64. JOEY
JOEY
I sat at my desk, my whiskey glass sat half-empty, the amber liquid swirling as I took slow sips. I looked over at the office door when I heard the tap that broke the silence. The door creaked open, and Ben slipped in. “What is it?” I asked.
I watched him cross the room like he was stepping over landmines, a manila folder tucked under his arm. “I got something for you,” he said.
“Do you know who did it?” He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, staring at me like he was trying to figure out how to break a man in half without touching him. Then, he placed a folder on my desk. There was a thud when it hit my desk, letting me know something was inside. My eyes met Ben’s again, searching for answers.
“It’s all in there,” he told me. “You need to see it for yourself.” Something cold curled in my stomach. Ben paused at the door, his hand gripping the doorknob as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Once you open that, there’s no going back.”
The door clicked shut behind him. I sat there, staring at the folder. The room was too quiet. The walls felt too close. For weeks, I’d been trying to drag the truth into the light. And now, it was right in front of me. Staring me dead in the eyes. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. I forced myself to face the truth. I knew I’d never rest until I reached the end.
So I flipped the folder open, stuck my hand inside, and pulled out a revolver. I’d never seen it before. I didn’t know who it belonged to. But there was another envelope inside. It was registered. And the second I read the name William Bianchi, my world tilted. Nothing in the fucking world could have prepared me for that. Because Adriana couldn’t have done it. She was with me. William couldn’t have done it because I killed him. That meant it could only be one other person.
Antonio Romano.
My son.