Chapter 4 - EIGHT MONTHS MISSING
Lucy didn't answer her phone.
Mia called seven times.
Straight to voicemail.
On the eighth attempt, someone answered.
Mia shot to her feet.
"Lucy?"
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
"Miss Sullivan."
Mia's blood froze.
Roman was beside her instantly.
The speaker continued.
"You and I haven't been properly introduced."
"Where is Lucy?"
"Safe."
"If you touch her—"
"You misunderstand me. I don't want your friend."
Roman growled.
The man paused.
"Is that my brother?"
Mia said nothing.
A soft laugh came through the phone.
"Eight months, Roman. And this is where you've been reduced to? Hiding behind a waitress?"
Roman's growl deepened.
"Stop."
"Interesting."
"What?"
"He listens to you."
Mia tightened her grip on the phone.
"Where is Lucy?"
"Working."
Mia looked at Tomas.
He was already typing into another phone.
"Then why send the picture?"
"Because I wanted you to understand something."
Matteo's voice became colder.
"I don't need to hurt people to control them. I only need Roman to believe I might."
Roman stared at the phone.
"Saint Agnes. Tomorrow. Eleven thirty."
"And if we don't come?"
"Then your friend Lucy discovers how unfortunate it is to become important to a Vescari."
The call ended.
Mia stood motionless.
Roman struck the wall with one paw.
"Hey!"
He hit it again.
"Stop!"
Roman turned.
His eyes were wild.
Mia approached.
Slowly.
"You don't get to destroy things because you're angry."
He breathed hard.
"You think I don't want to scream?"
Roman lowered his head.
"My home is gone. My friend is being watched. Apparently my landlord is a murderer or a mafia spy or both."
His ears flattened.
"And I still don't understand what happened to you."
He looked at the board.
Mia carried it over.
Roman began moving letters.
It took almost an hour.
Some words were incomplete.
Some needed guesses.
But a story emerged.
Eight months earlier, Roman Vescari had been the undisputed head of the Vescari organization.
Not because he was the oldest.
Because their father had chosen him.
Matteo never forgave it.
Roman had spent years trying to make the organization legitimate.
Construction.
Shipping.
Restaurants.
Commercial real estate.
The criminal side remained, but Roman had been cutting away at it.
No narcotics.
No trafficking.
No street-level violence.
No business involving children.
Matteo considered those rules weakness.
Elias Vane agreed.
The night Roman disappeared, Matteo called him to Saint Agnes.
He claimed Elias had proof that a rival family planned to kill them both.
Roman arrived alone.
His first mistake.
Inside the chapel stood Matteo.
Elias.
And a woman Roman knew only as Serafina Orsini.
The Orsini family had served the Vescari household generations earlier.
Their grandmother had told stories about the curse.
Roman had laughed at them.
Until Serafina placed the wolf medallion around his neck.
Matteo cut his own palm.
He let the blood fall onto the silver.
Then he told Roman exactly what he had wanted his entire life.
"You should never have been chosen."
Elias confessed he'd been feeding Matteo information for years.
Roman reached for his gun.
The room went black.
When he woke, he was lying naked in snow behind Saint Agnes.
Except he wasn't naked.
And he wasn't a man.
He was inside an animal body.
A black dog.
A Cane Corso mix, perhaps.
Large enough to be dangerous.
Helpless enough to be hunted.
Roman had tried to return home.
His own guards opened fire.
Matteo had announced Roman was dead.
A rival family supposedly murdered him.
Every loyalist had been replaced or forced underground.
Roman wandered for weeks.
He couldn't speak.
Couldn't write.
Couldn't open doors.
Couldn't use money.
He could understand everything and communicate almost nothing.
For a man who had controlled hundreds of people with a single phone call, it had been its own kind of torture.
He tried finding Tomas.
Twice.
Both times Matteo's men nearly caught him.
Eventually Roman stopped trying.
Then winter became spring.
Spring became summer.
And the man who once owned buildings began surviving behind restaurants.
Mia watched him spell the last part.
A.
L.
O.
N.
E.
Her throat tightened.
"You were alone for eight months?"
One blink.
She looked at the scars hidden beneath his fur.
Some weren't from the night she found him.
"How many times did they almost catch you?"
Roman didn't answer.
"How many?"
He pushed numbers.
Mia stared.
"Twelve?"
One blink.
Rosa whispered something in Italian.
Mia sat on the floor beside him.
"You know something?"
Roman looked at her.
"I'm still mad at you."
His head tilted.
"You lied by omission."
Two blinks.
"Don't argue semantics with me using eyelids."
Rosa laughed.
Roman almost looked embarrassed.
"But I'm also sorry."
His eyes sharpened.
"For what they did."
He turned away.
Mia touched his shoulder.
Roman froze.
"They took everything."
He remained still.
"I understand that part."
His eyes returned to her.
Mia rarely spoke about her mother.
But something about Roman's silence made words easier.
"My mom got sick when I was nineteen."
Roman listened.
"Cancer. Fast."
She swallowed.
"She worked at the diner before me. She used to say there were two kinds of poor. Poor where you're behind on bills, and poor where something breaks and your whole life collapses."
Tomas stopped moving across the room.
"We became the second kind."
Mia scratched behind Roman's ear without thinking.
"I dropped out of school. Took every shift I could. It wasn't enough."
Roman's gaze remained on her.
"When she died, I owed everyone money."
She smiled faintly.
"Funeral home. Hospital. Credit cards. Landlord."
Roman glanced toward Tomas.
"Different landlord."
His expression said that wasn't funny.
"It took six years to get down to only being normal broke."
Mia sighed.
"So no, I don't understand being turned into a dog by your evil brother."
Roman's mouth opened slightly.
"But I understand watching your life disappear while everybody else keeps walking."
He leaned against her knee.
It was the first time he had done it voluntarily.
Mia went quiet.
Rosa looked away.
Tomas gave them privacy.
For several minutes there was only the sound of rain against the windows.
Then Roman stood.
He went to the board.
N.
O.
S.
A.
I.
N.
T.
A.
G.
N.
E.
S.
Mia frowned.
"You don't want to go."
One blink.
"But Matteo expects us."
Roman spelled:
T.
R.
A.
P.
"Obviously."
Then:
L.
U.
C.
Y.
S.
A.
F.
E.
Mia looked at Tomas.
"Can you guarantee that?"
"No."
"Then we go."
Roman growled.
"Don't start."
He spelled:
H.
E.
W.
A.
N.
T.
S.
M.
E.
"Yes."
Another word.
D.
E.
A.
D.
Mia crouched in front of him.
"Roman, you're already dead."
Everyone went silent.
"Legally. Publicly. According to your own people."
His ears lowered.
"What's he going to do? Kill you harder?"
Rosa choked on her coffee.
Even Tomas smiled.
Mia pointed toward the board.
"We need Matteo to confess."
Tomas nodded slowly.
"That's what the curse requires."
"So give him a reason to talk."
Roman's eyes narrowed.
"You said Matteo has his empire because people believe Roman is dead."
"Yes."
"What happens if they learn he's alive?"
Tomas's expression changed.
"He loses control."
"Exactly."
Mia stood.
"We don't walk into Saint Agnes asking Matteo to confess."
She picked up Roman's photograph.
"We make him desperate enough to explain himself."
Tomas studied her.
"You have a plan?"
"Maybe."
"Is it a good plan?"
"Probably not."
Roman stared at her.
Mia shrugged.
"You chose a waitress."
He rolled his eyes.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?"
Tomas laughed.
Roman walked away.
Then Tomas's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His smile vanished.
"What happened?"
He ended the call.
"Matteo moved the meeting."
"Where?"
"Vescari Tower."
Roman went rigid.
Tomas looked at him.
"Your old headquarters."
Mia frowned.
"Why?"
Tomas stared at the phone.
"Because tomorrow night Matteo is holding a gala."
"For what?"
"The Vescari Foundation."
Mia almost laughed.
"Of course he is."
"Three hundred guests. Judges, councilmen, businessmen, reporters."
Roman's eyes became cold.
Tomas looked at Mia.
"You wanted witnesses?"
He turned the phone around.
A photograph showed Matteo Vescari standing beneath a banner.
THE VESCARI LEGACY CONTINUES.
Tomas's voice dropped.
"Tomorrow night, you'll have three hundred."
May you like
Roman stared at his brother's smiling face.
And slowly bared his teeth.
