Page 104 of Ruthless Vow
“You thought what?”
Silence.
“You watched my father die.”
His face changes. The kind of fear that knows it’s crossed a line it can’t come back from.
“I was there. I was just there.”
“You were there.”
I put down the pliers. Reach for the next tool.
The kneecap is a small bone. Fragile. It doesn’t take much.
Romano screams until his voice breaks.
“More names. Everyone. Every contact, every meeting, every dollar that changed hands.”
He gives me everything. Sobbing. Broken. Two years of betrayal spilling out between ragged breaths.
I memorize it all. Every name. Every date. Every location.
When he’s done, when there’s nothing left, I step back. Look at what remains of the man who poisoned my brother.
Still breathing. Still conscious. Tougher than expected. Won’t matter soon.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” The words come out in a whisper. Raw from screaming.
I’m at the utility sink. The water runs red, then pink, then clear.
“He’s dead by now, most likely.” Romano coughs. Blood flecks his lips. “I made sure of it.”
I don’t remember moving.
One second I’m at the sink. The next I have him by the throat, chair tipping backward, his broken body dangling from my grip.
“What did you say?”
He can’t answer. Can’t breathe.
The funeral. Neither of us cried. Someone had to hold the others together.
I let go.
Romano crashes to the floor, chair and all. Gasping.
“You don’t get to talk about him.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. “You don’t get to say his name.”
He’s coughing. Wheezing. Trying to breathe through a half-crushed throat.
I right the chair. Drag him upright.
Then I go to the cabinet.
The vial is old. The liquid inside is amber.
“Do you know what this is?”
