Chapter 3 - THE FATHER WHO REFUSED TO STAY DEAD
Roman read the message twice.
Megan watched his face both times.
The first time, she saw the son.
The second time, she saw the mafia boss return.
Cold.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
“No,” Megan said.
Roman closed the phone.
She stared at him.
“No what?”
“I know that look.”
“You've known me for approximately four hours.”
“Long enough.”
Nico stepped closer.
“Boss, the fire department is three minutes out. We need to move.”
Roman handed him the flip phone.
“Clone everything. Trace the signal.”
Nico frowned.
“If this is who we think it is—”
“It isn't.”
Megan crossed her arms.
“That's convincing.”
Roman ignored her.
They went upstairs as employees gathered outside beneath umbrellas and emergency lights.
The explosion had been mostly contained underground, but smoke curled through the rear service corridor.
Roman's people moved quickly.
Too quickly.
Within minutes, cameras were covered, witnesses redirected, and explanations prepared.
Megan suddenly understood something uncomfortable.
Roman wasn't merely powerful.
He lived in a world designed to make inconvenient facts disappear.
And Thomas had spent years hiding inside that world.
A black SUV took Megan and Roman away before police arrived.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My house.”
“No.”
Roman looked across the back seat.
“Your apartment is compromised.”
“My son is there.”
“Not anymore.”
Her heart jumped.
“What?”
“Mrs. Alvarez and Leo were moved five minutes ago.”
“You moved my child without asking me?”
“To a secure property.”
Megan leaned forward.
“Turn this car around.”
Roman's security driver didn't react.
“Roman.”
“Your apartment has cameras inside it.”
“I know that.”
“So whoever placed them knows your son's bedroom, your routines, your entrances—”
“And I am his mother.”
Roman stopped.
Megan's voice shook.
“You don't get to make decisions about Leo.”
Silence filled the vehicle.
Then Roman nodded once.
“You're right.”
The answer surprised her.
He pulled out his phone and handed it over.
“Call him.”
Mrs. Alvarez answered on the second ring.
“Megan?”
“Is Leo okay?”
“He's complaining because these men wouldn't let him bring his dinosaur lamp.”
Megan closed her eyes.
That was such a Leo problem that tears nearly came.
“Put him on.”
“Mom?”
“Hey, peanut.”
“Are you still at work?”
“Something happened at the restaurant.”
“Did you get fired again?”
Roman looked out the window.
Megan glared at the back of his head.
“No.”
“Good, because Mrs. Alvarez said your boss sounds like a jerk.”
Roman's shoulders moved slightly.
Megan couldn't tell whether he was offended or amused.
“Listen, baby. You're going somewhere safe tonight. I'll meet you there soon.”
“Are there snacks?”
“I'll make sure.”
“Chocolate?”
“Yes.”
“Then okay.”
After they hung up, Megan handed Roman the phone.
“Chocolate.”
Roman nodded gravely.
“I'll alert the kitchen.”
Despite everything, she nearly laughed.
Then she remembered Thomas.
The laugh died.
Roman's mansion stood along Lake Michigan north of the city, hidden behind stone walls and old trees.
Megan expected something gaudy.
Gold statues.
Marble lions.
Maybe a fountain shaped like Roman himself.
Instead, the house looked almost severe.
Gray stone.
Tall windows.
Warm light.
Nothing excessive except its size.
Leo ran toward her the moment she entered.
Megan dropped to her knees.
He wrapped both arms around her neck.
“Mom!”
She held him too tightly.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
“You smell like smoke.”
“Long night.”
He looked over her shoulder.
“Is that the jerk?”
Roman had stopped ten feet away.
Megan closed her eyes.
Mrs. Alvarez appeared behind Leo, horrified.
“I absolutely did not call him that.”
“You kind of did,” Leo said.
Roman crouched to the boy's height.
“I'm Roman.”
“Are you Mom's boss?”
“No.”
Megan said, “Definitely not.”
Roman glanced at her.
Leo studied him.
“You look like you could be somebody's boss.”
“I occasionally give instructions.”
“Mom doesn't like instructions.”
“I've noticed.”
For the first time all night, Megan felt something loosen in her chest.
Then she noticed Roman wince when he stood.
“You're bleeding again.”
“I'm fine.”
“You were stabbed.”
“I remember.”
“You need a doctor.”
Roman glanced toward Nico.
“A doctor is waiting upstairs.”
“Good.”
“For you.”
Megan blinked.
“I wasn't stabbed.”
“You inhaled smoke.”
“So did you.”
Nico stepped between them.
“Both of you are seeing the doctor.”
Roman looked annoyed.
Megan smiled.
“I like him.”
Nico's phone buzzed.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Roman turned.
“We traced the flip phone.”
“And?”
“The signal bounced through six towers.”
Roman looked unsurprised.
“But somebody made a mistake.”
Nico held up a tablet.
“The final relay originated from a property in Barrington.”
Roman's expression hardened.
Megan noticed.
“You know it?”
“My family's old summer house.”
“Your father's?”
Roman nodded.
“We sold it after his death.”
“To whom?”
Nico answered.
“A holding company registered in Delaware.”
Megan looked between them.
“Let me guess. Nobody knows who owns the holding company.”
“We will,” Roman said.
The doctor stitched Roman's reopened wound in a private medical room.
Megan sat nearby despite repeated instructions to rest.
Roman removed his shirt.
She tried not to stare.
Not because of his body.
Because of the scars.
Too many.
Old bullet marks.
Knife wounds.
A long pale line crossing his shoulder.
Roman caught her looking.
“Disappointed?”
Megan frowned.
“About?”
“I assume Jimmy at the restaurant provided a dramatic biography.”
“He said complicated lives happen around you.”
“Accurate.”
“He didn't mention you collect scars.”
The doctor's hands paused.
Roman said quietly, “Most people around me know better than to mention them.”
Megan held his gaze.
“Maybe that's the problem.”
The doctor finished and left.
Roman pulled on a black shirt.
Megan noticed a framed photograph on a bookshelf.
Two men stood beside a sailboat.
One was much younger Roman.
The other had gray at his temples but the same eyes.
“Your father?”
Roman followed her gaze.
“Vittorio DeLuca.”
The man in the photograph didn't look cruel.
That somehow made him worse.
“What happened six years ago?”
Roman sat carefully.
“My father built Vale Logistics as the legitimate backbone of our family business. Trucks. Warehouses. Port contracts.”
“Legitimate?”
“Mostly.”
Megan raised an eyebrow.
Roman ignored it.
“Six years ago, federal investigators started looking at several Vale subsidiaries. Before anyone could testify, one warehouse burned.”
“How many died?”
“Seven.”
Megan thought about Thomas.
“Was he there?”
“His name never appeared on the employee list.”
“Maybe because he wasn't an employee.”
Roman's gaze sharpened.
“You think Thomas was investigating Vale.”
“He told me he sold insurance.”
“Insurance investigators inspect warehouses.”
Megan stood.
“He could have been undercover for his company.”
“Or someone else.”
She didn't like the suggestion.
“You think my husband was police?”
“Federal agent. Informant. Private investigator. I don't know.”
“You've got an entire criminal empire and that's the best answer you have?”
“My criminal empire does not include resurrection records.”
She almost smiled.
Then Nico entered.
He held a folder.
“We got the Barrington property records.”
Roman took them.
The current owner was Crown Harbor LLC.
Same crown.
Megan leaned closer.
“Who controls it?”
“Three shell companies,” Nico said. “But one payment came from a bank account in Geneva.”
Roman turned a page.
His eyes stopped.
“What?”
Roman didn't answer.
Nico did.
“The account belongs to Elena DeLuca.”
Roman went rigid.
Megan looked between them.
“Who is Elena?”
Roman's voice was flat.
“My mother.”
Megan stared.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then why does that sound like bad news?”
Roman closed the folder.
“Because my mother hasn't spoken my father's name in six years.”
“Maybe she's afraid.”
Roman gave a humorless smile.
“My mother is afraid of very little.”
A door opened downstairs.
Nico reached toward his weapon.
One of Roman's guards appeared.
