Chapter 13 - What Power Could Never Buy
Sebastian stared at the photograph of his son for so long that no one interrupted him.
“He looks like his mother.”
His voice barely carried.
Alexander sat opposite him.
“You were told he drowned?”
“Yes.”
“Body?”
“Never recovered.”
“Who handled the investigation?”
Sebastian already knew.
“Samuel Rook.”
The room fell silent.
Samuel had not merely stolen money.
He had stolen a child.
Marcus confirmed the truth.
Samuel discovered Sebastian was preparing to expose irregularities in several family accounts. To control him, Samuel arranged Adrian’s disappearance.
The six-year-old boy was moved through private guardianships overseas.
“Why didn’t you tell Lorenzo?” Alexander asked.
“I did.”
Sebastian looked broken.
“He blamed himself. That’s when he started investigating Samuel.”
Everything connected.
Adrian’s disappearance led Lorenzo toward the stolen money.
That investigation led to Lorenzo’s poisoning.
Samuel’s crimes passed to Julian.
And Adrian grew up somewhere inside that machinery.
“What does succession asset mean?” I asked.
Isabella answered.
“Under the original Romano family charter, a direct male descendant of Sebastian could make a claim against certain family-controlled trusts.”
Alexander frowned.
“Those trusts are worth billions.”
“Yes.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“Julian raised Adrian to use him.”
Marcus nodded.
“Probably.”
“Does Adrian know?”
“Nobody knows.”
We found out the next morning.
Adrian called.
Not Julian.
Adrian himself.
Sebastian answered with shaking hands.
“Hello?”
For several seconds there was only silence.
Then a man spoke.
“You sound older.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“Adrian.”
“You remember my name.”
“I never forgot it.”
“You stopped looking.”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I spent twelve years—”
“You replaced me with a company.”
Sebastian flinched.
Alexander reached toward the phone.
Sebastian stopped him.
“This is between us.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“That’s always what Romanos say before making everything everyone’s problem.”
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“With Julian?”
A pause.
“He saved me.”
Marcus shook his head urgently.
Sebastian continued carefully.
“He took you.”
“No.”
“Samuel Rook took you.”
“You’re lying.”
“We have proof.”
“You have money. Money manufactures proof.”
Sebastian’s face crumpled.
“Adrian, please.”
“You don’t get to say my name like you earned it.”
The line went dead.
Sebastian sat motionless.
No one spoke.
Finally Alexander said, “We bring him evidence.”
“How?”
“He won’t meet us.”
“He’ll meet me,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
Alexander immediately said, “No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m suggesting.”
“Still no.”
“Adrian believes every Romano manipulates people.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a Romano.”
“You work for one.”
“I’m also apparently the maid who ruined Julian’s plan.”
Isabella smiled.
“She has a point.”
Alexander glared at his sister.
“You are not helping.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
Marcus believed he could send Adrian a message through an old secure channel Julian used.
Not from Sebastian.
From me.
I wrote only:
Your father cried when he saw your photograph. I don’t know if that matters to you, but I thought someone should tell you the truth without asking you for anything. — Clara Hayes
We waited.
Three hours.
Nothing.
Then a reply.
Why do you care?
I answered.
Because somebody almost killed a man I care about using lies that began before either of us understood them. I’m tired of lies.
Another hour.
You love Alexander Romano?
My face turned red.
Isabella leaned over my shoulder.
“Oh, this is excellent.”
“Go away.”
Alexander appeared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Isabella grinned.
“Clara is negotiating with your cousin using emotional honesty.”
Alexander looked suspicious.
“What did you write?”
“Private.”
“You’re using my family’s encrypted network.”
“Still private.”
The next message arrived.
Meet me. Alone.
Alexander read it.
“No.”
I crossed my arms.
“Stop doing that.”
“No.”
“Adrian won’t trust you.”
“I’m not asking him to.”
“He might give us Julian.”
“He might kill you.”
“He’s never hurt anyone.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No. But neither do you.”
Alexander looked furious.
Then scared.
The fear changed everything.
“You’re not expendable,” he said.
I softened.
“Neither were you when you walked into that ferry terminal.”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
He had no answer.
Finally we compromised.
I would meet Adrian in a public café.
Vincent would remain nearby.
No weapons visible.
No Romano family members.
Adrian arrived twenty minutes late.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Sebastian’s eyes.
Alexander’s guarded expression.
He sat across from me.
“You don’t look like a criminal.”
“Neither do you.”
“Maybe we’re both disappointing.”
I slid copies of Lorenzo’s evidence toward him.
He didn’t touch them.
“Julian says you’re manipulating my father.”
“Julian nearly killed Alexander.”
“So you say.”
I showed him the pharmacy records.
The archive.
The guardianship payments.
One document contained Samuel Rook’s signature authorizing Adrian’s placement under a false name.
Adrian’s face changed.
“No.”
“There’s more.”
“I said no.”
He stood.
I did not stop him.
Instead I said, “Your father kept your bedroom.”
Adrian froze.
“He never changed it.”
“How would you know?”
“I clean the west wing.”
He slowly looked back.
“There’s still a wooden sailboat on the shelf. Red hull. One mast broken.”
Adrian’s face lost all color.
“He made that with me.”
“Then maybe go ask him why he kept it for twenty-three years.”
Adrian left.
That night Sebastian sat alone in the old nursery.
At eleven forty, the door opened.
Adrian stood there.
Neither moved.
Then Sebastian whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Adrian’s face crumpled.
For twenty-three years, both men had believed the other had abandoned them.
They crossed the room.
And embraced.
But outside the window, across the dark lawn, a camera lens caught the entire reunion.
Julian Rook had found Adrian too.
And he was no longer interested in controlling him.
May you like
He wanted him dead.
---
