“Over the years, I’ve taken men into my house,” he continued. “Into my business. I’ve trusted them with my children. My wife. My secrets.” His hands flexed at his sides. “I thought Vladimir was one of them.”
There was no dramatics in the way he said it. Thatmade it worse.
Behind him, the Russian chuckled, low and wet.
Roman finally turned.
“You were like family,” he said. “And this is what you do with that? You tell Tesauro he can move against me? You take money from my enemies? You put a gun to my wife and daughter? You walk them into my own monument and take them as hostages in the belly of my future?” He shook his head. “Friends don’t do this to friends.”
Blood dribbled from Vlad’s split lip. He spat it at Roman’s feet.
It splashed on the leather of his shoes.
Roman didn’t flinch.
He just rolled up one sleeve another inch.
Then he closed the distance between them and punched Vladimir in the face.
It wasn’t a pretty punch. It wasn’t meant to be. It was the kind of strike a man throws when he wants to feel bone give under his knuckles.
Vlad’s nose broke with an audible crack. Blood poured out instantly. It went down over his mouth and into his beard. It looked black in the moonlight.
He bent forward, gasping, then slowly straightened. His eyes shone.
“Friends do exactly this,” he rasped. “When the friendship stops giving them anything new. When the partnership grows stale. When the king slows down and the vultures see him circling the same scraps he’sbeen circling for twenty years.”
He laughed, choked on it, coughed more blood into the sand.
“The whole East Coast will be on fire soon, Roman,” he said. “More will betray you. People you’d never suspect. They’ll put knives in your back, and you’ll never see them coming. You’ll die thinking you were still the one pulling the strings. And the syndicate? My connections. They will not be pleased. They’ll want answers. They’ll come for you with torches.”
Roman’s gaze never wavered.
“I’m not afraid of fire,” he said. “I may be older. But I’m not weak. You and Tesauro made a mistake tonight.” He lifted his chin slightly. “You touched my blood. You hurt my wife. You laid hands on my daughter. I would have forgiven many things. These are not one of them.”
Vlad grinned, teeth slick with his own blood.
“You still think this is just me and Tesauro? Our little deal. Our little betrayal. You think he’s played his cards in full? You think killing me here and going after him next will solve your war. You’re blind, old friend.”
Roman’s tone went colder than the air.
“Tesauro played his hand when he sent you into my house,” he said. “He played it when he hit my son’s club. When he touched the Devils. When he thought he could move against the Shore Vipers and not pay for it. Tonight, he loses you. Tomorrow, he wakes up and realizes the ball is in my court. He’ll soon find out that I’m not done. I will not bend. I will not stepaside. I’m going all in. I’m taking the pot. And when I’m done, the only thing left of his empire will be a story people tell their children as a warning.”
“If you think he’s shown you everything he has,” Vladimir said softly, “you’ve already lost this war.”
Roman stared at him another few seconds.
Then he stepped back.
“Pull him forward,” he said to his men.
They dragged Vladimir closer to the water. The sand there was colder, damp from the tide. They left him on his knees facing the ocean, his bound hands digging into the grit behind him as he tried to keep his balance.
He lifted his head, exposing his throat.
For a second, he just breathed.
Then he looked up at the moon.
