Chapter 6 - The Last Secret Marcus Romano Had Left
By noon, every major news network in New York had the story wrong.
ROMANO FAMILY POWER STRUGGLE.
BILLIONS AT STAKE.
MAFIA DYNASTY IMPLODES.
SHOOTING AT MIDTOWN TOWER.
Victor watched the headlines from a private hospital room while Adrian complained about everything.
“The coffee is terrible.”
“You were shot.”
“That doesn’t make the coffee better.”
The bullet had passed through Adrian’s shoulder without striking anything vital.
Doctors expected a full recovery.
Victor sat near the window.
Clara was across the hall receiving treatment for smoke inhalation and a sprained wrist.
He had asked about her six times.
Adrian had counted.
“She’s fine.”
Victor looked at him.
“I know.”
“You asked seven minutes ago.”
“I know.”
Adrian smiled.
Victor glared.
“Say it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking loudly.”
Adrian leaned back carefully.
“You like her.”
Victor stood.
“I’m leaving.”
“That confirms it.”
Victor walked toward the door.
Adrian called after him.
“For what it’s worth, I like her too.”
Victor stopped.
Slowly turned.
Adrian raised his good hand.
“Not like that.”
Victor left.
Across the hall, Clara sat on the edge of the hospital bed arguing with a nurse.
“I can walk.”
“You nearly fainted.”
“I had smoke inhalation.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s a respiratory issue, not a leg issue.”
Victor entered.
The nurse looked grateful.
“Please tell her to stay seated.”
Clara stared at him.
“Do not.”
Victor looked at the nurse.
“I’ll handle it.”
The nurse left.
Clara crossed her arms.
“If you tell me what to do, I’m leaving through the window.”
“Forty-second floor.”
“I’ll use the elevator.”
Victor sat opposite her.
“You scared me.”
The sentence ended the argument.
Clara blinked.
Victor did not look away.
“When you followed Marcus through that door.”
“I didn’t think.”
“I noticed.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I saw him leaving.”
“You should have let him.”
“He was going to escape.”
“I don’t care.”
Clara looked up.
“I do.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“You could have been killed.”
“So could you.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
Because people had been trying to kill Victor for most of his adult life.
Because danger felt normal to him.
Because Clara did not belong inside that world.
Because the sight of Marcus touching her had created a level of rage Victor had not felt in years.
He said none of those things.
Instead, he asked, “How’s your wrist?”
Clara smiled faintly.
“Excellent emotional avoidance.”
“Thank you.”
She looked down at the brace.
“Sprained.”
“You’re coming somewhere safe when you leave.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“My apartment was destroyed. I need to clean it.”
“It’s a crime scene.”
“Then I need a hotel.”
“You’ll stay at my townhouse.”
She stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That is not how invitations work.”
“It wasn’t an invitation.”
“Then definitely no.”
Victor leaned back.
“Do you argue with everyone?”
“Mostly people who treat me like luggage.”
He studied her.
Then softened.
“Please stay at my townhouse.”
Clara paused.
“That was painful for you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Fine.”
That evening, news worsened.
Marcus survived.
The bullet had struck his side.
He was under police guard.
Daniel Price was arrested.
The board suspended Marcus unanimously and confirmed Victor as chief executive.
But the financial scandal created a larger problem.
Federal investigators wanted records.
Banks froze selected accounts.
Business partners became nervous.
And online commentators treated Clara like a side character in Victor’s story.
One article called her “a junior accountant.”
Another described her as “an unidentified female employee.”
Clara read the headlines from Victor’s kitchen table.
“Unidentified female employee?”
Victor poured coffee.
“That bothers you?”
“I uncovered eleven million dollars in fraud.”
“I know.”
“They couldn’t even spell auditor.”
Victor placed a mug before her.
“Do you want me to call them?”
She looked up sharply.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because normal people don’t call newspapers because someone annoyed their auditor.”
Victor sat.
“I’ve never claimed to be normal.”
Clara laughed.
They spent the next three days working.
Federal investigators interviewed her.
Clara provided evidence.
Victor opened every corporate record requested.
