Chapter 13 - What Roman Duca Couldn't Buy
We did not wait until midnight.
Police searched the old wall.
So did a building inspector.
Behind a section of paneling installed during the Franklin Café years, they found a metal box.
Inside were Elena's original plans.
Not just for a café.
For a nonprofit training kitchen for grieving and at-risk teenagers.
Lily sat on the floor reading them.
“She wanted this.”
Roman crouched beside her.
“Yes.”
“And nobody knew.”
“Nathan knew.”
That was why he believed he alone could preserve her dream.
But Elena's final note destroyed that fantasy.
If anything happens to me, do not let Nathan control this project.
Roman closed his eyes.
Nathan hadn't honored Elena.
He had violated the exact thing she'd asked for.
Police finally located him near the waterfront.
He surrendered after a brief standoff.
No grand revenge.
No Roman-style punishment.
Handcuffs.
Charges.
Evidence.
Court.
It felt almost anticlimactic.
I loved that.
Real justice didn't need dramatic music.
It needed documentation.
Weeks passed.
Nathan remained in custody.
Marco agreed to cooperate.
Celeste publicly admitted responsibility for exposing the fake arrangement and for the PR campaign conducted through her company, while denying knowledge of the threats. Investigators sorted criminal responsibility from stupidity and jealousy.
My bakery recovered.
Then Roman arrived one morning carrying papers.
I immediately narrowed my eyes.
“No.”
“You haven't read them.”
“I know your paperwork face.”
He placed them down.
Not a check.
Not an investment.
Documents transferring Elena's recovered project materials and remaining legitimate foundation funds into a new independent trust.
Lily would eventually sit on its board.
So would educators.
Counselors.
Community members.
Roman would not control it.
Neither would I.
“You did this?”
“Lily did.”
Lily emerged from behind him.
“I bullied him.”
“Proud of you.”
Roman looked offended.
The plan was to create Elena's Table, an after-school baking and culinary program.
Not inside my bakery.
Next door.
Independent.
Connected.
I looked at Roman.
“You didn't buy my building.”
“No.”
“You didn't secretly pay my debt.”
“No.”
“You didn't acquire my supplier?”
He paused.
“Roman.”
“I considered it.”
I pointed toward the door.
He laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“Our three weeks ended a month ago.”
“I noticed.”
“You haven't called me your boyfriend.”
“You haven't earned the promotion.”
“What does it require?”
I stepped closer.
“No contract.”
“No money?”
“No.”
“No rules?”
I smiled.
“Plenty of rules.”
His hand settled gently at my waist.
“Clare.”
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
That question.
After everything.
I touched his face.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
Slowly.
No audience.
No arrangement.
No performance.
Then Lily groaned.
“You know I'm standing here.”
We separated.
Roman looked annoyed.
I laughed.
The front bell rang.
Detective Ellis entered.
Her expression erased my smile.
“Nathan made a statement.”
Roman straightened.
“What did he say?”
She placed an evidence photograph on my counter.
It showed Elena's car after the fatal crash.
A brake line was circled in red.
May you like
Detective Ellis looked at Roman.
“Nathan says Elena's death wasn't an accident.”
