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“Before I forget, there’s a letter for you on the table.” She gestured with her spatula.
“A letter? Doesn’t our mail usually come in the middle of the afternoon?” I glanced at the clock on the microwave, making sure I hadn’t misread the time.
“Someone slipped it under our front door,” Vanessa replied with a shrug. “No return address or stamp or anything. I’m thinking it’s from someone in the building. Maybe that cute guy one floor up?”
“Really? A letter from a cute guy?” I asked as I sat down. “What are we, Jane Austen characters?”
“Letter writing can be romantic,” Vanessa said earnestly.
“It’s also how horror movies start,” I pointed out, glancing at the front of the envelope where my name was printed in block letters.
I tore it open and found a single sheet of computer paper with a typed message on it. It wasn’t long, but it got straight to the point.
Convince your boss to sell or you and your roommate are the first to pay for his stupidity. And if I can find you, I can find anyone else who works there. Find and make them disappear. No one will miss a bunch of whores. You got twenty-four hours to get it done. After that, I start with the redhead.
My stomach lurched, and I bolted to my feet.
“Sienna?” Vanessa turned, concern threading through her voice.
“I, uh, need a tampon,” I blurted, the first thing that popped into my head, and practically ran to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
My mind raced as fast as my heart, and I slid down the door to sit on the floor. I stared down at the paper still clenched in my hand, and one thought struck me: I should let go so I wasn’t potentially messing up evidence.
That was quickly followed by the memory of how little the cops had cared about Lulu being assaulted. Chances were, they’d take one look at this letter and laugh. They might even accuse me of writing it myself to get attention or some other bullshit like that.
Except I knew this was connected to Arthur Dalton and what he’d done to Club Privé and Fury’s office.
And a part of me suspected that my ‘mugging’ hadn’t been about stealing fifty bucks from my purse.
Knowing it and proving it, however, were two different things. Because I knew about the vandalism and about who my boss and my … whatever Fury was, the accusation of me making it up could still stand. And it could take attention off finding the real culprit.
But I couldn’t just ignore the threat either. Not when it wasn’t just me being threatened.
“Sienna, are you okay?” Vanessa knocked softly on my bedroom door.
“I’m fine.” I forced the words out. “Just cramps. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and rested my forehead on my knees. What was I going to do about her? I didn’t want to tell her about the letter, especially since she didn’t know about anything else except me getting hurt, and she thought that was just a run-of-the-mill sort of city crime. But I’d never forgive myself if she got hurt because of me.
Then another thought hit me.
It wasn’t because of me. I hadn’t done shit to deserve this. Gavin and Fury were the ones who’d pissed Arthur off. I’d just been collateral damage because of my connections to both men.
I was calling Fury before I even realized I’d gone to him instead of Gavin, even though his employees were being threatened.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, I was just getting ready to call you.”
Something in his tone told me he wasn’t talking about a personal call. “What happened?”
“You first.”
I wasn’t going to waste time arguing. “I got a letter threatening Vanessa, me, and my co-workers if I don’t convince Gavin to sell the club.”
“Dammit.” He sighed. “Gavin and I each got one too. Delivered to our homes without a return address or postage.”
