Chapter 11 - Why the Mafia Boss Really Protected Me
Thomas Vane stood in my doorway as if he had been invited.
Two police officers immediately moved toward him.
“Hands where we can see them.”
Thomas raised both hands.
The key remained between his fingers.
Roman stared at it.
I stared at Thomas.
“You were inside my house.”
“Yes.”
“You've been watching me.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
One officer took the key from him and searched him.
No weapon.
No phone.
Nothing except a folded piece of paper in his coat pocket.
Thomas didn't resist.
That frightened me more than if he had.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“To correct a misunderstanding.”
Roman moved beside me.
“You've had seventeen years.”
Thomas smiled.
“And you've wasted all seventeen.”
Roman's face hardened.
“You planted the bomb.”
“No.”
“You disappeared that night.”
“I was told to.”
“By Mercer?”
Thomas looked at me instead.
“Your father.”
Silence.
I almost laughed.
“My father told you to disappear?”
“Yes.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Thomas's smile vanished.
“I expect you to open the basement.”
Roman stepped forward.
“No.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Still afraid?”
“Of you?”
“Of what Daniel left your father.”
Roman stopped.
That was the first sign Thomas had struck something real.
I noticed.
“What did my father leave?”
Roman didn't answer.
Thomas did.
“The reason Roman Vale stood up at your anniversary dinner.”
I looked at Roman.
“He owed my father his life.”
Thomas laughed.
“That is the version Roman prefers.”
Roman's voice lowered.
“Be careful.”
“Or what?”
The officers glanced between them.
Thomas continued.
“Daniel saved Roman from the car bomb. That's true.”
I waited.
“But Daniel didn't save him by accident.”
“What does that mean?”
Thomas looked directly at me.
“Your father knew about the bomb before it was planted.”
My stomach dropped.
Roman said, “That's a lie.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Then open your father's basement.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
I stepped between them.
“What is in that basement?”
Roman looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Thomas laughed again.
“You own the house.”
“I haven't entered it since my father died.”
“Why?”
Roman didn't answer.
Thomas's expression changed.
“Tell her.”
Roman looked toward the officers.
Then me.
“My father locked the basement in 2009.”
“The night of the bombing?”
“The next morning.”
“Why?”
“He said it contained family records.”
“And you never opened it?”
“No.”
“Not once?”
“I had reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Roman hesitated.
Thomas answered for him.
“Because his father told him Daniel Bennett would die if he did.”
The hallway became silent.
I stared at Roman.
“Is that true?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Yes.”
Anger rose instantly.
“You knew my father was being threatened.”
“I knew my father threatened him.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I confronted Daniel.”
“When?”
“Two days after the bombing.”
My breath caught.
“What did he say?”
“He told me to stay out of it.”
“That sounds like Dad.”
“Yes.”
Roman's voice softened.
“He said he had a daughter.”
Me.
“He said if I wanted to repay him, I would forget his name.”
I swallowed.
“And you did?”
“For seventeen years.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Roman looked at him.
“You didn't forget her.”
My skin prickled.
“What?”
Thomas turned toward me.
“Ask him when he first saw you.”
Roman's face changed.
I stared at him.
“The restaurant.”
Silence.
“Roman?”
He looked away.
My stomach tightened.
“You told me you didn't know me before that night.”
“I didn't.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“No.”
“Had you seen me before?”
“Yes.”
The betrayal shouldn't have hurt.
Roman wasn't my husband.
He didn't owe me ten years of truth.
But after everything, another lie felt unbearable.
“When?”
“Your father's funeral.”
I froze.
“You were there?”
“Across the street.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel had saved my life.”
“Why didn't you speak to us?”
“He told me not to.”
My mother had come downstairs behind us.
I hadn't heard her.
She stared at Roman.
“I saw you.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
My mother whispered, “You followed us home.”
“Only to make sure you arrived safely.”
I looked between them.
“You knew Roman?”
“Not personally.”
“But you recognized him.”
“Yes.”
Another secret.
Of course.
Thomas watched me absorb it.
Then he said, “Ask Roman about your wedding.”
Roman closed his eyes.
My chest tightened.
“You were there too?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I had security outside.”
I stared at him.
“You had people watching my wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Kent was an Ashby.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So you knew I married Charles's son.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
“What should I have done? Walked into your wedding and told you your dead father once saved my life?”
“You could have warned me.”
“About what?”
