Chapter 8 - THE WEIGHT OF REDEMPTION
Silvio looked at his guards. The four men, all veteran union dockworkers on private payroll, exchanged nervous glances. One of them quietly holstered his weapon, stepped back, and raised his hands.
“I ain't going down for human trafficking, Silvio,” the guard muttered. “We’re out.”
“Get back here, you coward!” Silvio roared, raising his gun toward Roman.
Before he could pull the trigger, Leo charged forward with a roar of pure, unbridled fury, tackling his uncle to the cold concrete. The gun clattered away across the gravel, skittering off the edge of the pier and splashing into the black water below.
Roman moved like lightning, pulling his brother back before Leo could beat the older man senseless. Silvio lay on the ground, coughing, his expensive coat ruined, his dignity completely shattered.
From the access road, sirens wailed as Chicago police cruisers and federal sedans flooded the pier, blue and red lights painting the shipping containers in brilliant streaks of color.
Cal stepped out of the lead police car, nodding curtly to Roman. “Everything’s locked down, Boss. The feds have the bank records, the tape, and the adoption fraud files.”
As the officers hauled Silvio to his feet and cuffed him, the disgraced uncle glared at Mara with pure venom. “You ruined this family, you meddling nobody!”
Mara stepped forward, standing tall, radiant, and completely unbothered. “I didn't ruin your family, Silvio. I just moved the furniture so the truth could breathe.”
Leo let out a loud, breathless laugh, wrapping an arm around Mara’s shoulders in an impulsive, fierce hug. “I love this woman, Roman. If you don't marry her, I’m putting her on the corporate board tomorrow.”
Roman stepped in, gently peeling his brother off Mara and pulling her against his own chest. His arm settled firmly, possessively, around her waist, his head bending close to hers.
“She’s not marrying you, Leo,” Roman murmured, his voice rich and deep, his lips brushing the curve of Mara’s ear, making a delicious shiver run down her spine. “And she’s already indispensable.”
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Mara looked up into Roman’s dark, intense eyes. The coldness that had defined him was completely gone, replaced by a heat that made her heart race. “Does this mean I don't have to put your grandfather’s portrait back?”
“That portrait is going into the fireplace,” Roman promised softly. “Tonight.”
