The Don’s Final Chapter
At some point, Gray appeared in the corridor holding the tray.
He said indifferently, “Why obsess over this, Vincent? Ms. Mancini remembers a lot of things, but she never chooses to speak of you.”
Paying Gray no mind, Vincent kept his eyes on me.
His gaze fell on the empty cup I put aside.
He approached, lifted the cup, and rotated it slowly in his hands.
“This was your favorite tea. Back in our rented apartment, you’d always make this tea to ease my stomachache,” he murmured.