Chapter 5 - The Sister Who Took Everything
Roman moved before anyone else.
"Inside."
Marco opened the front door.
Ava stumbled toward it.
I remained where I was.
Roman looked at me.
"Claire."
"If those are Victor's people, why would they drive directly to my house?"
He paused.
Good.
He was beginning to realize that telling me to hide only made me stubborn.
The sedans stopped.
Doors opened.
Six men emerged.
Then Ethan.
My stomach dropped.
He walked toward us alone.
Roman stepped between us.
"What are you doing here?"
Ethan looked terrible.
His tie was gone.
There was blood on his lower lip.
"Victor knows she took the key."
He pointed at Ava.
Roman's voice hardened.
"Did you bring him here?"
"No."
"Then whose cars?"
"Mine."
Roman glanced at the vehicles.
"You don't own three armored sedans."
"I borrowed them."
"From whom?"
Ethan looked at me.
"Federal agents."
Everything stopped.
A man exited the rear vehicle.
Dark suit.
Government identification.
"Roman DeLuca?"
Roman didn't move.
The man approached.
"Special Agent Daniel Mercer."
Roman's mouth tightened.
"Unfortunate surname."
The agent ignored that.
"We need to speak privately."
I stepped forward.
"No."
Mercer looked at me.
"And you are?"
"Claire DeLuca."
Saying it aloud still felt surreal.
Ethan flinched.
Good.
Mercer glanced between Roman and me.
"So the report was accurate."
"What report?"
"Your marriage."
Roman said, "Get to the point."
Mercer did.
"Victor Rinaldi has been under federal investigation for eleven years."
Mother appeared in the doorway behind us.
"Eleven?"
Mercer recognized her.
"Margaret Bennett."
Mother went pale.
"You're supposed to be retired."
"I'm supposed to be many things."
I looked at her.
"You know him?"
Mother said nothing.
Mercer answered.
"Mrs. Bennett was a confidential informant."
My entire understanding of the last twenty-four hours collapsed again.
"What?"
Mother closed her eyes.
Mercer continued.
"Twenty-one years ago."
I turned on her.
"You worked with the FBI?"
"Briefly."
"You couldn't mention that?"
"It nearly got your father killed."
Mercer looked at Roman.
"And your father."
Roman's face changed.
The pieces shifted.
Victor.
The Bennetts.
The DeLucas.
The old agreement.
It hadn't only been business.
It had been survival.
Mercer looked at the key in my hand.
"Box 417 contains the original financial records tying Rinaldi to multiple criminal enterprises."
"And proving I didn't knowingly sign anything?"
"If Thomas Bennett placed what he claimed inside, yes."
I tightened my fingers around the key.
"Then why hasn't the FBI retrieved it?"
"Because Mercer Vault Services isn't technically a bank. It's a private repository with layered ownership and offshore custodial restrictions."
Roman said, "Meaning you can't get a warrant quickly enough."
"Correct."
I almost laughed.
"Yet apparently I can walk in."
"If you're listed on the original account."
I looked at Mother.
"Am I?"
She nodded.
"Your father added you."
Roman said, "We're going."
Mercer shook his head.
"No."
Roman stared.
"I wasn't asking."
"Victor expects you."
"Good."
Mercer stepped closer.
"If you enter with a private army, he destroys the evidence."
Roman's jaw tightened.
I spoke.
"I'll go."
Everyone said no at once.
I almost smiled.
"You all realize that reaction makes me more determined."
Roman turned toward me.
"Claire."
"It's my account."
"It's a trap."
"Obviously."
"You don't walk into obvious traps."
"Why? Because that's traditionally the husband's responsibility?"
"This isn't funny."
"No. But we're running out of time."
Ava grabbed my hand.
"I'm coming."
I looked at her.
"No."
"I stole the key."
"You've done enough."
Pain crossed her face.
She deserved that sentence.
I hated myself for saying it.
She let go.
"You're right."
Her voice broke.
"I have."
I turned away.
Roman followed me into the study.
"Absolutely not."
I looked at him.
"Do our marriage vows include unilateral command authority?"
"No."
"Then we're discussing, not ordering."
He exhaled.
"I can protect you if I'm beside you."
"Victor expects that."
"He expects me to behave like my father."
"What would your father do?"
"Bring twenty armed men."
"And what will you do?"
Roman looked at me for a long moment.
"Whatever you decide."
