Page 94 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
Not Vincent.
What’s wrong with me?
“Look at me and then look at that picture on the wall,” he says, referring to the large canvas framed of him with his family.
And I look at it, but I don’t really look at it. Instead, my mind is reeling, because I’m an idiot. I’m a hotheaded idiot that got angry and didn’t think. Didn’t stop to realize that there are other ways to track me without following me. Cameras. Like the ones Dex, John and I share.
And this sure as hell isn’t Dex.
How did I get this so wrong?
Regret churns violently in my stomach, and I force myself to look at the picture, because it’s the least I can do. In it, Vince is vibrant. He’s full of life. Healthy. The man before me isn’t frail—I don’t think Vince could ever be frail—but he certainly doesn’t look like the man in the picture.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. The changes were so gradual, happening in such little, tiny baby steps that after a change happened, I’d get used to it, and then the next and the next and the next and so on. And now, here I am. Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.
The biggest asshole.
“Are you sick?” I ask Vince as I lean forward to cut his binds.
I hand him an extra knife, and together we make our way to the guards, but as soon as I cut Sergio’s binds, he tries to restrain me. Since I deserve it and worse, I don’t even put up a fight, though we both know I can easily best him in one.
“Let him go,” Vince orders, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sergio does.
“Are you sick?” I ask again. “What’s wrong with you? Why haven’t you told anyone?”
He sighs. “I have cancer. It’s late stage, and it isn’t going away. I have time left, but it’s not much. I don’t want to put myself through chemotherapy, and I wanted to give Asher and Lucy time to enjoy their honeymoon before I tell anyone.” He looks at me expectantly.
“I won’t tell Asher until you’re ready to,” I promise, though the promise makes me uneasy.
Asher would want to know. Right away.
“And you won’t tell anyone about what you did tonight,” he orders.
“But—”
“Asher is going to need you when he finds out. He won’t say anything to you, but he will need you. If you must, you can tell him later. Much later.”
“I’m so—” I start to apologize, but the words get stuck in my throat, strangled by the emotion there.
“It’s okay,” Vince insists. “You didn’t know.”
But it’s not okay.
Because Vincent Romano has always been kind to me. He’s always treated me like a son, and ever since I met him, he’s had my best interests at heart.
And this is how I repaid him.
Fuck, I’m a monster.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Resentment is like drinking
poison and then hoping it will
kill your enemies.
Nelson Mandela
