Chapter 6 - The Truth About Claire’s Last Night
Federal agents filled the baggage corridor.
Daniel Mercer was dragged away in handcuffs.
His men surrendered one by one.
None of it mattered to Roman.
Not yet.
He stood ten feet from his younger brother, holding Claire’s final envelope.
Before you forgive your brother, ask him where he was the night I died.
Roman looked at Adrian.
“Where were you?”
Adrian glanced at Josephine.
Then at the federal agents.
“Not here.”
Roman almost laughed.
“Everyone keeps saying that tonight.”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Because this isn’t something Oliver and Finn should hear.”
That changed Roman’s anger.
Not erased it.
Changed it.
The boys were still at the mansion under guard.
They returned before dawn.
Mercer’s arrest had triggered raids on three Blackridge properties.
The evidence transmitted from locker 214 went to a federal prosecutor Claire had secretly contacted years earlier.
The files contained payments, surveillance logs and internal communications proving Mercer had orchestrated the attack on Claire.
But one mystery remained.
Adrian.
Roman waited in the hidden room behind Claire’s portrait.
Josephine sat across from him.
Adrian stood near the desk.
“Talk,” Roman said.
Adrian took a long breath.
“The night Claire died, she called me.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“She knew I was working with Mercer.”
Josephine stared.
“You were already helping him?”
“Yes.”
Roman’s expression went blank.
Adrian continued quickly.
“I didn’t know he planned to kill her.”
“That sentence is supposed to help you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Adrian looked down.
“I was angry. At Dad. At you. At the family.”
“So you sold information.”
“At first.”
Roman stood.
Josephine watched him carefully.
Adrian did not move away.
“What information?”
“Meetings. Business routes. Security changes.”
Roman looked sick.
“You were the leak.”
“Yes.”
Claire’s video had said the traitor was someone closer.
Not Vincent.
Adrian.
Roman turned away.
His brother’s voice continued.
“When Claire discovered the pattern, she confronted me.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she wouldn’t tell you if I helped her expose Mercer.”
Roman turned.
“Claire protected you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian’s eyes filled.
“She said because I was family.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Of course she did.
That was Claire.
Mercer had used Adrian’s anger to penetrate Roman’s organization.
But Claire had believed he could still be saved.
“The night she died,” Adrian said, “she called and told me Mercer was moving against her.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to warn him off.”
Roman’s voice became cold.
“You called Mercer.”
“Yes.”
“You told him Claire knew.”
Adrian shook his head.
“He already knew.”
“How?”
“I never found out.”
Josephine spoke.
“My reports.”
Both men looked at her.
“Mercer knew Claire had changed procedures because of me.”
Adrian nodded.
“He told me the operation was just to recover evidence.”
Roman stepped closer.
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
Adrian swallowed.
“I followed them.”
The room went still.
Roman could hear rainwater dripping outside.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“When Claire died.”
“Yes.”
Roman’s fist hit Adrian before either man fully processed the movement.
Adrian crashed against the desk.
Josephine stood.
“Roman.”
“Stay out of this.”
Adrian wiped blood from his mouth.
“I deserve that.”
Roman hit him again.
Adrian did not fight back.
“You were there!”
“Yes.”
“You let me bury her thinking I failed her!”
“I tried to save her!”
Roman stopped.
Adrian’s voice broke.
“The first car hit hers. Mercer’s men surrounded it. I got there before the shooting stopped.”
Roman could barely breathe.
“Was she alive?”
Adrian nodded.
Roman’s knees almost failed.
“For how long?”
“Minutes.”
“What did she say?”
Adrian looked at him.
“She asked about the boys.”
Roman turned away.
His eyes closed.
“She knew she was dying,” Adrian continued. “She made me promise Oliver and Finn would never know what happened.”
“What else?”
“She gave me something.”
Roman faced him.
Adrian reached into his pocket.
A small silver ring.
Claire’s wedding band.
Roman stared.
“The hospital told me it was lost.”
“She gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“She said I should return it when I finally told you the truth.”
Roman took the ring.
Four years.
His wife’s ring had been sitting in Adrian’s possession for four years.
“What were her last words?”
Adrian’s face crumpled.
“She said, ‘Tell Roman I chose him without regret.’”
Roman sat down.
No one spoke.
