Page 194 of By A Thread

“Always in a rush,” he laughed in a facsimile of fatherly affection that wasn’t fooling anyone. “All right, my boy. I’ll cut to the chase.”

“You do that.”

Ally squeezed my hand.

“I need a little something to tide me over until the divorce settlement,” he said. “You know your mother. She’s dragging this out just to annoy me. I need a few hundred thousand.”

Ally’s eyes went wide.

“Salary fromIndulgencenot cutting it?”

My father’s charm cooled.Indulgencewas a respected publication. But it was noLabel. We both knew it.

“That’s neither here nor there,” he insisted.

The only time things mattered, the only time the world was supposed to care, was when Paul Russo was winning.

“I tell you what, Dad. I’ll give you the money.”

Ally’s eyebrows winged up.

My father looked surprised, then smug. “I appreciate that, son.”

“I’m not finished. I’ll give you the money when you pay Mom and me back for the cash settlementswepaid toyourvictims.”

Our joined hands were vibrating, and I didn’t know if it was Ally’s fear or my rage.

“Oh, please. We both know those girls were just looking to make a quick buck—”

I rose so quickly my chair nearly overturned. “I’ll show you out,” I said coldly. “It’s time for you to go.”

He rose and straightened his jacket. He gave Ally another appraising look. “If you ever get tired of Dominic—”

I clamped a hand on his shoulder and walked him out of the restaurant, barely resisting the urge to throw him into the planter at the entrance.

“I don’t need an escort,” he complained. “I need money.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your needs. You stay away from Mom. You stay away from me. And you stay the fuck away from Ally, or you will regret that you ever called me son.”

“I don’t appreciate threats,” he sneered.

“This isn’t a threat. This is a promise. Remember that the only reason you still have a job in this industry is because Mom and I kept our mouths shut about your pathological inability to understand consent. And I’m getting very tired of keeping secrets.”

“Everyone has indiscretions. Look at you fucking a secretary. You can’t escape your blood, boy.”

An icy rage squeezed at my chest. I wanted to physically hurt him. To make him feel just a degree of the pain he’d caused others.

“Indiscretions? Try assaults,” I spat out. “We paid your victims for the suffering you caused. And if you think you’re getting another dime from Mom, I will personally see to it that every single one of your victims files criminal charges and civil suits against you. I won’t rest until the world knows that you are nothing but a disgusting piece of trash.”

“Don’t be so naive, Dominic,” he snarled. “They aren’t innocent victims in all of this. Women are attracted to power, to what you can provide for them. What has that girl in there gotten out of you? A few pretty baubles? Some couture in her closet? Did she make it look like it was your idea? Wake up, son. We’re all just using each other.”

“Stay away from us,” I said again, not wanting his words to penetrate my brain, but they were already burrowing in and releasing their poison. “I’m not protecting you anymore. I’ll burn down the family name if I have to.”

“You’d better rethink that strategy, my boy. I can do quite a bit of damage to your mother. You think I was the only one who strayed? That I was the only one with predilections?”

I was shaking my head. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your lying mouth.”

He leaned in, and I could smell scotch on his breath. Because of course he’d already started indulging. Paul Russo didn’t know how not to. “Your mother, those girls, that secretary in there? They’re the liars, and you’re just the fool who fell for the lies.”