesn’t make idle threats.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m the one who’s calm and collected. His nostrils flare and his eyes look like they may bug out.

“You are pushing the limits of my patience. You put my staff member in the hospital with a stab wound!” My assumption is correct. They still have no way to prove it was me, but they’ve tattled to Daddy as if they do.

“Tell them to prove that, and then I’ll admit guilt.”

Dad sits back and straightens his tie, calming himself. “A farmer has a herd of sheep and two sheep dogs. They help him keep the sheep safe and guide them to and from the barns for grazing.” His eyes turn on me as he continues his little parable. “One day, one of the dogs bites a sheep, and it makes the sheep get sick and die. The farmer is out that sheep. He can’t use the wool. He can’t eat the meat. And worst of all, the sheep are all afraid of the dog. What will he do?”

“The fuck would I know?” I don’t even care. He thinks I’m supposed to learn something from his stupid stories, but I don’t even understand them.

“The man will put the dog down. His sheep need protection, not to be harmed.” He scowls at me and I know that look. A threat is coming. “You are the dog, Dominic. And you’re scaring my sheep. I have them trained to obey my voice, and I won’t allow you to step in and tarnish my authority. And more than that, you will bring shame upon my name everywhere else too.

“The authorities are looking at who may have stabbed that man. He isn’t talking, but it isn’t because he wasn’t going to. I can’t keep cleaning up your messes. Get your act together or I'll put you down."

The car stops abruptly and he stares out the window. It's my clue to get out, so I take it eagerly. I climb out and stand on the street corner to wait for Slick, who I know has been following Dad’s car. I sigh in frustration and think about his words. His threats aren’t empty. He makes promises and he keeps them.

The few “mistakes” I’ve made, or those made by people doing work for me, have been rash and stupid. My father kills peoplefor personal gain, destroys property and lives to get what he wants. He just doesn’t get caught because he plans every detail. I’m the irrationally out-of-control son who leaves evidence in my wake, and he’s right.

I’m not the dog nipping at the sheep’s heel. I’m the master, controlling the dogs. He doesn’t care that I stabbed that man. He cares that I left a witness who can point back to me. He doesn’t care that I had Elena’s director mugged. He cares that the mugger got identified. And he won’t give a single fuck when he learns I had that actress killed, so long as I don’t get caught or make waves. He’s teaching me a valuable lesson, and it’s one I can use over and over in life.

As much as I hate his parenting style, I’m a better man for it. Because I get what I want, when I want it. I just have to learn to be neater about getting it. Make fewer messes, and have less to clean up later on. And fewer oopsies like when Elena found my watch.

Slick pulls up, and I climb in a changed man. One step closer to being the Don my father can be proud of. One step closer to owning everything about Elena Cortez for as long as I want her.

12

ELENA

The theater was quiet as I walked in, my bag feeling strangely light on my shoulder. It was the lull week between shows, a rare break from the hectic schedule of performing every night. The city was buzzing with other major events, so the theater had decided to shut down for the week, giving us a much-needed reprieve from competing for an audience's attention. But even in this moment of calm, I knew it wouldn't last long and that soon, we would be back on stage, pouring our hearts out under the spotlight once again.

I breeze through the doors, headed toward the auditorium for warmups and training with Warren, Trixie, and the rest of the gang, but I don’t want to carry my change of clothes with me. So, I stop by my dressing room first, where I find a huge stack of mail again. After the review last weekend highlighting the entire team and how well we redeemed the show after Nina’s accident, I can only imagine how many of these letters are going to offer the highest praise.

I dump my bag on my vanity and sit down in my swivel chair to open a few letters. The first one is from a young woman whohopes one day to be on a stage here in New York. She asks me if I can give her some advice on how to make that dream a reality, and I set the letter aside with the intent to respond to her since I have extra time this week. The next letter is thick, loaded down with several sheets of paper that seem daunting to read, but I read every letter sent to me. Still, this one I set aside. I have a few spare minutes, not an hour.

Three letters later and I’m glancing at the clock. With time for only one more, I select one in a pink envelope with a heart drawn on the back. From the feel of it, it has a greeting card inside, which means limited text to read. So, I use my finger to tear the top edge of the envelope open and pull it out. On the front is a shiny red rose and the words,Break a Leg, but when I open it, the tone shifts entirely.

It's one of those types of cards that have no print on them, left plain so you can send your own greeting. This writing is familiar too. I recognize it from previous letters I’ve opened. It’s the same creepy person who keeps sending me mail that contains veiled threats or dark warnings. I keep getting these. I’ve gotten four total so far, and each one has been darker than the previous one.

My hand shakes a little as I read through it, one menacing word at a time. This one is the worst, and I feel my gut turning to lead.

Elena,

We’re getting closer now, to the time you learn who I am. I know you’re probably excited to meet me, but maybe you shouldn’t be. Maybe you should be scared of me and of what I’m capable of doing. You’re not the only one with a special talent. I can show you everything I’m able to do and the things I’ll do for you.

Would you like me to do things for you, Elena? Horrible, awful things? I can help you. I’m sure you want to remove obstacles from your way so you can rise to the top unhindered. Let me help you. Your wish is my command.

See you soon.

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