Chapter 4 - The Secret Beneath the Painting
"You knew my mother."
Gemma's voice sounded empty.
Roman stared at the photograph.
"I met her."
"That's not what this says."
Gemma held it up.
"My mother trusted you enough to take a photograph with you and my father."
Roman looked away.
"Talk."
They stood inside the church while Dominic's men searched the surrounding buildings.
Antonio's body had been covered.
Gemma refused to leave until Roman answered.
"Your father contacted me six years ago," Roman said.
"Before Mom died?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He believed someone inside my organization had discovered Elena's location."
Gemma's face hardened.
"And you did nothing?"
"I moved her."
"What?"
"Your mother didn't die in Pennsylvania."
Gemma stared.
Roman continued carefully.
"The accident was staged."
Hope appeared so quickly in Gemma's eyes that Roman hated what he had to say next.
"Then she's alive?"
Roman closed his eyes briefly.
"No."
The hope disappeared.
"She survived another eight months."
Gemma slapped him.
The sound echoed through the church.
Roman didn't move.
"You knew."
"Yes."
"You knew my mother was alive while I buried an empty coffin."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Elena made me promise."
Gemma struck his chest.
"You had no right!"
Again.
"You had no right!"
Roman let her hit him.
When her strength finally failed, Gemma stood trembling.
"Why would she do that?"
Roman reached inside his jacket.
He removed a small envelope.
"I've carried this for six years."
Gemma stared.
Her name was written across it.
In her mother's handwriting.
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
"Because she told me not to unless Antonio returned."
Gemma opened it.
The letter was short.
Gemma,
If you are reading this, your father has come back, which means the truth has finally found you.
Roman Costa is dangerous. Never forget that.
But he is not the man who destroyed our family.
When everyone else abandoned us, Roman gave me eight months I would not otherwise have had.
I used those months to make sure you could someday live free of the Bellini and Costa names.
Trust your instincts.
Not your fear.
Mom.
Gemma cried silently.
Roman stood several feet away.
He did not touch her.
Eventually Gemma folded the letter.
"Take me to the painting."
They returned to the gallery before sunrise.
The centerpiece restoration sat under protective lighting.
A seventeenth-century portrait of a woman beside a lake.
Gemma had spent three weeks repairing it.
Now she understood why she had been hired.
Someone had arranged it.
Her father.
Gemma used the brass key.
It opened a tiny lock hidden inside the antique frame.
Roman watched.
Gemma removed the backing.
Behind the original canvas was another layer.
Not a ledger.
Microfilm.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Names.
Dominic arrived.
He looked at the evidence.
"Holy hell."
Roman examined one photograph.
His face changed.
"What?"
Dominic took it.
The photograph showed Vittorio Costa meeting several men.
One was recognizable.
Vincent Moretti.
Roman's uncle.
His mother's brother.
And Roman's current consigliere.
The man who had helped Roman run the Costa organization for ten years.
Dominic swore.
"Vincent."
Roman understood immediately.
Vincent had known about Antonio.
Vincent had ordered the shooting.
And Vincent had been inside Roman's organization the entire time.
Roman reached for his phone.
It rang first.
Vincent.
Roman answered.
"Uncle."
Vincent laughed.
"So you found it."
Roman looked at Gemma.
"Where are you?"
"Close enough."
Roman's eyes moved toward the gallery windows.
"Antonio was always sentimental," Vincent continued. "Hiding everything inside a painting his daughter would eventually restore."
"You killed him."
"Yes."
Gemma heard.
Her face hardened.
"And Elena?" Roman asked.
Pause.
Then Vincent laughed softly.
"Your father ordered it. I merely made sure the order was followed."
Roman's hand tightened.
"You're dead."
"Eventually."
Vincent sounded amused.
"But before that happens, you should ask yourself something."
"What?"
"Why did Antonio come back now?"
Roman looked at the evidence.
Vincent continued.
"Because someone is buying your organization from underneath you."
The call ended.
Dominic checked his phone.
Then another.
His face changed.
"Roman."
"What?"
"Three warehouses were hit."
Another message.
"The docks too."
Another.
"Jesus."
Roman understood.
Vincent had been preparing a coup.
For years.
Gemma looked at Roman.
"What happens now?"
Roman loaded his pistol.
"War."
The next forty-eight hours changed New York's criminal landscape.
Businesses switched loyalty.
Money disappeared.
Men Roman trusted stopped answering calls.
Two were found dead.
One vanished.
Roman barely slept.
Gemma remained at his penthouse under guard.
On the third night, she found Roman alone on the balcony.
Snow had begun falling.
"You'll freeze."
"I'm fine."
Gemma stood beside him.
For several moments neither spoke.
Then she said, "My mother trusted you."
Roman looked toward the city.
"She shouldn't have."
"Why?"
"Because everyone close to me eventually pays for it."
Gemma studied him.
"Is that why you live alone?"
Roman smiled without humor.
"Partly."
"And the other part?"
"I don't know how to be anything except what I am."
Gemma moved closer.
"What are you?"
Roman looked at her.
"A man you should stay away from."
"You're doing a terrible job of making that happen."
Their faces were inches apart.
Roman could have kissed her.
He wanted to.
Instead he stepped backward.
Gemma looked hurt.
Then an explosion shook the building.
The windows rattled.
Alarms screamed.
Roman grabbed Gemma.
"Inside."
Smoke filled the hallway.
Dominic appeared.
"Garage bomb!"
Roman pulled Gemma toward the secure room.
Then the lights died.
Emergency lighting activated.
Roman stopped.
The penthouse security door was already open.
Impossible.
Only three people knew the code.
Roman.
Dominic.
And—
Roman slowly turned.
Dominic stood behind him.
Gun raised.
Gemma stopped breathing.
Roman stared at the man who had been beside him since childhood.
"Dominic?"
Dominic's eyes were filled with something that looked almost like regret.
"I'm sorry, brother."
May you like
Then he pointed the gun directly at Roman's heart.
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