Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT IRIS REMEMBERED WHO LEFT HER TO FREEZE
Vincent disappeared before Roman could confront him.
That told us enough.
Iris refused to believe it.
“He taught me to drive.”
Roman said nothing.
“He came to my graduation.”
Nothing.
“He carried me when I broke my ankle.”
Roman finally said:
“I know.”
That broke her.
Betrayal rarely hurts because monsters turn out to be monsters.
It hurts because someone who once held your hand chooses to hurt you later.
That night, Iris remembered.
Not everything.
Enough.
She had found the envelope in Elena’s desk.
Vincent entered.
He told her Roman needed her downstairs.
Then covered her mouth.
A needle.
Car.
Victor’s voice on speaker.
“Make it look accidental.”
Vincent asked:
“What about the note?”
Victor answered:
“Find it.”
Iris had hidden the paper inside her sleeve.
Then escaped at a traffic light.
She ran through sleet.
Lost shoes.
Lost coat.
Collapsed.
“If Grace hadn’t found me…”
She couldn’t finish.
Roman stood at the window.
I could see what he wanted.
Violence.
Simple.
Immediate.
I moved beside him.
“What are you thinking?”
“You know.”
“Don’t.”
He looked at me.
“He left her to freeze.”
“I know.”
“He killed your father.”
“Victor did.”
“With Vincent’s help.”
“Maybe.”
Roman’s eyes were almost black.
“You want me to call police.”
“I want you not to become the easiest version of yourself.”
That irritated him.
“What does that mean?”
“Killing him would be easy.”
“Not if he’s protected.”
“You know what I mean.”
Silence.
“You think prison is enough?”
“I think the truth needs him alive.”
That reached him.
Vincent knew everything.
Victor.
The altered papers.
Daniel’s death.
Maybe Elena’s.
Roman exhaled.
“Fine.”
“You say that like I won.”
“You did.”
“I’m terrified.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Means you understand who you’re arguing with.”
I rolled my eyes.
Two days later, Vincent contacted me.
Not Roman.
Me.
Unknown number.
I know what happened to Elena Bellandi.
Then:
Come alone.
Obviously I showed Roman.
He said no.
Obviously.
We compromised.
I went.
Roman’s people followed from distance.
Vincent chose a closed train station.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
Scared.
“Victor will kill me.”
“Get in line.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You sound like Roman.”
“I’m offended.”
Vincent handed me a flash drive.
“What’s this?”
“Recordings.”
“Of?”
“Victor.”
“Why give them to me?”
“Roman will kill me.”
“He agreed not to.”
Vincent stared.
“You believe him?”
“Yes.”
That surprised me too.
Vincent swallowed.
“Elena didn’t die of cancer.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She had cancer.”
“But?”
“She was responding to treatment.”
“Victor?”
“He changed medication.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
“She was going to tell Dominic everything.”
“What everything?”
“Daniel’s murder. Samuel Vale. Victor’s obsession.”
I gripped the drive.
“Did Dominic know Victor killed my father?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Relief and rage arrived together.
“Why did you help him?”
Vincent cried.
Actual tears.
“My brother owed him money.”
There it was.
Ordinary cowardice.
The engine inside so many terrible things.
“Victor threatened him.”
“So you drugged Iris?”
“Yes.”
“You dumped her in freezing rain.”
His face crumpled.
“Yes.”
I wanted to hate him cleanly.
Then he said:
“I went back.”
“What?”
“Twenty minutes later.”
My chest tightened.
“She was gone.”
“Because I found her.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Camera.”
He looked at me.
“I erased footage showing you carrying her.”
I stared.
“You protected me?”
“Once.”
One good act does not erase betrayal.
But it still happened.
Vincent continued.
“Victor found the remaining cameras later.”
“That’s how he learned my name.”
“Yes.”
Footsteps echoed.
Vincent panicked.
Roman emerged.
Not alone.
Police.
Federal agents.
Vincent stared at me.
“You lied.”
“No.”
Roman walked forward.
“I promised Grace I wouldn’t kill you.”
Vincent’s face went white.
Roman continued:
“She didn’t say anything about arrest.”
Vincent surrendered.
On the flash drive, Victor admitted enough to reopen three deaths.
Daniel Mercer.
Elena Bellandi.
A former accountant.
But the biggest revelation came from a conversation recorded six weeks earlier.
Victor said:
“Roman doesn’t know the family he inherited was never his.”
I replayed it.
Roman listened once.
Then again.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody knew.
Until Iris remembered one last detail.
The original envelope had more writing.
Not just:
NOT OF THE SAME BLOOD
There had been a second line.
Torn away before she escaped.
May you like
Two words.
THE HEIR…
