Chapter 6 - The Last Job of Wraith
Three weeks later, Rosa returned to the restaurant.
The new windows were thicker.
The doors were reinforced.
The marble had been repaired.
A new piano stood where the old one had been destroyed.
Rosa walked inside wearing jeans and a leather jacket.
Marco saw her first.
“Absolutely not.”
“What?”
“No uniform.”
“I don't work here.”
“Boss says otherwise.”
Rosa stopped.
“What did Mateo do?”
Marco pointed toward table 7.
Mateo sat in his usual chair.
One plate.
Two wineglasses.
Rosa approached.
“Why are there two glasses?”
Mateo looked up.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“Please.”
She blinked.
“Did that hurt?”
“Extremely.”
Rosa sat.
Mateo pushed an envelope across the table.
She opened it.
A contract.
Director of Security.
Rosa looked at the salary.
Then at Mateo.
“This is ridiculous.”
“I can reduce it.”
“No.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“I told you. I'm done with that life.”
“This isn't that life.”
“You're a mafia boss.”
Mateo considered.
“Fair point.”
She pushed the contract back.
“No.”
He didn't argue.
That surprised her.
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
“You're not going to threaten me?”
“No.”
“Manipulate me?”
“No.”
“Offer more money?”
“I was considering that.”
“Mateo.”
He smiled.
“Fine.”
Dinner arrived.
Rosa stared at the veal.
“You ordered the same meal.”
“I like routine.”
“You nearly died eating this.”
“And you nearly died serving it.”
“That's different.”
“How?”
“I don't like veal.”
Mateo laughed.
Halfway through dinner, Marco approached.
His expression erased the humor.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found Vincent.”
Mateo's face went cold.
“Where?”
“Airport.”
Rosa put down her fork.
Vincent had disappeared the night of Lobo's arrest.
Mateo stood.
“Bring the car.”
Rosa remained seated.
Mateo looked at her.
“You're not coming.”
“I didn't say I was.”
“Good.”
She stood.
Mateo frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“With you.”
“You just said—”
“I changed my mind.”
At the airport hangar, Vincent sat alone.
He looked exhausted.
Mateo entered first.
Rosa remained near the door.
Vincent looked up.
“Mateo.”
“You sold me.”
Vincent lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My son.”
Mateo stopped.
“What?”
“Lobo had Christopher.”
Rosa's eyes narrowed.
Vincent continued.
“He took him six months ago. Told me if I said anything, they'd kill him.”
Mateo's anger shifted.
“Why didn't you come to me?”
“Because I knew what you'd do.”
“I would have helped you.”
“You would've started a war.”
Mateo looked away.
Because Vincent was right.
Rosa asked, “Where's Christopher now?”
“I don't know.”
“Lobo's organization collapsed.”
“I know.”
“Then someone has him who hasn't received new orders.”
Vincent looked at her.
“You can find him?”
Rosa didn't answer.
Mateo did.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
Mateo looked directly at Rosa.
“You're not Wraith anymore.”
Vincent stood.
“Mateo, please.”
“I'll find your son.”
“How?”
“I have people.”
Rosa watched Mateo.
He wasn't asking her.
Wasn't expecting her.
Wasn't using what she could do.
For reasons she didn't fully understand, that mattered.
Rosa took out her phone.
“One job.”
Mateo shook his head.
“No.”
“My choice.”
“Rosa.”
“One last job.”
She looked at Vincent.
“Tell me everything.”
Thirty-six hours later, Christopher Vincent was found alive in a rented house outside Newark.
No dramatic firefight.
No legendary assassin.
Rosa used phone records, rental contracts, security footage, and one frightened accountant who valued freedom more than loyalty.
When she brought the seventeen-year-old boy home, Vincent collapsed around his son.
Mateo stood beside Rosa.
“You didn't fire a shot.”
“No.”
“You didn't even carry a gun.”
“No.”
“So Wraith didn't find him.”
Rosa looked at the reunited father and son.
“No.”
“Who did?”
She smiled.
“Rosa Conte.”
Mateo nodded.
“I like her better.”
“So do I.”
Mateo reached into his jacket.
Rosa immediately narrowed her eyes.
“If that's another contract—”
He handed her a restaurant menu.
She stared.
“What?”
“Dinner.”
“You could have just asked.”
“I am asking.”
Rosa studied him.
“This isn't business?”
“No.”
“Security?”
“No.”
“Debt repayment?”
“No.”
“A criminal conspiracy?”
Mateo sighed.
“Rosa.”
She smiled.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“I'll have dinner with you.”
Mateo looked almost suspicious.
“That was easier than expected.”
“Don't get comfortable.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.”
She started walking away.
Mateo called after her.
“Tomorrow at eight?”
Rosa turned.
“Seven-thirty.”
“Why?”
“Because you eat too late.”
Mateo watched her leave.
Marco stepped beside him.
“You know she's going to run your life.”
Mateo smiled.
May you like
“I've had worse problems.”
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