Chapter 4 - The Woman in Building Six
Roman ordered three vehicles.
Mara refused all three.
“I’m riding with you.”
Roman looked at her torn wedding gown.
“You can barely move in that.”
“Then cut the train.”
The entire room went silent.
Mara looked down at the dress.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
She smiled without humor.
“Actually, I’m done letting people cut things that belong to me.”
Andrew found a garment bag.
Inside was the simple ivory dress Mara had planned to wear at the reception.
She changed quickly in the adjoining room.
When she returned, she carried the damaged veil folded over her arms.
Roman looked at it.
“You’re bringing the original?”
“The message asked for it.”
“They’ll destroy it.”
“They already tried.”
Celeste stepped forward.
“There’s another reason they need it.”
Mara stopped.
“What?”
“The stitching contains names.”
“Whose?”
“Judges. Bankers. Police officers. Business owners.”
Roman’s expression darkened.
Celeste continued.
“And one name that can destroy Vittorio.”
Roman looked toward his father.
Vittorio was gone.
Mara’s stomach dropped.
“How?”
Roman’s man rushed in.
“The service corridor.”
Roman swore.
A hidden maintenance passage connected the bridal suite to the kitchens.
Vittorio had known the house better than they did.
Of course he had.
Roman called his team.
“Find him.”
Celeste shook her head.
“He won’t run.”
Roman looked at her.
“He’ll go to Ruth.”
The drive to North Harbor took twenty-six minutes.
Mara spent every one of them staring at the veil.
Andrew sat across from her.
Roman sat beside her.
No one spoke for the first ten minutes.
Then Mara asked Andrew:
“When did you fall in love with me?”
He looked up.
She expected hesitation.
He gave none.
“The bookstore.”
Mara remembered.
Their third meeting.
She had spilled coffee on his jacket.
“You knew me before that.”
“I knew your name.”
“You had photographs.”
“Yes.”
“You had a file.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t romantic.”
“No.”
“Did my grandmother tell you what to say to me?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you what I liked?”
“She told me not to lie to you.”
Mara laughed.
Andrew looked down.
“I failed that part.”
“Yes.”
“I thought if I told you how we met, I’d lose you.”
“You might.”
“I know.”
Roman watched them quietly.
Mara looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
Roman looked out the window.
“You should hear the entire truth before you decide anything.”
“About Andrew?”
“About everyone.”
Mara looked at the veil.
“Including you?”
“Yes.”
They reached Building Six.
It was an abandoned shipping warehouse.
Roman’s men surrounded the perimeter.
No sign of Vittorio.
No visible guards.
That worried Roman.
He held Mara back as they approached the door.
“Stay behind me.”
She almost argued.
Then decided survival was more useful than pride.
The door was unlocked.
Inside, overhead lights buzzed.
A chair sat in the center.
Empty.
Ropes lay on the floor.
Mara’s heart dropped.
“Ruth?”
A sound came from behind stacked crates.
Roman signaled.
Two men moved forward.
A woman emerged.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
Blood on one sleeve.
Mara knew her immediately without ever having seen her.
Ruth Bell.
Ruth looked at Mara.
Then at the veil.
Her face folded.
“Evelyn’s girl.”
Mara crossed the room.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not badly.”
“Who took you?”
Ruth looked at Roman.
“Your father’s people.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“Why?”
“Because this wasn’t the real meeting place.”
Roman went still.
Ruth pointed toward Mara’s veil.
“They wanted you to bring that here so they could confirm you still had it.”
Andrew looked around.
“Confirm for whom?”
A red light blinked above them.
Camera.
Roman swore.
His men moved to disable it.
Ruth shook her head.
“Too late.”
Mara stared.
“Where is the real meeting?”
Ruth looked at her earrings.
“The pearls.”
Mara removed them.
“Again?”
“Evelyn liked layers.”
Roman almost smiled.
Mara twisted the second pearl differently.
A microscopic engraving appeared under the backing.
A locker number.
Ruth said, “Grand Central storage.”
Andrew checked his phone.
“Forty minutes away.”
Roman asked Ruth:
“What’s in locker seventeen?”
“The original ledger.”
Everyone stared.
Mara looked at the veil.
“You said the veil was the ledger.”
“It is the map.”
Ruth touched the embroidery.
“The paper ledger was too dangerous to carry. Sofia created the stitching so the evidence could be reconstructed if the original disappeared.”
Roman’s expression shifted.
“My mother expected to die.”
Ruth looked at him.
“She expected all of us to.”
Silence.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Mara asked.
Ruth looked ashamed.
“Because Vittorio convinced me Roman would become like him.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“And Evelyn?”
“She disagreed.”
Mara felt tears prick her eyes.
Of course Evelyn had.
Her grandmother had arranged everything around one belief.
Roman could choose differently.
Ruth sat.
Her hands shook.
“There’s something else.”
Mara crouched.
“What?”
“You asked who your mother was.”
Mara stopped breathing.
Ruth’s eyes filled.
“Her name was Elena.”
Mara whispered, “Elena Voss?”
“No.”
Ruth looked at Roman.
“Elena DeLuca.”
Roman went completely still.
Mara stared at him.
The warehouse seemed to tilt.
“No.”
Ruth nodded slowly.
“Sofia had a daughter before Roman.”
Roman’s face emptied.
“My sister died as an infant.”
“That’s what Vittorio told you.”
Mara’s voice cracked.
“Elena was my mother?”
“Yes.”
Roman turned away.
He put both hands on his hips.
For once, the most controlled man in the room looked lost.
Mara understood before anyone said it.
“If Elena was your sister…”
Roman turned.
“You’re my niece.”
The words hit harder than Mara expected.
She had spent most of her life thinking she had almost no family.
Now a stranger with a terrifying reputation was looking at her as though the universe had just handed him back part of something stolen.
Andrew whispered, “Evelyn knew.”
Ruth nodded.
“She raised Mara after Elena was killed.”
Mara’s throat closed.
“Killed?”
Ruth looked at her.
“The fire wasn’t an accident.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Her mother’s death.
Her father’s death.
Her grandmother’s secrets.
All of it.
“Who was my father?”
Ruth’s face changed.
“That answer is in locker seventeen.”
Roman’s phone rang.
One of his men.
He answered.
“What?”
His expression sharpened.
“What do you mean?”
He listened.
Then looked at Mara.
Andrew stood.
“What happened?”
Roman ended the call.
“Vittorio is at Grand Central.”
Mara’s pulse spiked.
“Then we go.”
Ruth grabbed her wrist.
“No.”
Mara looked down.
“Why?”
“Because Vittorio doesn’t know what’s in the locker.”
“Then why is he there?”
Ruth’s face went pale.
“He knows who has the other key.”
Roman frowned.
“Other key?”
Ruth stared at Andrew.
Mara followed her gaze.
Andrew looked confused.
Then Ruth said:
“Your father never died.”
Andrew stopped breathing.
Mara stared at him.
Ruth whispered:
“And Vittorio has been keeping him alive for twenty-eight years.”
Andrew’s phone buzzed.
A photo appeared.
An older man sat inside a train-station locker room.
His hands were bound.
Beneath the image were six words.
COME ALONE OR YOUR FATHER DIES.
May you like
Andrew looked at Mara.
Then he ran.