“Kent.”
Roman's expression hardened.
“I had no evidence Kent had done anything to you.”
“He had been following me.”
“I didn't know that.”
“But you investigated him.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough to know he wasn't his father.”
My father's words again.
The children don't inherit the sins.
I looked at Thomas.
“You said Roman's protection wasn't about debt.”
“It wasn't only about debt.”
“What else?”
Thomas nodded toward Roman.
“Tell her.”
Roman said nothing.
I was tired of men requiring pressure before honesty.
“Tell me.”
Roman looked at me for a long moment.
“Your father made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That if Harrow ever came for you, I would keep you alive.”
“You already told me he asked you to forget us.”
“He did.”
“That contradicts itself.”
“No.”
Roman stepped closer.
“He told me to forget you unless one thing happened.”
“What?”
“April seventeenth resurfaced.”
I remembered the card at dinner.
4-17-09.
The moment Roman saw it, everything changed.
“That was the signal.”
“Yes.”
“You weren't protecting me because I was Daniel's daughter.”
“I was.”
“But there was more.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Roman looked at Thomas.
Thomas smiled faintly.
Roman hated him for knowing.
Finally Roman said, “Daniel believed the second ledger would eventually find its way to you.”
“Why me?”
“Because nobody would suspect he trusted a sixteen-year-old girl with the key to destroying Harrow.”
“I don't have the ledger.”
“Not physically.”
“Then where is it?”
Roman's gaze moved toward my head.
“Your memory.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
My mother went pale.
“Roman.”
He looked at her.
“You know.”
She closed her eyes.
“Know what?”
I demanded.
My mother sat down slowly.
“Your father taught you numbers.”
“Yes.”
“Sequences.”
“Yes.”
“Games.”
My childhood returned in fragments.
License plates.
Phone numbers.
Receipts.
Dad turning everything into puzzles.
“What number comes next, Claire Bear?”
I thought it was a game.
My mother continued.
“He started after he found the ledger.”
“No.”
“Claire—”
“I was sixteen.”
“He never told you what the numbers meant.”
I felt sick.
“He made me memorize them.”
“Yes.”
Roman nodded.
“Account sequences.”
I remembered hundreds of evenings at the kitchen table.
Dad reading numbers.
Me repeating them.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I had forgotten most.
Or thought I had.
Thomas said quietly, “Daniel didn't hide the second ledger.”
I looked at him.
“He broke it apart.”
“And put pieces in different places,” Roman said.
“Documents. Trusts. Keys. Recordings.”
Thomas pointed at me.
“And you.”
My throat tightened.
“So everyone wants me because they think I remember numbers from when I was sixteen?”
“Mercer does,” Thomas said.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel made sure the numbers were useless without something else.”
“What?”
“The index.”
“Where?”
Thomas nodded toward the key now sealed in a police evidence bag.
“Roman's basement.”
Roman swore.
My phone vibrated.
Another message from whoever had Kent.
MIDNIGHT IS GETTING CLOSER.
I looked at Thomas.
“You know where Kent is.”
“No.”
“You've been working with Mercer.”
“I worked against him.”
“For whom?”
“Daniel.”
“He's been dead seventeen years.”
“Instructions survive people.”
Roman stared at Thomas.
“You expect us to believe Daniel recruited you?”
“He caught me.”
“Doing what?”
“Preparing the bomb.”
Roman moved so quickly the officers stepped forward.
“You said you didn't plant it.”
“I didn't.”
“You just said—”
“I was paid to prepare Roman's car.”
“By Mercer?”
Thomas looked at me.
“By Charles Ashby.”
My stomach dropped.
Kent's father.
“Charles ordered Roman killed?”
“No.”
Thomas's voice became quieter.
“Charles paid me.”
“That isn't the same thing?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Charles was following instructions too.”
“From Mercer.”
Thomas hesitated.
“That's what Daniel believed.”
“But?”
“Daniel discovered Mercer wasn't at the top.”
Silence.
There was always another layer.
“Who was?”
“That name is in the basement.”
Roman looked toward the evidence bag.
Thomas continued.
“Daniel confronted me before the bombing. He offered me a choice.”
“What choice?”
“Help him expose Harrow or spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”
“You chose to help.”
“I chose to survive.”
“At least you're honest about something.”
Thomas almost smiled.
“Daniel said you'd be difficult.”
The words hit me strangely.
“You knew him well?”
