Chapter 6 - The Truth Roman Never Meant to Tell Me
Roman wanted Vincent stopped immediately.
I wanted Roman to think.
Lily wanted Vincent nowhere near her again.
Sophia, after seeing the security image, wanted to hit him with her handbag.
Of the four plans, Sophia’s was emotionally the most satisfying.
Roman called his security chief.
“Do not detain him.”
I stared.
He raised one finger.
“But follow him.”
That was progress.
Vincent drove south.
One of Roman’s men followed at a distance.
We watched updates from the bakery office.
Lily sat beside me.
Roman stood.
He had been standing for thirty minutes.
“Sit down,” I said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“I am doing nothing.”
“You’re standing like someone about to declare war.”
Sophia nodded.
“She’s right.”
Roman sat.
Lily whispered, “Thank you.”
Roman looked offended by democracy.
At twelve-thirty, Vincent entered a private club downtown.
He carried the box inside.
He left without it.
Roman’s man couldn’t enter without being recognized.
“We wait,” I said.
Roman looked at me.
“I hate that word.”
“I know.”
An hour later Lily fell asleep in the small chair near my office window.
Roman removed his coat and placed it over her.
That simple movement did something uncomfortable to my chest.
He noticed me watching.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You always say nothing when it’s something.”
“Maybe I’m learning from you.”
Sophia had gone home.
For the first time Roman and I were alone except for Lily sleeping nearby.
I poured two coffees.
“It’s one in the morning.”
“You look like you need it.”
“I always look like this.”
“Yes.”
I handed him the cup.
“That was rude.”
“You started our relationship by trying to purchase me.”
“There is no relationship.”
“Good. We agree.”
His eyes held mine.
Something shifted.
I looked away first.
“Tell me the other reason.”
“What?”
“For the fake girlfriend arrangement.”
He was silent too long.
I turned.
“Roman.”
“The family business is changing.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“My father built most of it.”
“Legally?”
“No.”
“Appreciate the honesty.”
“After he died, I inherited obligations I didn’t want.”
“Yet you kept them.”
“Some.”
“Why?”
“If I walked away immediately, the men beneath him would have divided everything.”
“Vincent?”
“Especially Vincent.”
“So you became boss.”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanted power?”
His expression sharpened.
“Because I wanted control over who got hurt.”
I thought about that.
It was a very Roman answer.
Not innocent.
Not completely monstrous.
Just complicated.
“And now?”
“I’ve spent six years moving operations into legitimate businesses.”
“Does Vincent know?”
“He knows enough to hate it.”
“Elena?”
“She supported me.”
“Then why was she afraid?”
Roman looked toward Lily.
“I think she discovered something I missed.”
“Money?”
“More than money.”
“What?”
“Vincent has relationships with people I cut off.”
“What kind of people?”
“The kind Lily will never meet.”
His tone ended that line of questioning.
Not because he wanted secrecy.
Because Lily was ten feet away.
I respected that.
“The girlfriend arrangement?” I reminded him.
Roman rubbed his jaw.
“Sophia’s matchmaking was real.”
“I knew that part.”
“But I also needed someone outside my world at several upcoming events.”
“Why?”
“To reassure certain people.”
I laughed quietly.
“That you’re romantically stable?”
“That I’m not planning to marry into another family.”
I stared.
“You people still do that?”
“Not officially.”
“Oh, good.”
“But alliances are built through perception.”
“So me being your fake girlfriend makes you politically unavailable.”
“Yes.”
“And how does that help Lily?”
His expression changed.
“It gives me an excuse to bring someone around her whom Vincent doesn’t control.”
I stopped smiling.
“Someone you thought Elena trusted.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
I put my coffee down.
“Roman.”
“You have no criminal record.”
“That’s romantic.”
“You own the bakery outright except for a small commercial loan.”
“Less romantic.”
“You volunteered at a women’s shelter for four years.”
My anger vanished into disbelief.
“You had people dig through my life?”
“I needed to know who I was bringing near Lily.”
I stood.
“That does not make it okay.”
“No.”
The immediate answer surprised me.
He continued.
“But I would do it again.”
“Of course you would.”
“If the alternative was risking her safety.”
I paced away.
This was why Roman infuriated me.
He apologized without surrendering the belief that control was love.
“You don’t get to protect people by stealing their choices.”
He looked toward Lily.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I am learning.”
His voice was quiet.
Then his phone rang.
The man following Vincent had news.
The wooden recipe box had been transferred to another man, who drove north.
Toward the harbor.
Roman stood.
“Locker 214.”
I nodded.
He looked at Lily.
Then at me.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“Clare.”
“Police.”
His jaw hardened.
“No.”
“Then an attorney. Investigator. Someone outside your organization.”
“You think I trust Chicago police?”
“All of them? No. Someone? Probably.”
“This is my family.”
“And that attitude is how families end up handling things alone until somebody gets hurt.”
His eyes flashed.
“Do not tell me what gets people hurt.”
The temperature in the room dropped.
I held his gaze.
For the first time, I felt a glimpse of the man everyone else feared.
Roman saw it too.
His expression changed instantly.
He stepped back.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed him.
That frightened me almost as much.
Lily stirred.
We both went quiet.
Roman lowered his voice.
“There is one person.”
“Who?”
“Federal prosecutor named Daniel Price.”
I blinked.
“You know a federal prosecutor?”
“He has been trying to put me in prison for four years.”
“That sounds promising.”
“He’s annoyingly ethical.”
“Even better.”
Roman stared at me.
“You enjoy this too much.”
“I enjoy anyone you can’t intimidate.”
“That list is becoming uncomfortably long.”
He made the call.
Daniel agreed to meet at sunrise.
By six-thirty, we had a plan.
No guns.
No confrontation.
No secret army.
Legal surveillance.
Daniel’s investigators would secure the locker if probable cause could be established from Elena’s documents.
For once, Roman listened.
As dawn brightened the bakery windows, Lily woke.
She saw us.
“Did you find it?”
“Not yet,” Roman said.
She nodded.
Then looked at me.
“You stayed.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
“Of course.”
Lily smiled faintly.
Roman watched us.
And I understood something dangerous.
May you like
I had entered this arrangement to help Lily.
But somewhere between the flour, the recipes and the man who covered his sleeping niece with his own coat, Roman Duca had stopped feeling like a story I could simply walk away from.
