Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER'S SHADOW
-4
The chair across from Victor Romano’s desk was upholstered in deep burgundy velvet, old and impossibly soft. Tessa sat on the very edge of it, her back rigidly straight, her hands folded tightly in her lap as if touching the armrests might constitute a capital offense.
Victor watched her pick up a small piece of toasted brioche with trembling fingers. She nibbled at it like a frightened rabbit, chewing slowly while keeping her eyes fixed downward on the grain of the wood.
“Tell me about Liam,” Victor said suddenly.
The plate rattled against the silver tray. Tessa froze, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. Mentioning her brother was crossing into dangerous territory. Liam was the anchor dragging her down into this abyss, the reason she was trapped in the jaws of the syndicate.
“He... he made a mistake, Mr. Romano,” Tessa whispered, her voice tight with defensive panic. “He got caught up with the wrong people at the downtown tables. He didn't mean to—he thought he could win it back to pay our rent—aid our mother’s medical bills—it got out of hand—”
“It always gets out of hand,” Victor finished for her, his tone devoid of sympathy, yet curiously lacking anger as well. He set his coffee cup down with a soft clink. “Liam Moore owes forty-two thousand dollars to the downtown bookmaking syndicate operating under the banner of the Diamond Club. A club that happens to pay a licensing percentage directly to my organization.”
“I’m working it off,” Tessa said quickly, her voice rising with desperate urgency. “I’m paying the interest every week, plus the principal reduction from my wages—though Mrs. Gable says the board and lodging fees take eighty percent of—"
“Eighty percent?” Victor’s eyebrows arched sharply, a dangerous glint flashing in his dark eyes. “Who authorized a lodging deduction for domestic staff?”
“Mr... Mr. Paulie,” Tessa stammered, shrinking back slightly.
Victor’s jaw tightened. A muscle ticked along his scarred cheek. Paulie was efficient, loyal to a fault, and notoriously ruthless when it came to squeezing every ounce of productivity out of the estate assets. But running a private debt-slavery racket within the walls of Victor’s own home was a distinct violation of the administrative boundaries Victor maintained to keep his syndicate looking like a legitimate corporate enterprise on paper.
“Paulie takes too many liberties when my attention is divided,” Victor muttered to himself, picking up a pen and tapping it lightly against the desk. He looked back at Tessa. “How much remains on the principal balance of Liam’s debt?”
Tessa swallowed hard, her throat burning. “Twenty-eight thousand, four hundred dollars. With the interest compounding weekly... it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Victor didn't speak for a long, agonizing moment. He opened the top drawer of his desk, pulled out a heavy black leather checkbook, and uncapped a fountain pen. His movements were smooth, deliberate, and entirely unhurried, even with his injured shoulder. He scribbled something across the paper with a few swift strokes, tore the check out, and slid it across the mahogany surface toward her.
Tessa stared at the paper. She didn't dare touch it.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“That is a cashier’s draft drawn on the Romano Foundation accounts,” Victor said calmly. “Twenty-eight thousand, four hundred dollars. Paid in full. Liam’s ledger is clear.”
Tessa’s breath caught. The room seemed to tilt sideways. She stared at the check, then up at Victor’s stone-carved face, searching for the cruel punchline, the hidden catch that came with dealing with the devil.
“You... you cleared it?” she breathed, tears finally spilling over her lashes and tracking down her dust-smudged cheeks. “Why? What do you want from me? More hours? Another wing to scrub? My life?”
“Your life is worth considerably more than forty-two thousand dollars, Tessa,” Victor said quietly, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “And I don't trade in human misery outside of business hours. Liam’s debt is canceled. He is free of the Diamond Club. He can walk away tomorrow morning.”
“And me?” Tessa’s voice broke, the terror returning full force. “What about me? Am I free too?”
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Victor went completely still. The dark intensity in his eyes deepened, shifting into something possessive, consuming, and terrifyingly permanent.
“You signed a three-year employment contract with the Romano estate, Tessa,” Victor said, a faint, dangerous smile touching the corners of his mouth. “And I am a man who respects a legally binding agreement. You aren't leaving. Not yet.”