“For eleven months.”
“And after he died?”
“I continued the work.”
“By living inside my walls?”
“Recently.”
“How recently?”
“Six weeks.”
My skin crawled again.
“You watched me sleep.”
His expression changed.
“I watched the people entering your house.”
“That's not better.”
“No.”
“Why didn't you just speak to me?”
“Because Mercer had someone closer.”
I froze.
“Closer than inside my house?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked toward Roman.
Roman looked equally confused.
“Not Roman.”
“Then Kent?”
“No.”
My heart started pounding.
“Vanessa?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Vanessa is ambitious, selfish and reckless. But she isn't Mercer's closest asset.”
“Margaret?”
“No.”
“My mother?”
My voice cracked.
Thomas looked at Elizabeth.
“No.”
My mother exhaled.
“Then who?”
Thomas's eyes met mine.
“Someone who has been beside you since before Kent.”
I stared at him.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will when you see the basement.”
Roman looked at the clock.
“We're wasting time.”
Thomas nodded.
“For once, we agree.”
The police officer stepped forward.
“Mr. Vane isn't going anywhere.”
Thomas held out his wrists.
“Arrest me.”
Everyone stared.
“I've committed enough crimes to make it easy.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because once I'm in custody, Mercer can't kill me without attracting attention.”
Roman laughed coldly.
“You think jail protects you from Mercer?”
“No.”
Thomas looked at me.
“But Claire does.”
“Me?”
“If Mercer kills me after I surrender to Claire Bennett, she knows I'm telling the truth.”
“That logic is insane.”
“Welcome to the last seventeen years.”
The officer handcuffed him.
Before they led him away, Thomas stopped beside me.
“Go to the Vale house.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
“Helpful.”
“But trust Daniel.”
He looked toward Roman.
“And when Roman opens the basement, make sure you're standing behind him.”
“Why?”
“Because the first thing inside was left for him.”
Roman's expression darkened.
“What?”
Thomas smiled.
“A confession.”
They took him away.
Thirty minutes later, Roman and I stood outside his childhood home.
My mother had insisted on coming.
The house sat above the water, dark and enormous.
Roman hadn't lived there in years.
He unlocked the front door.
Dust covered everything.
No staff.
No lights except those we turned on.
He led us downstairs.
At the end of a stone corridor stood a steel door.
One keyhole.
The key Thomas had carried fit perfectly.
Roman turned it.
Click.
My father's recorded warning echoed in my head.
Do not let Roman open the basement door.
“Wait.”
Roman stopped.
“What?”
“Dad specifically told me not to let you do this.”
Roman looked at me.
“Then you open it.”
I almost laughed.
“That feels like cheating.”
“Daniel liked technicalities.”
My mother whispered, “He did.”
I took the key.
Turned it.
The lock released.
I pulled the door open.
Cold air moved past us.
Inside were shelves.
Boxes.
Files.
Seventeen years of secrets.
And on a table sat an old television.
A red light blinked.
Roman approached.
The screen turned on automatically.
A man appeared.
Roman's father.
Older.
Terrified.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Roman, if you're watching this, then Daniel Bennett failed.”
Roman stopped breathing.
His father continued.
“And if Daniel's daughter is standing beside you, then Harrow has already found her.”
My skin went cold.
The recording crackled.
“I owe Daniel the truth.”
Roman stepped closer.
His father's face filled the screen.
“Daniel Bennett did not betray our family.”
A pause.
“I did.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
Then his father said:
“I gave Charles Ashby the order that led to Daniel's death.”
My mother gasped.
Roman went completely still.
The recording continued.
“But Charles didn't kill him.”
I couldn't breathe.
“The person who killed Daniel was someone he trusted enough to invite into his own home.”
The screen flickered.
A photograph appeared.
My childhood kitchen.
My father sat at the table.
Someone stood behind him.
The image sharpened.
My mother grabbed my arm.
“No.”
The person's face began to resolve.
Then every light in the basement went out.
A phone rang somewhere in the darkness.
Not mine.
Not Roman's.
My mother whispered, “That phone hasn't rung in seventeen years.”
Roman found it on the table.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A familiar voice came through the speaker.
Evelyn Shaw.
She was crying.
“Roman, don't turn the lights back on.”
A heavy sound came from behind us.
The basement door slammed shut.
May you like
Then Evelyn whispered:
“The person who killed Daniel is already in the room.”
