Chapter 2 - THE MAN ROMAN BURIED
Roman DeLuca did not frighten Megan when he was angry.
She had already seen angry men.
Her father had been angry when bills piled up.
Customers became angry when steaks arrived medium instead of medium-rare.
David Kesler had spent eight months turning anger into a management technique.
Roman was different.
When he was truly disturbed, he became quieter.
And as the video screen faded to black, Roman became so quiet Megan could hear the rain striking the restaurant windows two rooms away.
“Who was that?” she asked.
Roman didn't answer.
His security chief, Nico Bell, stood beside the dining table with one hand pressed against the earpiece beneath his dark hair.
“Boss?”
Roman stared at the black screen.
“Lock the building.”
Nico hesitated.
“Customers are still upstairs.”
“Get them out without alarming anyone.”
“What do we tell them?”
“Gas leak.”
Nico nodded and turned.
Megan caught his sleeve.
“My son.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“My son is home with Mrs. Alvarez. If David knows who I am—”
Roman was already reaching for his phone.
“Address?”
Megan stared at him.
“Roman—”
“Address.”
She gave it.
Roman called someone and issued instructions without explaining them.
“Two men outside. No one goes inside unless Megan approves them. No uniforms. No sirens. Keep the street quiet.”
He ended the call.
Megan's stomach tightened.
“I don't want armed strangers standing outside my son's apartment.”
“They won't be strangers for long.”
“I don't want any of this.”
Roman looked at her.
For the first time since the video appeared, something human showed beneath his control.
“Neither did I.”
A metallic sound echoed somewhere beneath them.
Everyone stopped.
It came again.
Clang.
Then the unmistakable scrape of something heavy moving over concrete.
Nico reached inside his jacket.
Megan noticed.
“So much for the gas leak.”
“Stay here,” Roman said.
“No.”
His eyes shifted toward her.
“We've already had this conversation.”
“And apparently you didn't learn from it.”
“This isn't an alley.”
“That doesn't make you less stabbed.”
Nico glanced between them as though he had no idea whether to interrupt.
Roman finally said, “You are not coming downstairs.”
Megan crossed her arms.
“My dead husband is connected to whatever is downstairs.”
“That is precisely why you're not coming.”
“Roman.”
His stare hardened.
Megan stepped closer.
“You found my husband's name in those files. A man with his face just appeared on a video. Someone built a fake copy of my phone. If you think I'm going to sit beside your coffee while you disappear through some secret basement door, you've seriously misunderstood me.”
Nico coughed to hide what might have been a laugh.
Roman looked at him.
Nico immediately stopped.
Then Roman looked back at Megan.
“Stay behind me.”
“I can do that.”
“And if I tell you to run?”
“I'll consider it.”
“That isn't what I said.”
“It is the best offer you're getting.”
Roman stared at her another second.
“Fine.”
They moved through the service corridor.
The restaurant was already clearing. Servers guided confused customers toward the front while kitchen workers whispered beside stainless-steel counters.
David's office stood open.
Beyond it was the loading corridor where he had escaped.
At the far end, Nico stopped beside a refrigerated storage room.
The door was open.
“Was this locked before?” Roman asked.
“Always.”
Inside, rows of wine cases and produce boxes stood against concrete walls.
Megan saw nothing unusual.
Then Nico moved a rolling rack aside.
Behind it was another door.
Old steel.
No handle.
Only a small electronic keypad.
Roman's expression changed.
“You knew about this?” Megan whispered.
“No.”
“But you own the building.”
“I bought it three years ago.”
“Who owned it before?”
Roman looked at the door.
“My father.”
That answer chilled her.
Nico examined the keypad.
“It was opened sixty seconds before we entered the corridor.”
“David?”
“Could be.”
Roman glanced at Megan.
“Back upstairs.”
“No.”
“Megan.”
A faint sound came from beyond the steel.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Then two.
Megan froze.
Every bit of color left her face.
Roman noticed immediately.
“What?”
She stepped toward the door.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Two.
Again.
“Oh my God.”
“What is it?”
Megan could barely speak.
“Tom used to do that.”
Roman's attention sharpened.
“The knocking?”
“When Leo was a baby, Tom came home late from work. He didn't want the doorbell waking him. Three knocks, pause, two knocks.”
She swallowed.
“That was how I knew it was him.”
Roman placed himself between Megan and the steel door.
“Nico.”
Nico tried the keypad.
“Six digits.”
Roman studied the wall.
Megan stared at the numbers.
Then something surfaced from memory.
Thomas standing in their old kitchen.
Writing numbers on the refrigerator calendar.
A joke about their anniversary.
“Try 111822.”
Nico looked at her.
“November eighteenth?”
“The day Tom supposedly died.”
Roman's eyes narrowed.
Nico entered the code.
Red light.
Wrong.
Megan closed her eyes.
Think.
Tom loved stupid passwords.
Leo's birthday.
Their anniversary.
The address of their first apartment.
Then she remembered the voicemail.
If you're hearing this, David failed.
Roman DeLuca cannot know—
“Megan?”
She opened her eyes.
“Try Leo's birthday.”
Nico entered 031519.
Green.
The steel lock released.
Roman said nothing.
That bothered Megan more than anything.
He drew the door open.
A narrow staircase descended beneath the restaurant.
The air smelled like dust, oil, and old stone.
Roman went first.
Megan followed.
Nico and another guard came behind.
The staircase ended in a concrete corridor illuminated by emergency lights.
Old electrical cables ran along the ceiling.
There were three doors.
The first contained shelves of archived restaurant receipts.
The second held empty crates.
The third was open.
Inside sat a metal chair.
Rope lay on the floor.
The wall behind it carried a faded gold crown.
Exactly like the video.
Megan covered her mouth.
“He was here.”
Roman crouched beside the rope.
“Recently.”
Nico touched the metal chair.
“Still warm.”
Megan turned in a circle.
“No. The video looked different.”
Roman looked up.
“What?”
“The wall.”
“The crown is the same.”
“Not that.”
She stepped backward, picturing the recording.
“There was a pipe behind Tom's left shoulder.”
Nico pointed.
“There.”
“No. In the video it was horizontal.”
She looked around again.
“Here it's vertical.”
Roman slowly stood.
“You're sure?”
“I watched my supposedly dead husband tied to a chair. Yes, Roman. I'm sure.”
Roman walked toward the painted crown.
He ran his fingers along its edge.
Then knocked.
Hollow.
Nico joined him.
Together they pushed the wall panel.
It shifted inward.
Behind it was another room.
This one was colder.
Newer.
And filled with surveillance equipment.
Megan stepped inside.
Six monitors glowed on a desk.
One displayed the alley where she had found Roman.
Another showed the restaurant loading dock.
A third showed Megan's apartment building.
She stopped.
“No.”
Roman saw it.
His expression turned lethal.
“Turn that off.”
Nico moved toward the computer.
“Wait.”
Megan pointed to another screen.
Her kitchen.
Leo's drawings covered the refrigerator.
Mrs. Alvarez stood at the sink.
Her seven-year-old son sat at the table doing homework.
Someone had been watching inside her home.
For how long?
Megan couldn't breathe.
Roman took out his phone.
“Move the boy. Now.”
Megan grabbed his wrist.
“No. If whoever did this is watching, they'll know we found the room.”
Roman looked at her.
“They already know.”
“How?”
He pointed.
A small red light blinked over the doorway.
Camera.
They were being watched too.
Then every monitor went black.
One returned.
White letters appeared against the darkness.
HELLO, ROMAN.
Megan stepped closer.
Another line appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED AT 4:14.
Roman's face showed nothing.
Then:
SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO FIND YOU.
Megan felt cold.
The next message appeared.
BUT THOMAS ALWAYS DID HAVE A WEAKNESS FOR HIS FAMILY.
“Thomas is involved?” Megan whispered.
Roman said nothing.
The screen flickered.
A live video appeared.
Thomas Parker sat inside the same chair from the earlier recording.
This time his face was fully visible.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar cut through his eyebrow.
But unquestionably Thomas.
Megan moved toward the screen.
“Tom.”
His head lifted as though he could hear her.
“Megan?”
She gasped.
The feed was live.
“Megan, listen to me.”
She stepped closer.
“Where are you?”
His expression filled with something that looked horribly like grief.
“You have to get away from DeLuca.”
Roman went still beside her.
“Why?”
Thomas looked directly into the camera.
“Because the man who stabbed Roman wasn't trying to kill him.”
Megan's heart hammered.
“Then what was he doing?”
Thomas swallowed.
“Stopping him from finding you.”
Megan stared at the screen.
Nothing made sense.
Roman stepped forward.
“Thomas Parker.”
Thomas's expression changed the instant he heard Roman's voice.
Hatred.
Pure and immediate.
“You.”
Roman didn't react.
“You appeared in Vale records six years ago.”
Thomas leaned toward the camera.
“And your father murdered everyone who tried to expose him.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“My father has been dead six years.”
Thomas gave a tired, bitter laugh.
“That is what he wanted you to believe.”
The room went completely silent.
Roman took one step closer to the monitor.
“Say that again.”
Thomas looked into the camera.
“Your father isn't dead.”
Roman's face finally broke.
Not much.
But Megan saw it.
The shock.
The disbelief.
Then Thomas whispered:
“And he's the man you saw step into that video.”
The feed vanished.
A timer appeared.
00:30.
Nico swore.
“What is that?”
00:29.
Roman grabbed Megan.
“Move.”
They ran for the corridor.
00:26.
Megan heard a mechanical click somewhere behind the wall.
00:23.
Nico shouted, “Boss!”
Roman pushed Megan toward the stairs.
“Go!”
00:18.
Smoke began spilling beneath the surveillance-room door.
They reached the staircase.
00:12.
Roman stumbled.
His wounded side struck the railing.
Megan caught him.
“Roman!”
“Keep moving.”
00:08.
Nico shoved them upward.
They crossed the refrigerator room.
00:04.
Roman threw Megan to the floor behind a concrete wall.
A deafening blast shook the basement.
Glass shattered upstairs.
The hidden surveillance room disappeared behind fire and smoke.
For several seconds Megan heard nothing except ringing.
Then Roman lifted his head.
“You hurt?”
She shook her head.
Nico coughed through dust.
“Everyone's alive.”
Megan looked at Roman.
“Your father.”
Roman wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
“My father died in front of me.”
“You saw the body?”
His eyes met hers.
For the first time, Roman hesitated.
“No.”
Megan's stomach dropped.
Then a phone began ringing inside the smoke-filled basement.
Not hers.
Not Roman's.
Nico found it beneath a broken crate.
An old black flip phone.
Roman opened it.
One text message waited.
SON, WE NEED TO TALK.
Roman stared at the words.
A second message arrived.
May you like
BRING MEGAN PARKER.
COME ALONE.
