Dane

"She used to be a webcam girl, during college."

​​

Dane's mouth dropped open. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"And that was all she needed? What kind of webcam girl?"

"She catered to a very specific fetish," his father said. "But she has a real job now—or at least, she used to. She was… unwilling to have that revealed and associated with her normal identity. That and the threat against her family… it was easy, really. She was no challenge at all," his father said, like he was irritated about it.

Dane snorted. "Still looking for the game, huh?"

"I imagine that you suffer some of my pain, Dane. You're an intelligent man. Don't you ever find the utter stupidity and simplicity of the people around you… boring?"

Dane shrugged. "I always had interesting problems to solve. Between the criminal element going after my clients, and your machinations… I never had time to get bored."

"Huh. Perhaps I should have taken my finger off the button for longer. I might have gotten you back through sheer boredom," his father said good-naturedly.

There was an odd moment in Dane's mind, then, an understanding between them. He knew his father ,and his father thought he knew Dane. They were oddly comfortable in each other's presence. It was something that had always messed with Dane's head. He was terrified of his father, terrified of what he would do. But when the man just sat down and talked, if you ignored the brutal way he used people and discussed their downfalls… Dane understood him.

It was extremely weird. Although he did his best to hide anything valuable from his father, he remained mostly honest with him in a way he couldn't with others.

His father would never judge him for his rage.

His father would never prioritize another person over him.

Whatever kind of sick love or admiration his father was capable of, he held it for Dane. It made Dane wish they could have been sitting here, in a real business—a legal one. That they could have matched wits rather than swords.

That his father wasn't a sadistic killer.

And that made his head spin. Made him question himself, and just how deeply his father had gotten into his head.

How was it possible to hate someone and wish them dead, and also love them and wish for a better relationship?

He didn't know. He just knew he was going to have to do something before he started falling for his father's lines and ended up actually giving himself over to this life.

Because, as always happened when a person spent any real time in his father's presence, Dane was beginning to see the world a little differently.

And it wasn't good.

He sat forward and rubbed his hands through his hair again, trying to loosen up his shoulders. "When did you get Chris?" he asked, curious.

His father glanced up from the papers he'd begun to read, obviously measuring whether he should be honest in his answer or not. Dane waited.

"It was… let's see… I'm going to say four years ago?" he said thoughtfully, though Dane knew the vagueness was an act. His father had a perfect memory. He didn't just know when he got Chris, he knew exactly how and where.

"So, after I started the company."

"Not too long after, but yes."

"What was the tipping point for him?" Dane asked, curious. "How did you get to him? If you've had him out there, loose and close to me, then you trust him. You must either have something really good on him, or… he came willingly?"

"Chris was an interesting one, I'll admit," he said, frowning, his eyes distant. "He was reluctant at first. It was necessary to persuade him. But the real key surprised me."

"What was it?"

His father met his gaze, eyes glinting like a knife. "Jealousy."

Dane blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It turns out, your brother harbors a deep and abiding envy of you and your life, Dane. That you knew your father," he indicated himself. "That your mother treated you better because you were the older son. That you became handsome, taller… and eventually that you were more well known, that you made more money—and now, that you found the perfect wife."

Dane ground his teeth and didn't respond.

His father chuckled. "Speaking of jealousy."

"He went to you because of… sibling rivalry?" Dane said through his teeth.

His father looked at him, blank faced. "You'd be surprised what drives people, Dane. I can't believe you haven't already learned how petty people can be. Now just understand that those same emotional ties that drive people to small injustices, also drive them into much, much bigger ones."

Dane scowled, looking away from his father.

"Don't be concerned, Son. I have control. He'll only do what I tell him to."

"Forgive me if, when it comes to Lila, I don't feel comforted by that. Was that your hand on her thigh in the picture?" he spat.

His father shrugged. "You should be grateful it wasn't worse. I did it to make a point. She really is too… chirpy for my taste. If I'd handed her to Felix…" he let the unspoken threat trail off and Dane's throat caught, because of course, he was right.

In a perverted way, Dane was grateful that his father had taken care of Lila himself. Although ultimately he was the worst threat. He also knew that his father wanted him and that would keep him from taking certain actions too quickly. The other men in his employ… they would have used her.

"Thank you," he ground out, letting his frustration and fear and genuine relief all show on his face.

His father smiled. "You know I love you, son. The only reason we've ever conflicted has been because you resist me. If you'd just relax… No one will take better care of you than me."

Dane nodded. There was a strange truth to it—at least from his father's perspective, he knew. He hated those thoughts. Hated the way he felt like he was slipping. Losing himself. Knew that was exactly what his father wanted.

And that it was also exactly what he had to give in to if he was going to succeed in this.

"Like I said," he said quietly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome.