Page 3 of His Pet

My vision darkens, and my blood runs cold. There are many things I don’t take personally. Money, for one. Sneaking prostitutes into my hotel to steal my clientele is both disrespectful and cowardly, but it isn’t personal. It isn’t about me. It’s about my money. My cats, however, are mine. They are personal.

Joe turns me toward the den and points. “Boss, look at them. They’re well taken care of. You make sure they have a good life. There isn’t going to be any evidence of animal cruelty because none exists.”

Except, there was that fucking ring of fire incident, and I didn’t stop the performances. Mario sat out for a month, of course, but my cats love the shows. They were born to train for the spotlight. It’s what keeps them happy. It’s what they live for. I would never take that away from them.

Whoever is coming here has made up their mind before they’ll even step through the door.

“Let it run its course.”

“Sir?”

“We do anything corrupt now, and it’ll only make the voices louder. Let the investigation happen, let it run its course, and let them shut up on their own. Once it’s done, we’ll get the cats back if it comes to that.”

Joe thinks for a minute then nods in agreement. “Yes, sir.”

I stare down at Lucian and wonder how I let this protesting shit go on. How they could manage to take my friend.

Joe steps away from the railing and walks toward the door, knowing better than to interrupt my thinking right now.

“Joe?” I call, not looking back.

“Yes sir?”

“I want you to find out who’s responsible for this… then bring them to me.”