Chapter 5 - The Woman Roman Buried Twenty-Two Years Ago
Roman had imagined his mother alive thousands of times as a child.
He imagined her walking into school.
Appearing at Christmas.
Waiting beside the gates when he came home.
He imagined running toward her.
None of those fantasies included a gun in his hand.
“Don’t move,” Roman said.
Sofia smiled as though he had said something charming.
“You still crease your forehead exactly like your father.”
“Don’t talk about him.”
“That will make this conversation difficult.”
Bianca backed toward the wall.
Claire remained beside the pew.
Roman positioned himself between Sofia and both women.
Sofia noticed.
“Protective.”
“Why are you here?”
“To keep you alive.”
Roman almost laughed.
“You’ve had twenty-two years.”
“Roman—”
“You let me bury you.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always had choices.”
Sofia’s smile faded.
“Your father wanted me dead.”
“My father spent years mourning you.”
“Your father performed grief beautifully.”
Roman did not believe her.
But he had learned not to dismiss information because he hated the source.
“Who killed him?”
Sofia glanced toward Claire.
“Her mother knows.”
Roman tightened his grip.
“Tell me.”
“Eleanor kept the original ledger.”
“This is the ledger.”
“No.”
Sofia looked at the black book.
“That is a copy.”
Claire stepped forward.
“My mother said the same thing.”
Roman looked at her.
“When?”
“In the chapel. Before she left.”
Sofia nodded.
“Eleanor always was careful.”
Roman said, “Where is Matteo?”
Sofia’s expression softened.
“Running.”
“From me?”
“From me.”
Bianca whispered, “You were working together.”
“Once.”
Sofia turned to her.
“Your father should have taught you that alliances expire.”
Bianca went pale.
Roman raised the gun again.
“Enough riddles.”
Sofia sighed.
“Matteo did help me disappear. He did help move shipments. He did steal money. He did forge signatures.”
“And my father?”
“He did not kill Vittorio.”
Roman stared.
“Who did?”
Sofia looked directly at him.
“I did.”
Claire inhaled sharply.
Roman stopped feeling the room.
The chapel.
The storm.
Everything narrowed to his mother’s face.
Sofia continued quietly.
“Your father discovered the operation. He planned to turn state’s evidence, destroy every family connected to us, and place you into federal protection.”
Roman’s voice dropped.
“So you poisoned him.”
“He gave me no alternative.”
“There is always an alternative.”
“Spoken like a man who inherited the power I protected.”
Roman stepped toward her.
“You murdered my father.”
“I prevented him from destroying you.”
“You destroyed me.”
For the first time, Sofia looked wounded.
Roman did not care.
Claire touched his arm gently.
Not restraining him.
Grounding him.
Sofia noticed.
Then smiled again.
“So that is why.”
Roman turned.
“Why what?”
“Why Claire had to die.”
Claire stiffened.
Roman’s gun snapped upward.
“You ordered it.”
“No.”
Sofia’s calm answer surprised everyone.
Roman did not lower the weapon.
“Then who?”
“Matteo.”
Bianca said, “You just said Matteo was running from you.”
“Because he failed.”
Roman’s voice sharpened.
“Explain.”
Sofia walked slowly toward the altar.
Guards tracked her.
“Matteo learned Eleanor’s daughter was inside the mansion. He panicked. He believed Claire had come to expose him.”
“He forged my initials?”
“Yes.”
“He took her coat?”
“One of his men did.”
“He locked the cellar?”
“Yes.”
“Why the Bellacosta?”
“To frighten you.”
Roman frowned.
Sofia continued.
“He wanted you to find the vial, the broken bottle, the old receipt. He wanted you to believe Claire had discovered proof that he killed Vittorio.”
“Why would he point suspicion at himself?”
“He didn’t. He intended Claire to die in the storm and the evidence to point toward Damian Cole.”
Roman remembered the black signet ring.
“Damian worked for Matteo?”
“No. Damian worked for Eleanor.”
Claire whispered, “My mother.”
Sofia nodded.
“He has protected her for fifteen years.”
Roman thought of the sniper at North Harbor.
“Who shot Damian?”
“My people.”
Roman looked at his mother with disgust.
“You say that like you’re discussing dinner reservations.”
“I stopped apologizing for survival a long time ago.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Then start apologizing for murder.”
Sofia’s eyes hardened.
“You are more like Vittorio than I hoped.”
“Good.”
That answer finally broke something in her expression.
Sofia reached inside her coat.
Every guard raised a weapon.
Roman shouted, “Hands!”
She froze.
Slowly she removed a small envelope.
“I came to give you this.”
She placed it on the floor.
Roman did not touch it.
“What is it?”
“Proof Matteo ordered Claire into the storm.”
“Why help me?”
“Because Matteo planned something beyond Claire.”