“Mrs. DeLuca is here.”
Roman stood too quickly.
Megan saw pain flash through him.
“Did you call her?”
“No.”
Footsteps approached.
A woman in her early sixties entered wearing a cream coat over an elegant dark dress.
Silver threaded through black hair pulled neatly at her neck.
Her eyes found Roman first.
Then Megan.
Then the folder.
Elena DeLuca's face lost its color.
“Where did you get that?”
Roman's voice chilled.
“You tell me.”
Elena closed the door.
“Roman, send the woman away.”
Megan bristled.
Roman said, “Her name is Megan.”
“I know exactly who she is.”
Megan froze.
Roman noticed.
“How?”
Elena looked at Megan for several seconds.
Not like a stranger.
Like someone seeing a ghost.
Then Elena whispered, “You have Thomas's eyes.”
Megan felt the room tilt again.
“You knew my husband?”
Elena didn't answer.
Roman stepped between them.
“Mother.”
She looked at her son.
“Vittorio is alive.”
Roman did not move.
Megan heard Nico inhale.
Elena's eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall.
“He survived the warehouse fire.”
Roman's voice was almost inaudible.
“You buried him.”
“I buried an empty coffin.”
The silence became unbearable.
“Why?”
“Because he made me choose.”
“Between what?”
Elena looked toward the hallway where Leo's laughter faintly drifted from another room.
“Between my husband and my son.”
Roman went pale.
Elena continued.
“Vittorio had discovered that someone inside Vale was stealing from him. Not money. Information. Shipping routes. Judges. Police contacts. Names.”
“Thomas?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She looked at Megan.
“David Kesler.”
Megan felt cold.
Elena lowered her voice.
“Thomas caught him.”
Roman stepped closer.
“So my father kept Thomas alive.”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“Thomas was working with Vittorio.”
Megan recoiled.
“That's impossible.”
“Your husband wasn't a prisoner at first.”
“He let me think he was dead.”
Elena's expression softened.
“He did it to save you.”
“I had to tell our son his father was never coming home.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Megan's voice broke.
“You don't know what it was like when Leo waited beside the window every night because he didn't understand what dead meant.”
Roman watched her.
Megan wiped her eyes angrily.
“Don't tell me Thomas did that for me.”
Elena swallowed.
“Then perhaps he should tell you himself.”
Roman became still.
“What does that mean?”
Elena reached into her purse.
Nico stepped forward.
“Hands where I can see them.”
She gave him a cold look.
“I changed your diapers, Nicholas.”
Nico stopped.
Elena removed an old brass key.
Roman stared at it.
“I haven't seen that since I was fourteen.”
“Your father gave it to me.”
“What does it open?”
“The Barrington house.”
Roman took the key.
Elena's fingers remained around it.
“Do not go tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Vittorio wants you angry.”
Roman's expression hardened.
“He succeeded.”
“No. He wants you careless.”
She released the key.
Then she turned toward Megan.
“There is something else you need to know.”
Megan waited.
Elena's eyes dropped toward her hand.
Her wedding ring.
“Thomas came to see me three weeks after his funeral.”
Megan couldn't speak.
“He asked me to protect something.”
“What?”
Elena reached back into her purse.
This time she removed a folded photograph.
She handed it to Megan.
The image showed Thomas standing beside Vittorio DeLuca.
Between them stood David Kesler.
And a fourth man.
Megan recognized him.
Nico did too.
Roman's expression changed.
The fourth man was the police detective who had come to Megan's apartment four years ago.
The officer who told her Thomas was dead.
Detective Alan Reese.
On the back of the photograph, Thomas had written one sentence.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, REESE IS THE ONE WHO SOLD US OUT.
Megan looked up.
“We need to call the police.”
“No,” Roman said.
“Why?”
Before Roman could answer, Nico's phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We have police at the gate.”
Roman looked at Megan.
“How many?”
“Six cars.”
“Who is leading them?”
Nico slowly lowered the phone.
“Detective Alan Reese.”
Then the mansion's security system announced:
May you like
“POLICE WARRANT. OPEN THE GATE.”
And upstairs, Leo screamed.
