Lethal Seduction Read Free Page A

about-to-be-canceled daytime soap that paid shit and nobody watched. Damn him!
    Now Rosarita wanted out because she’d met someone else, someone of substance with an attitude to match her own and an even bigger dick than Dexter’s—who was no slouch in the size department. Someone she planned to go places with.
    But how could she go anywhere with a loser husband trailing along behind her?
    When she’d brought up the subject of divorce, Dexter had freaked. “Over my dead body,” he’d said.
    Well . . . if that’s the way he wanted it . . .
    â€œI thought you was so in love,” Chas said, swigging from a large glass of scotch. “I gave ya the big fuckin’ weddin’ with all the trimmin’s—exactly like ya wanted. I bought you a fuckin’ house an’ a fuckin’ Nazi car. I thought you was all set.”
    â€œSorry, I’m not,” Rosarita said, gritting her teeth. “Dex is a deadbeat actor with no prospects, and I want you to get rid of him for me.”
    â€œJust like that,” Chas said, wondering how he’d managed to get himself such a difficult daughter. Her year-younger sister, Venice, was a sweetheart with two kids and a down-to-earth husband who sold insurance for a living. Why couldn’t Rosarita be more like her? “I warned ya about marryin’ a fuckin’ actor,” he said dourly. “They got bird crap for brains, not ta mention fagola tendencies.”
    â€œHe’s not gay,” Rosarita sniffed, insulted that Chas would think that any man who was with her might be gay. “Merely dumb.”
    â€œI told ya,” Chas grumbled. “Only you wouldn’t listen.”He put on an exaggerated voice. “Miss I-gotta-have-everythin’-the-moment-I-want-it.”
    â€œDaddy!” Rosarita wailed, changing tactics because she knew how to play him like a violin. “Please help your little girl. I need you.”
    Chas could barely resist Rosarita when she was sweet—during those rare times she reminded him of her dear departed mother who’d died giving birth to Venice, leaving him alone with a newborn baby and an infant to raise. In his opinion he’d done a good job—with the help of an army of girlfriends—none of whom had lasted more than a few months. Chas Vincent was not a one-woman man. He liked big tits and a closed mouth. Two or three months into the game and they got on his nerves with their whiny demands and money-spending ways.
    Maybe Rosarita took after him when it came to living with someone. He couldn’t blame her. Dexter Falcon was a white-bread putz with only a pretty face to get him through life. He had no balls, Chas could’ve told his daughter that the first time he met the dumb shit. Rosarita should’ve fucked him out of her system. But no, she’d had to marry the asshole.
    Her wedding had cost a fuckin’ fortune. Rosarita demanded—and got—only the best. Now Chas had a powerful urge to say, “I told you so.” But his strong-willed kid didn’t take kindly to criticism, so he choked back the words and patted Rosarita on her bony shoulder as she tried to perch on his knee, tears streaming down her cheeks.
    They were actually tears of frustration and anger because she was having to fight to get her own way, but Chas didn’t know that. “What shall we do, Daddy?” she sniffled. “I’m . . . so . . . miserable. Dex is so mean to me.”
    â€œGet a divorce,” Chas suggested, sure that if Dexter was mean to her, he had good reason.
    â€œDon’t you understand—he won’t give me one,” she moaned. “And that means I’ll have to wait and go through lawyers and depositions and all that horrible, degrading stuff. He’s threatening to go after half of everything I own. I don’t want to wait, Daddy. It’s not fair.” A pause for a