Roman waited.
“He was going to kill you tonight.”
“With the Bellacosta?”
“No.”
Sofia smiled grimly.
“The poison story was mine. Years ago.”
Roman felt sick.
“Then the bottle?”
“A diversion.”
“What was Matteo’s plan?”
Sofia looked toward the ballroom wing.
“Gas.”
Roman stared.
“The heating system.”
Sofia nodded.
“He planned to release carbon monoxide into the east ventilation zones after midnight. Guests would blame the generator during the storm. You, Bianca, several rivals, and anyone who could challenge him would be dead by morning.”
Roman grabbed his radio.
“Evacuate east wing. Shut down heating. Now.”
Security exploded into motion.
Sofia remained still.
Roman looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because Matteo used one of my old engineers.”
“Name?”
“Julian Cross.”
Enzo’s voice came over the radio.
“Roman, we found Cross in the boiler room.”
“Alive?”
“No.”
Roman shut his eyes.
Matteo was erasing witnesses.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Matteo speaking to a maintenance worker beside the heating control room.
Timestamp: that afternoon.
There was also a copy of the forged note sent to Claire.
Roman looked at Sofia.
“Where’s the original?”
“Matteo has it.”
“Where is he going?”
“If he follows the plan he made fifteen years ago, Canada.”
Roman smiled without humor.
“He won’t reach the county line.”
Sofia stepped closer.
“Roman.”
“What?”
“Matteo isn’t your only problem.”
Roman laughed bitterly.
“My mother who murdered my father is standing in my chapel. I’m aware.”
Sofia’s expression became serious.
“Eleanor has the original ledger.”
“So?”
“The ledger does not only expose Matteo.”
“It exposes you.”
“And your father.”
Roman stopped.
“What did Vittorio do?”
Sofia looked at Claire.
“Ask Eleanor.”
Roman turned to Claire.
She looked frightened now for a different reason.
“What did your mother tell you?”
Claire shook her head.
“Nothing.”
Roman knew she was lying.
“Claire.”
She looked away.
“Nothing.”
Sofia smiled.
“She knows more than she admits.”
Roman’s voice softened.
“Claire.”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“My mother told me not to trust you.”
Roman went still.
“She said your father didn’t plan to expose the organization because he became honest.”
Sofia watched silently.
Claire continued.
“She said he wanted immunity for himself.”
Roman swallowed.
“And everyone else?”
“He was willing to trade them.”
Roman stared at the floor.
His father had not been a saint.
Roman had never believed he was.
But he had built an entire private mythology around Vittorio’s final years.
A man trying to escape.
A father trying to save his son.
Perhaps only half of that was true.
Sofia said, “Your father wanted you protected. He did not care who else burned.”
Roman looked at her.
“That still didn’t give you the right to kill him.”
“No.”
The answer surprised him.
Sofia’s eyes softened.
“I know.”
For the first time all night, she sounded human.
Roman looked toward Claire.
“What matters now is keeping you safe.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
He frowned.
“My mother is still out there.”
“She survived fifteen years.”
“And she came back because of me.”
Roman understood.
“You want to find her.”
“Yes.”
“Then we find her.”
Bianca stared at him.
“You’re letting Claire stay involved?”
Roman looked at Claire’s bruised wrists.
“I’m not letting her do anything.”
Claire almost smiled.
“Good answer.”
At 2:04 a.m., Enzo returned.
“Matteo’s vehicle is gone.”
“When?”
“1:31.”
“Track it.”
“We did.”
Enzo held up a tablet.
The GPS signal stopped ten minutes earlier at St. Agnes Cemetery.
Roman frowned.
His father was buried there.
So was the empty grave bearing Sofia’s name.
Roman looked at his mother.
“Why would Matteo go there?”
Sofia’s face changed.
“He wouldn’t.”
Enzo said, “Someone used his vehicle.”
Roman looked at the map.
Another message appeared.
From Eleanor.
CLAIRE. COME TO VITTORIO’S GRAVE.
ALONE.
Roman read it twice.
Claire whispered, “That’s my mother’s number.”
Roman said, “You are not going alone.”
The chapel bells suddenly rang.
No one had touched them in years.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A guard ran in.
“Roman!”
“What?”
“We found Matteo.”
“Where?”
The guard looked toward the tunnel.
“Under the chapel.”
Roman’s hand went to his gun.
“Alive?”
The guard swallowed.
“Yes.”
Roman started forward.
Then the guard added:
“But he keeps saying the same thing.”
“What?”
“He says Sofia is lying.”
Roman turned toward his mother.
Sofia was gone.
The confessional door swung slowly on its hinges.
From beneath the chapel, Matteo screamed:
“Roman! Your mother didn’t order your father’s murder.”
May you like
He screamed again.
“She ordered Claire’s.”
