Vegarro “Vega” Moretti
Two days later, I finally got my chance to end this.
The night before, Jamir had sent word that Roman’s wife had a spa appointment scheduled for that morning.
By the time the spa opened, I’d paid off the manager.
After Mrs. Granger was placed into her treatment room, the manager snuck us through the employee entrance, gave us uniforms, told the other employees that we were new hires, then disappeared into her office without asking questions.
Sonnet adjusted the front of her white scrub top while we stood outside the treatment room.
“You good?” I asked.
“No. I’m nervous.” She looked at the name stitched over my pocket. “You don’t look anything like a massage therapist. She’s going to scream like a motherfucker.”
Laughing quietly, I reached for the door.
Mrs. Granger was already lying face down on the massage table when we walked in. A white sheet covered her from the waist down, and her arms rested beside her head.
I closed the door behind us and turned on the lights.
Her head popped up. She was older and light-skinned, with high cheekbones, full lips, and curly hair twisted into a loose bun. Even without makeup, she was beautiful. I was proud of Roman for bagging her.
She looked from me to Sonnet. “Where’s Olivia? Was there a switch?” she asked. “Because I requested her. She knows where I carry my tension and what pressure I need.”
“We’re not here to give you a massage,” I announced.
Her entire body went rigid. Then she pushed herself upright and pulled the sheet around her. “What the hell is going on?!”
“We’re not here to hurt you.”
“Then why are you in this room?!”
“Keep your voice down,” I gritted.
She reached toward the small table beside her, probably for her phone. But I pulled my gun from my waistband and she froze.
“I said we’re not here to hurt you,” I repeated. “But I need you to listen without making a scene so I will hurt you if I need to.”
Her eyes moved from the gun to my face. Fear settled into them, but she didn’t scream. “What do you want?”
“I’m Vega Moretti—”
She interrupted me, hissing, “Shiiiiit.”
But I assured her, “I don’t want anything from you. I’m actually here to give you something…The truth about Donovan’s murder.”
Pain replaced her fear at the mention of her son’s death.
She watched intently as I pulled out my phone and opened the folder Jamir had created.
It contained audio files from a device he’d planted in Roman’s office, records of Roman’s vehicle and cell phone location data from the night of the murder, and messages pulled from Donovan and Roman’s burner.
The cryptic exchange between him and Cedric amounted to a confession.
I gave her the phone and allowed her to scroll.
“What am I looking at?” she asked.
“Proof that Roman and Donovan were seen together that night. Those messages came from Donovan’s burner. He told somebody he was meeting his father that night because they needed to settle something.”
She inhaled sharply as she took the phone and opened another file.
“This audio came from a recorder inside Donovan’s office.”
Roman and Cedric’s voice conversation filled the room. Roman and Cedric were discussing how urgent it was to silence Sonnet before everyone found out that Roman killed him. Though the conversation was very coded, she understood the true meaning.
Mrs. Granger looked up from the phone to me. “No,” she whispered in disbelief.
I swiped to the next image. “That’s Roman and Donovan entering the loading area of the medical device and surgical supply company Donovan was killed at that night. My source was able to get stills from a nearby building. This proves they were together that night.”
“Then what proves the rest?”
Sonnet finally spoke. “Me. I saw everything.”
Mrs. Granger stared at her, blinking owlishly. She hesitated to reply, as if she was wondering if she wanted to know what Sonnet saw.
Sonnet took careful steps forward. I watched her until I realized what she was doing. She was closing the space so Mrs. Granger would feel safer and let her guard down.
Sonnet sat on the edge of the massage table, leaving very little between them.
Mrs. Granger stared at her. “You saw my son die?”
Sonnet nodded with sympathy bathing her eyes. “Yes. My name is Sonnet Ellison. I heard and saw everything.”
“I was leaving work through the loading area when I heard Donovan shouting. I had walked up in the middle of their conversation and heard Donovan accusing his father of refusing to let go.”
Mrs. Granger’s fingers curled into the sheet, as she prepared herself for the rest of the details.
“They were standing near one of the trailers,” Sonnet told her.
“Donovan said Roman built the organization for the family, and that included him. Roman told him he was forgetting who still ran it. Donovan said he wasn’t forgetting anything.
He said he was trying to prove he could help carry it.
Roman accused him of making moves behind his back, but Donovan said he made decisions that needed to be made. ”
Mrs. Granger looked down at her hands as tears pulled in her eyes.