That answer changed something.
Not dramatically.
Not romantically.
But somewhere between betrayal and terror, trust placed its first brick.
"We go together," I said. "No army."
"Marco drives."
"Fine."
"Mercer tracks us."
"Fine."
"You wear a microphone."
"Fine."
"If I say run—"
"I'll consider it."
"Claire."
"I'll run."
He nodded.
Before leaving, I went upstairs.
Ava followed.
I changed out of the gown.
Jeans.
Black sweater.
Flat shoes.
When I turned, Ava stood in the doorway.
"Can I say something?"
"You've always been able to."
"Not anymore."
That hurt because it was true.
I waited.
Ava clasped her hands.
"I loved him."
"Ethan."
She nodded.
"How long?"
"Eight months."
I closed my eyes.
Eight months.
Christmas.
My birthday.
Our mother's anniversary dinner.
Eight months of photographs where Ava stood beside me smiling.
"Did you sleep with him?"
Her silence answered.
I turned away.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't."
"I know sorry doesn't—"
"Then don't say it."
She cried quietly.
I hated seeing her cry.
I hated that I still loved her.
"You were my best friend."
"I know."
"You helped me choose wedding venues."
"I know."
"You listened to me talk about children with him."
Ava covered her mouth.
"I know."
I faced her.
"Why?"
She struggled for breath.
"Because my entire life, you were the one everyone trusted."
I stared.
"Dad trusted you with the company. Mom compared me to you. Teachers did. Men did. I was always Claire's beautiful little sister."
"So you took Ethan."
"No."
She shook her head.
"At first, he chose me."
That sliced.
"But I let him. And then I kept letting him because for once, something that belonged to you wanted me more."
There it was.
Ugly.
Honest.
Human.
"And was it worth it?"
She looked down.
"No."
I believed her.
That wasn't forgiveness.
But it was a beginning.
"Why did Mother encourage you?"
"She said Ethan was using you. She told me if he could be tempted, he wasn't worthy of you."
I laughed bitterly.
"Mother turned adultery into quality assurance."
Ava almost smiled through tears.
Then her face became serious.
"She also said Victor needed Ethan distracted."
"What?"
Ava looked toward the hallway.
"There's something else."
Of course there was.
"What?"
"The night Dad died, Mom wasn't at the hospital."
My breath stopped.
"Yes, she was."
"She arrived after."
"No."
"I was there first."
I remembered.
Rain.
Hospital corridors.
Mother holding Dad's hand.
But had she been there when I'd arrived?
Memory blurred.
"Where was she?"
"With Victor."
Ava swallowed.
"I found photos in her desk."
A knock sounded downstairs.
Roman.
"We need to go."
I looked at Ava.
"Show Mercer the photos."
She nodded.
Then grabbed my arm.
"Claire."
"What?"
"There's one more thing."
I waited.
"Ethan knew."
"Knew what?"
"About Mom meeting Victor that night."
My stomach tightened.
"How?"
"Because Ethan drove her."
I walked downstairs.
Ethan stood beside Mercer.
He saw my face and knew immediately.
"What did Ava tell you?"
"Where were you the night my father died?"
Silence.
Roman looked at Ethan.
Mercer stopped writing.
Ethan's shoulders fell.
"Claire."
"Answer me."
"I drove Margaret to a restaurant."
"To meet Victor."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I didn't know then."
"When did you know?"
"Later."
"How much later?"
He looked away.
"Two weeks."
I laughed.
Six years.
He had hidden it for almost all of them.
I walked past him.
Mercer said, "Mrs. DeLuca."
I turned.
He handed me a tiny transmitter.
"We'll hear everything."
I clipped it inside my sweater.
Roman opened the door.
Before stepping outside, Ethan spoke.
"Claire."
I didn't turn.
"Victor didn't kill your father."
My hand froze.
"How do you know?"
"Because someone else was in the room when he died."
I looked back.
Ethan's face had gone pale.
"Who?"
He opened his mouth.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Then at Roman.
"What?"
Roman asked.
Ethan answered.
"It's Victor."
The call stopped.
A message appeared.
Ethan read it.
His face changed.
Then he handed the phone to me.
COME TO MERCER VAULT.
BRING CLAIRE.
BRING ROMAN.
May you like
AND BRING MARGARET.
SHE KNOWS WHO WAS WITH THOMAS WHEN HE DIED.
