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Lena’s phone buzzed, and she and Marisol gathered their bags, chattering about rehearsal schedules and costume fittings as they disappeared down the hall.
The second the door swung shut behind them, I swiveled back toward Teresa, my curiosity practically vibrating out of my skin.
“Okay,” I said, dropping my voice. “Now that it’s just us—tell me more.”
Teresa gave me a long, suffering look over the rim of her coffee mug.
“About what?”
I leaned forward, planting my elbows on her cluttered desk.
“I saw Elias last night. At Dominion Hall.”
Teresa stiffened, just a tiny flicker of tension across her shoulders, but I caught it.
“So,” I pressed, “is he …?”
I trailed off, letting the question hang.
Teresa sighed heavily, setting her mug down with a clunk.
“Yes. He’s a Dane.”
I blinked.
“That’s ... bad?”
“That’s complicated,” she corrected grimly. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“Dominion Hall isn’t just some rich boys’ clubhouse, Vivi. It’s a fortress. Built by the Dane brothers after they came back from the military—special ops, black ops, whatever you want to call it. Nobody really knows what all they did overseas, but whatever it was? It stuck. They run a business now, a legit one, probably, but ...” She trailed off, her expression pinched.
“But what?”
Teresa hesitated like she was weighing how much she could say without getting struck by lightning.
“They’re dangerous men, Vivi. Not just in the ‘ooh, bad boy with a motorcycle’ way. Real dangerous. Connections, power, money, the kind of loyalty that gets people buried when they step out of line.”
I felt a thrill shiver through me, and not the smart kind.
“So Elias isn’t just some hacker who fixes office computers on the side?”
Teresa snorted. “No. He’s the guy who could crash the city's infrastructure if he wanted to. Elias likes to stay out of the public eye, but make no mistake—he's just as brutal as the others when it comes to protecting what's his.”
The weight of her words settled between us, heavy and real.
I twirled a loose curl around my finger, trying to look casual even though my heart was pounding a little harder.
“So you’re saying I should stay far, far away.”
Teresa’s gaze sharpened, cutting through the bravado I was barely holding together.
“I’m saying don’t get mixed up in things you don’t understand. And don’t expect him to play by rules you’re used to.”
For a long moment, we just stared at each other—the office humming quietly around us, the sound of distant piano scales bleeding through the studio walls.
Finally, I shrugged, pushing up from the chair.
“Good talk,” I said lightly, slinging my bag over my shoulder.