Chapter 8 - The Falco Secret
Roman took the photograph.
"My mother died when I was twenty."
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Harper felt the pattern immediately.
Another death.
Another lie.
"Where is she?" Roman asked.
Marcus laughed bitterly.
"You really don't know."
Roman grabbed his jacket.
"Where?"
"Put the gun away."
Roman hadn't drawn one.
But three security men had.
Marcus raised his hands.
"I came because Margaret Bennett was taken."
Harper stepped forward.
"By whom?"
"Isabella Falco."
Roman's mother.
Alive.
Roman looked as if the floor had shifted beneath him.
Marcus explained.
Isabella had created the financial architecture D.C.M. later used.
Jonathan Bennett built the legal framework.
Arthur Mercer expanded it.
Daniel protected it.
When Roman's father tried to expose the operation, Isabella disappeared.
Everyone believed she was dead.
"Why return now?" Harper asked.
Marcus looked at her.
"Because Arthur failed."
"And my mother?"
"Leverage."
Roman's voice became ice.
"Take us to Isabella."
Marcus did.
An old Falco estate stood north of the city.
They entered shortly before dawn.
Margaret sat in the library.
Alive.
Across from her was Isabella Falco.
Roman stopped.
His mother looked up.
"My son."
He didn't move.
"You let me believe you were dead."
Isabella's expression softened.
"It protected you."
Harper almost laughed at the repetition.
Apparently parents in criminal conspiracies loved that sentence.
Roman said, "You killed my father."
"No."
"Then who?"
"Arthur."
"Marcus says otherwise."
Isabella looked at Marcus.
"He doesn't know everything."
Harper stepped forward.
"Then tell us everything."
Isabella studied her.
"Jonathan's daughter."
"Yes."
"You're as impatient as he was."
"My father is dead. You don't get to romanticize him."
Something like respect appeared in Isabella's eyes.
She explained that D.C.M. had originally been created to hide assets from organized crime groups extorting shipping businesses.
It had begun as protection.
Then Arthur realized the system could hide anything.
Bribes.
Kickbacks.
Political money.
By the time Jonathan and Roman's father tried to dismantle it, D.C.M. had become enormous.
"Why disappear?"
"Because Arthur threatened Roman."
Roman's face remained hard.
"So everyone sacrificed their children by abandoning them."
Isabella flinched.
"Roman—"
"No."
Harper recognized his anger.
It looked like hers.
Not explosive.
Quiet.
Old.
He turned away.
Then gunfire shattered the windows.
Arthur's people had arrived.
The estate erupted into chaos.
Roman pulled Harper behind a stone wall.
Marcus returned fire.
Margaret and Isabella escaped through a cellar passage.
Harper followed Roman.
In the tunnel, Isabella handed him a small metal case.
"Everything is here."
Roman opened it.
Bank records.
Original D.C.M. incorporation papers.
Audio recordings.
Enough evidence to dismantle the network.
Then Isabella stopped.
"There's one more thing."
She looked at Harper.
"Connor Hayes was never assigned to seduce you."
Harper frowned.
"What?"
"Daniel hired him to watch you."
"That's what I said."
"No."
Isabella's eyes hardened.
"Connor volunteered for the rest."
The distinction landed painfully.
Connor hadn't been ordered to propose.
He hadn't been ordered to build a life with Harper.
Those choices had been his.
Harper looked away.
Roman quietly closed the case.
They escaped through the woods.
Federal agents intercepted Arthur's men.
By noon, Isabella surrendered herself along with the evidence.
Margaret did too.
Roman watched his mother being taken into custody.
Harper stood beside him.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"Good answer."
He looked at her.
"Are you?"
"No."
"Also good."
She slipped her hand into his.
He held it.
Nothing more.
For several minutes, that was enough.
Then Harper's phone rang.
Connor.
She almost ignored it.
Instead she answered.
"I need to see you," he said.
"No."
"Harper, please."
"Give me one reason."
"I found the missing section of your father's tape."
Harper's breath caught.
"Where?"
"Paige had it."
"Why?"
"She stole it from Daniel three years ago."
Harper looked at Roman.
"Where are you?"
"My apartment."
They arrived thirty minutes later.
Connor looked exhausted.
Paige sat at the kitchen table.
Between them lay a microcassette.
Harper inserted it into a player.
Her father's voice resumed.
"The second founder is Arthur Mercer. But Arthur isn't the person I fear most."
Everyone listened.
"If anything happens to me, Harper must never trust—"
Static.
Then a name.
Barely audible.
Harper replayed it.
Again.
Roman leaned closer.
The recording said:
"Marcus Vale."
Everyone turned.
Marcus had come with them.
He stood near the doorway.
His face changed.
Roman whispered, "Marcus?"
Marcus slowly reached inside his jacket.
Roman's security men raised their weapons.
Marcus smiled sadly.
May you like
"I'm sorry, son."
Then every light in Connor's apartment went dark.