“Then Roman said Donovan had made people look to him instead of his father. Donovan told him that was the real problem. He said Roman was mad because people listened to him. He was mad because Donovan handled things, and nobody had to run to Roman first.”
“That sounds like my son,” Mrs. Granger whispered.
“Donovan told him he wasn’t a child anymore. He said every time he tried to stand in his place as heir, Roman pushed him back down.”
A tear slipped down Mrs. Granger’s cheek.
“Roman said Donovan was positioning himself to take over before his time. Donovan said his time was coming whether Roman liked it or not. Then he told Donovan he didn’t want an heir. He wanted everybody under his control until he died.”
Mrs. Granger’s expression twisted with pain.
“Roman warned him to watch his mouth. Donovan asked him to admit that he’d never planned to let him lead.”
“What did his father say?”
Sonnet swallowed. “He said no, he hadn’t.”
Mrs. Granger opened her eyes, and the hurt in them made my stomach turn.
“Donovan told him he had been trying to become the man Roman raised him to be. He said he had been making moves, earning respect, and showing the outfit that he wasn’t just Roman’s son standing beside him for decoration.”
Mrs. Granger pressed her hand to her mouth.
“He told Roman, ‘I’m your heir.’ Then he said, ‘I just wanted you to see me.’”
Mrs. Granger’s shoulders shook as she began to weep.
“Roman told him, ‘I do see you. That’s the problem. You’d rather deny your own son than admit he’s ready’. And Roman said, ‘I’d rather bury a threat than hand one my throne.’ That was when Roman reached beneath his coat. Donovan didn’t even see it coming when Roman shot him.”
Mrs. Granger cried, “Did Roman hesitate?”
“No,” Sonnet said quietly. “He pulled the gun and fired almost immediately.”
Mrs. Granger folded forward, and I thought she might fall off of the table.
“Donovan went down, but he was still alive. He pressed his hand over the wound and asked Roman if he thought he was going to get away with it.”
“What did Roman say?”
“Nothing.”
Mrs. Granger cried silently, tears slipping down her face while Sonnet forced herself to keep going.
“Donovan told him everything came to light eventually. Then his hand fell away, and he stopped moving.”
Mrs. Granger covered her mouth as grief caused her to sob. “Did he suffer?”
“He was conscious for a short time, but it happened quickly.”
“And Roman just stood there?”
“He stood over him with the gun still in his hand.”
Mrs. Granger lowered her head and cried.
“I’m sorry,” Sonnet whispered. “I wish I had a different truth to give you.”
Mrs. Granger looked destroyed. She bent forward, one hand covering her face while the other held the sheet against her body.
Sonnet reached for her hand.
“Who are you? Why were you there that night?” Mrs. Granger asked through her tears.
“I work for the company. I was working late that night.”
Mrs. Granger looked at her for a long time, as if she were searching for confirmation that Sonnet was telling the truth. Then she tore her eyes away, cringing, as if she knew and nodded.
“He always said Donovan wanted too much too soon,” she whispered. “And Donovan always said his father would rather destroy him than let him become his own man.”
She wiped her face with the corner of the sheet. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Your husband hired me to kidnap Sonnet and bring her to him because he found out that she was a witness. But something didn’t feel right. Then before one of my meetings with Roman, I overheard Roman telling Cedric that Sonnet has to die because she witnessed him murder his son.”
Blowing a heavy breath, Celeste ran her fingers through her hair.
“But I figured you wouldn’t just take my word for it, so I had someone do some digging so that I could present you with facts that you couldn’t deny.
You deserve to know who you were sleeping beside.
Roman started a fake war with the Bellamy crew behind this lie.
People have died and gotten hurt behind this lie...
and Roman has been trying to kill her because she is the only person who can reveal the truth.
Now that the truth is out, I’m hoping this will save her life. ”
She looked at Sonnet with eyes full of regret. “I’m so sorry...”
Sonnet squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault.”
Sonnet stood and returned to my side. I put my gun away, then took a card from my pocket and set it on the table beside Mrs. Granger.
“My number’s on there. Call me if you need anything else.”
She looked at the card through her tears and nodded.
“We’re gonna leave you alone now,” I told her.
Mrs. Granger remained seated on the table, clutching the sheet around herself while she stared down at the card.
I opened the door and guided Sonnet into the hallway, leaving the sounds of Mrs. Granger sobbing behind us.