Chapter 9 - THE THEATER
Roman hated the plan.
So did Marcus.
I went anyway.
The Vale Theater had been closed for twelve years.
Roman owned it through a shell company.
Malcolm knew every entrance.
Every camera.
Every blind spot.
I entered through the front doors at nine.
Roman’s men surrounded the block.
They could hear me through a transmitter sewn into my sweater.
The theater smelled like dust and rotting velvet.
“Trevor?”
My voice echoed.
A spotlight switched on.
Trevor stood onstage.
No suit this time.
Black jeans.
Gray shirt.
He looked younger.
More like the man I once loved.
“You came.”
“Where’s my father?”
“Safe.”
“Bring him out.”
Trevor rubbed his face.
“You don’t understand what Malcolm is doing.”
“Then explain.”
“He wants Roman destroyed.”
“Why?”
“Because Roman was supposed to remain controllable.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Malcolm helped raise him. Helped build his empire.”
Trevor laughed bitterly.
“Then Roman started cleaning up Victor’s old business. Cutting people out. Turning evidence over to prosecutors.”
Roman had told me some of that.
Trevor continued.
“Malcolm lost millions.”
“So he used you.”
“Yes.”
“Against me.”
Trevor looked ashamed.
“At first.”
I stepped closer.
“You don’t get to say you loved me after what you did.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I was nineteen!”
“And I was working sixty hours a week so you could finish school!”
Trevor looked away.
I felt years of buried rage break loose.
“You let me think I wasn’t enough.”
“Sadi—”
“You took my money.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was scared.”
“You broke me because you were scared?”
His face crumpled.
Then a slow clap echoed from the balcony.
Malcolm Reed appeared.
Silver-haired.
Elegant.
Smiling.
“Very touching.”
Trevor went rigid.
“You said you weren’t coming.”
Malcolm descended the stairs.
“You’ve always been sentimental.”
“Where’s Elias?”
“With people who follow instructions.”
I looked at Malcolm.
“You knew my father.”
“He was clever.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did Victor?”
Malcolm smiled.
“Victor tried.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“Your father had the annoying habit of surviving.”
He walked closer.
“I helped him disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew things.”
Trevor stepped between us.
“You promised she wouldn’t be hurt.”
Malcolm laughed.
“You still believe promises?”
Trevor’s face changed.
Malcolm reached inside his coat.
Trevor lunged.
A gunshot exploded.
I screamed.
Trevor stumbled.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Malcolm grabbed me around the neck and pressed the gun to my ribs.
My transmitter crackled.
Roman’s voice exploded through it.
“SADI!”
Malcolm ripped it free.
He smiled toward the darkness.
“Come out, Roman.”
Nothing.
Malcolm pressed the gun harder.
“Or she dies.”
A shadow moved near the aisle.
Roman stepped into the light.
Alone.
May you like
And Malcolm smiled.
“Just like your father.”