The feared billionaire mafia boss lowered his head and cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
The way men cry when they have spent years believing grief is something they must defeat.
Josephine turned away.
Adrian did too.
After a long time, Roman wiped his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was a coward.”
Adrian did not excuse it.
“I helped Mercer before I understood what he really was. Claire died trying to undo something I helped start.”
Josephine looked at him.
“So you spent four years pretending to keep working with Mercer.”
“Yes.”
“To find Claire’s evidence?”
“And destroy his network.”
Roman studied his brother.
“You could have come to me.”
“I thought you’d kill me.”
Roman’s silence was answer enough.
Adrian smiled sadly.
“I wasn’t completely wrong.”
Before Roman could respond, footsteps came from the hidden doorway.
Oliver stood there.
Roman rose.
“What are you doing awake?”
“I heard you.”
“How much?”
Oliver hesitated.
“Mom.”
Roman’s heart sank.
Oliver walked closer.
“Uncle Adrian was there when Mom died?”
Adrian turned pale.
Roman crouched.
“Yes.”
“Did Uncle Adrian kill her?”
“No.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Roman continued.
“He made mistakes that helped a bad man get close to us.”
Oliver looked at Adrian.
“Really bad mistakes?”
“Yes.”
Adrian whispered, “Really bad.”
Oliver thought about it.
Children sometimes approached impossible truths more simply than adults.
“Are you sorry?”
Adrian nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell Dad?”
“I was scared.”
Oliver looked at Roman.
“Dad gets scary.”
Josephine covered a laugh with a cough.
Even Roman almost smiled.
Oliver looked at Adrian again.
“Mom always said being scared doesn’t mean you can lie.”
Adrian’s eyes filled.
“She was right.”
Oliver nodded.
Then he turned to Roman.
“Are you going to hurt him?”
Roman looked at his son.
For decades, violence had been the easiest language available to him.
Claire had asked him to raise their sons differently.
Kind.
Not feared.
Kind.
“No.”
Adrian looked up sharply.
Roman continued.
“That doesn’t mean everything is forgiven.”
Oliver nodded seriously.
“Okay.”
He walked back toward the bedroom.
Then stopped.
“Jo?”
“Yes?”
“You’re staying, right?”
Josephine froze.
Roman looked at her.
She had spent years hiding.
Running.
Carrying guilt.
Her purpose had been to protect Claire’s children and expose Mercer.
Mercer was gone.
The truth was found.
Technically, she had no reason to remain.
Josephine looked at Oliver.
“I don’t know.”
His face fell.
Roman felt something unexpected twist in his chest.
Later that morning, Josephine packed a suitcase.
Roman found her in the guest room.
“You’re leaving.”
She folded a sweater.
“My job is finished.”
“Your job?”
“The reason I came.”
Roman leaned against the door.
“My sons think differently.”
“That makes it harder.”
“And what do you think?”
Josephine stopped folding.
“I think I lied to you.”
“You did.”
“I entered your home under false pretenses.”
“Yes.”
“I brought danger closer.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You didn’t bring Mercer,” Roman said. “He was already here.”
Josephine’s eyes lowered.
“I still failed Claire.”
Roman took her hand.
It was the first time he had touched her without fear, emergency, or violence between them.
“Claire disagreed.”
Josephine looked at him.
Roman placed his wife’s wedding ring into her palm temporarily, then closed her fingers around it.
“She trusted you with my sons.”
Josephine cried.
Roman waited.
After a moment, she whispered, “I don’t know how to stop running.”
“Stay long enough to learn.”
Their eyes met.
Something new passed between them.
Not obligation.
Not grief.
Possibility.
Josephine almost answered.
Then Roman’s phone rang.
Vincent.
Roman answered.
His face changed immediately.
“What?”
Josephine straightened.
Roman listened.
“Are you certain?”
Pause.
“When?”
He lowered the phone.
“What happened?” Josephine asked.
Roman looked toward the window.
“Mercer escaped federal custody.”
Josephine went pale.
“How?”
Roman’s expression became deadly.
“He didn’t escape alone.”
The final surveillance image had captured the person who opened Mercer’s transport vehicle.
Josephine looked at the photograph.
Then slowly sat down.
Because the woman standing beside Daniel Mercer was someone everyone believed had died four years ago.
May you like
A woman with Claire DeLuca’s face.
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