To the surprise of prosecutors, Romano Holdings cooperated completely.
That decision angered several older members of the organization.
Victor did not care.
He had spent years moving the family business away from crime.
Marcus’s betrayal gave him the final excuse to cut away the remaining pieces.
On the fourth evening, Victor returned to the townhouse and found Clara asleep at the dining table.
Again.
Her cheek rested beside an open spreadsheet.
Half a doughnut sat on a napkin.
Victor stood there for a moment.
Something about the sight struck him differently now.
The first time he found her sleeping among his records, he had thought she was an intruder.
Now the house felt strangely right with her inside it.
He gently removed her glasses.
Clara woke.
Her eyes opened slowly.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She closed them again.
Victor smiled.
“Go to bed.”
“Five minutes.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“I was lying yesterday too.”
He sat beside her.
Clara opened one eye.
“You need sleep.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not the CEO of an unstable corporation.”
“You are the auditor of one.”
“That sounds worse when you say it.”
Victor looked at the spreadsheet.
“What are you working on?”
“Foundation accounts.”
His expression shifted.
“More theft?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“I found the missing money.”
Victor stared.
“What?”
“Not all of it. But most.”
She straightened and opened a report.
“Marcus moved money through temporary entities, but he didn’t spend everything. Some was parked in investment accounts awaiting transfer.”
“How much?”
“Eight point seven million.”
Victor leaned closer.
“Recoverable?”
“I think so.”
For the first time since this began, genuine relief entered his face.
Clara watched him.
“You really care about that foundation.”
“My mother started it.”
“I know.”
Victor looked at her.
“You researched her?”
“It was relevant.”
Clara hesitated.
“She seemed remarkable.”
“She was.”
“What was her name?”
“Isabella.”
Victor’s voice changed when he said it.
Softer.
Clara closed the laptop.
“Tell me about her.”
Victor almost refused.
He did not talk about his mother.
Not with employees.
Not with business partners.
Not even often with Adrian.
But Clara waited without pushing.
So Victor told her.
Isabella Romano had been a nurse before marrying Victor’s father.
She hated the Romano family’s criminal world.
She spent years using its money to help people harmed by the very systems her husband exploited.
She taught Victor to cook.
Forced him to attend public school until he was fourteen.
Made him volunteer at hospitals.
When cancer came, she refused special treatment unavailable to ordinary patients.
“She told me power only matters if someone weaker is safer because you have it,” Victor said.
Clara was silent.
Victor looked at her.
“That sounds naive now.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“It sounds like someone you’ve spent your whole life trying not to disappoint.”
The accuracy hit too deeply.
Victor looked away.
Clara realized she had gone too far.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Silence settled.
Then Victor asked, “Why accounting?”
Clara laughed softly.
“That story is less dramatic.”
“I doubt that.”
“My father left when I was twelve.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“My mother worked two jobs. Bills were always late. Everything felt unpredictable.”
She touched the edge of her laptop.
“Numbers weren’t.”
He listened.
“If a column didn’t balance, there was a reason. If money disappeared, it went somewhere. I liked that.”
“You became an auditor because numbers don’t lie.”
“No.”
Clara smiled.
“Numbers lie constantly. People use them to lie.”
She met his eyes.
“I became an auditor because they leave fingerprints.”
Victor looked at her for a long moment.
The space between them suddenly felt smaller.
Clara noticed.
So did he.
Victor lifted one hand slowly.
He gave her enough time to move away.
She did not.
His fingers brushed a curl away from her cheek.
Clara’s breath stopped.
Then Victor’s phone rang.
They both closed their eyes.
Adrian.
Victor answered.
“This better be important.”
“It is.”
Victor’s expression changed instantly.
Clara sat straighter.
Adrian continued through the phone.
“Marcus made bail.”
Victor stood.
“What?”
“Judge approved emergency medical release pending further hearing.”
“How?”
“High-powered lawyers.”
“Where is he?”
“That’s the problem.”
Victor’s grip tightened.
“No one knows.”
Clara stared at him.
May you like
Victor slowly looked toward her.
Three seconds later, the townhouse security alarm went off.
