Let's be frank, Dominic. My father sent you here to spy on me because he's afraid of how well I'm doing. This was my last chance to prove myself and he just assumed I'd fail. Now he has to revise his definition of me. I'm not just his screw-up son anymore. Now I'm competition. And my father only knows one way of dealing with competition.
There are some things better left between patient and therapist, Lex.
You know, in ancient Persia, the kings would kill a messenger who brought them news they didn't like. In modern times, a sword in the chest might seem a little extreme. Something more subtle would be in order. Enjoying your drink?
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