Chapter 2 - THE MEN ON MY STREET
Roman Bellandi did not kick my door down.
That somehow made him more frightening.
He waited.
Three calm knocks.
Then silence.
Outside my window, men stood beside black SUVs while my neighbors watched through curtains.
Lucy clutched Moonie against her chest.
Ruth whispered, “Whatever you do, don’t insult him.”
I looked at her.
“You know him?”
“I know newspapers.”
“I don’t read crime news.”
“That must be peaceful.”
Iris stood near my kitchen.
Barefoot.
Still weak.
Terrified.
“You said he’s your brother.”
“He is.”
“Then why are you scared?”
“I’m not scared of Ren.”
“Who are you scared of?”
Before she answered, Roman spoke through the door.
“Iris.”
His voice was controlled.
Not loud.
“I know you’re in there.”
I looked at her.
She closed her eyes.
“Open it.”
Thirty seconds earlier she had told me not to.
“You sure?”
“No.”
Excellent.
I unlocked the door.
Roman stood alone in the hallway.
Two men waited on the stairs below.
He looked exactly like someone who had not slept.
Dark hair.
Dark suit beneath the coat.
A small cut along his eyebrow.
His attention went past me instantly.
“Iris.”
She made a sound.
Not quite a sob.
Roman stepped forward.
I blocked him.
Pure reflex.
He stopped.
We looked at each other.
“You’re blocking my door,” I said.
He glanced down.
Technically true.
“My sister.”
“She’s sick.”
His expression changed.
“From what?”
“Cold exposure. Fever. Dehydration.”
His jaw tightened.
“Hospital.”
“No.”
Both Iris and I said it simultaneously.
Roman looked at her.
“Why?”
“Victor.”
One name.
The entire hallway changed.
Roman became very still.
“What did Victor do?”
Iris looked at me.
Then Lucy.
“I can’t say here.”
Roman entered only after I moved.
That mattered.
He didn’t push.
Didn’t order.
He crouched in front of Iris.
“Look at me.”
She did.
For the first time, I saw the Mafia Boss disappear.
There was only a brother.
“I thought you were dead.”
Iris started crying.
Roman pulled her against him.
He closed his eyes.
His hand shook once against the back of her head.
Only once.
Lucy whispered:
“He missed her.”
I touched her hair.
“Yes.”
Roman heard.
He looked toward us.
Then his eyes dropped to Moonie wrapped around Iris.
“She gave me her blanket,” Iris said.
Roman looked at Lucy.
“Thank you.”
Lucy nodded seriously.
“You can buy me another.”
I nearly died.
One of the men on the stairs coughed.
Roman’s mouth almost curved.
“I think I can manage that.”
Then he saw the note.
Iris tried to hide it.
Too late.
“What is that?”
“Nothing.”
Roman held out his hand.
“Iris.”
She didn’t move.
His voice softened.
“Please.”
That word surprised everyone.
Iris handed it over.
Roman read:
NOT OF THE SAME BLOOD
Nothing dramatic happened.
He didn’t gasp.
He didn’t curse.
His thumb simply stopped moving against the paper.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
His eyes lifted.
“Where did you get this?”
Iris said, “Mother’s room.”
Roman’s face changed.
Their mother was dead.
That much even I knew by then.
“Mother’s room has been sealed.”
“Not anymore.”
“Who opened it?”
“Victor.”
Roman stood.
“Tell me everything.”
Iris swallowed.
“Last night I heard Victor arguing with Father Luca.”
“Luca?”
“Our family priest.”
Of course Mafia families had family priests.
She continued.
“Victor said the trust couldn’t transfer while both heirs were alive.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“What trust?”
“I don’t know.”
“He said my name?”
“Yes.”
“And yours?”
“Yes.”
Iris wrapped the blanket tighter.
“I went to Mother’s old room because Victor keeps a key. I found the desk open.”
She pointed to the paper.
“That was inside an envelope.”
“Where’s the envelope?”
“I lost it.”
“What else?”
“Someone came in.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t see.”
Her breathing quickened.
“They grabbed me from behind.”
Roman moved closer.
“Slow.”
I recognized the tone.
The same one I used with Lucy after nightmares.
Iris continued.
“I woke up in a car.”
Her voice shook.
“Two men were talking.”
“What did they say?”
“That I couldn’t be found on Bellandi property.”
Roman’s face emptied.
“They drugged me.”
Iris looked at me.
“I jumped when the car stopped at a light.”
My stomach turned.
“You ran barefoot?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You ended up behind the Halston,” I said.
She nodded.
Roman looked at me.
“You found her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About one.”
“And you brought her here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The question irritated me.
“Because she was dying.”
He studied me.
“I mean why not call someone?”
“She asked me not to.”
“You listened?”
“She was scared.”
Roman’s gaze stayed on me long enough to become uncomfortable.
Finally he said:
“Most people wouldn’t.”
“Most people weren’t there.”
That answer seemed to matter.
Then one of his men entered.
“Roman.”
Not boss.
Roman.
He was older, broad, scar near his chin.
“Victor’s not answering.”
Roman’s eyes never left Iris.
“Find him.”
“Already trying.”
“And Father Luca.”
The man nodded.
Roman turned to me.
“Pack a bag.”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
“No.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Iris can’t stay here.”
“I agree.”
“You and your daughter are coming too.”
“I absolutely do not agree.”
“You saw her.”
“So?”
“The people who left her to die may know where she went.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Roman looked toward Lucy.
Then back at me.
“No.”
His voice became colder.
“It became your problem the moment you carried her home.”
I hated him for being right.
“I’m not moving into some mafia mansion.”
Ruth whispered, “Maybe consider the mansion.”
I glared at her.
Roman continued.
“You don’t have to trust me.”
“Good.”
“But someone tried to kill my sister.”
His eyes dropped toward the note.
“And whatever this means, they believed she found something worth killing for.”
Silence.
Then headlights swept across my ceiling.
Roman turned toward the window.
One of the men downstairs shouted.
Not panic.
Warning.
“Roman!”
A black sedan had stopped across the street.
Window lowered.
Roman grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me down.
Glass exploded above us.
Lucy screamed.
The first gunshot changed everything.
Men outside moved.
Roman covered Iris.
I covered Lucy.
Ruth crawled behind the couch.
Another shot punched into the wall.
Then the sedan accelerated away.
Ten seconds.
That was all.
When silence returned, my apartment looked different.
A hole in the window.
Glass on the floor.
Lucy crying against me.
Roman rose slowly.
His face had become something I never wanted directed at me.
He looked at his men.
“Find that car.”
Then he turned toward me.
May you like
This time I didn’t argue when he said:
“Pack a bag.”
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