Chapter 8 - The Engagement Built on a Lie
The entrance was hidden beneath the wine storage room.
Roman had seen it as a child.
He simply hadn't realized it still existed.
Older DeLuca estates had been built with hidden cellars during Prohibition. Most had been sealed decades ago.
The brass key fit a narrow lock behind the lowest wine rack.
A mechanical click echoed.
Claire stood beside Roman.
Gabriel was behind them.
Mrs. Patel had refused to remain upstairs.
“If this house has been hiding secrets under my kitchen for twenty-eight years,” she said, “I intend to see them.”
Roman moved the shelving unit.
Cold air rose from darkness.
Stone steps descended.
Claire looked at him.
“You knew this was here?”
“I knew something was here.”
“That is not reassuring.”
They went down.
The room beneath the carriage house was small.
No wine.
No furniture.
Metal shelving lined the walls.
Most was empty.
Except for three locked document cases.
Roman examined them.
“Northstar.”
Gabriel looked around.
“Why store company files here?”
“Because none of the estate's official records show this room exists.”
Claire stared at Roman.
“Who has access?”
“Apparently my uncle.”
One case opened with the brass key.
Inside were shipping ledgers.
Bank statements.
Loan portfolios.
Roman read silently.
Then handed a page to Daniel, who had joined them.
Daniel went pale.
“What?”
Claire asked.
He looked at Roman.
“This could be enough.”
“For what?”
“To prove Northstar has been moving losses into shell companies while Granite Harbor provides unreported cash flow.”
Claire frowned.
Daniel simplified.
“They're hiding debt.”
“How much?”
He examined another page.
“Four hundred million. Maybe more.”
Mrs. Patel muttered something in Hindi.
Claire understood the sentiment without translation.
Roman found another folder.
Granite Harbor borrowers.
Names.
Addresses.
Payment histories.
Thousands.
Families like Claire's.
People trapped for years.
Some properties had later been acquired by Mercer companies after borrowers defaulted.
“This was intentional,” Claire whispered.
Roman nodded.
“They weren't lending money.”
“They were taking homes.”
“And businesses.”
Claire found her father's name.
BENNETT, THOMAS.
She froze.
Roman noticed.
She opened the file.
Her father's original loan.
Ninety thousand.
Interest schedule.
Internal notes.
One line destroyed her.
TARGET ASSET: BENNETT RESIDENCE / EXPECTED DEFAULT WITHIN 14 MONTHS.
Claire stared.
Their family home.
The house where Lily learned to ride a bike.
Where their mother had planted hydrangeas before she died.
Granite Harbor had expected Claire's father to fail from the beginning.
They hadn't rescued him.
They had hunted him.
Claire's eyes filled.
Roman stood beside her.
“They took the house after Dad died.”
“I know.”
“We thought we failed.”
“You didn't.”
“All these years…”
Her voice broke.
Roman gently took the file.
Claire let him.
For once she didn't fight needing someone beside her.
Then Gabriel spoke.
“Roman.”
He was looking inside the third case.
Photographs.
Contracts.
A draft marriage agreement.
Roman took it.
Attached to the document was a private side letter.
Signed by Victor Mercer.
And Salvatore DeLuca.
Daniel read over his shoulder.
His face tightened.
“What does it say?” Claire asked.
Roman didn't answer immediately.
Finally:
“After the marriage, control of thirty-one percent of DeLuca Logistics would transfer into a joint holding company.”
Claire looked confused.
“Was that part of your agreement?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“My signature was supposed to be obtained on a replacement document.”
Daniel added, “The signature pages were identical.”
Claire stared.
“They were going to trick you.”
Roman's voice was flat.
“Yes.”
“Your uncle knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman kept reading.
Then he found the answer.
Salvatore would receive eight percent ownership of the consolidated company.
Hundreds of millions.
Maybe more.
Roman laughed once.
No humor.
“My father trusted him.”
Claire saw something painful pass through his face.
This wasn't business anymore.
It was family.
She touched his arm.
Roman looked down at her hand.
Neither moved.
Then a sound came from upstairs.
A door closing.
Gabriel raised his head.
“Someone's here.”
Roman immediately placed Claire behind him.
Footsteps crossed the carriage house.
Slow.
deliberate.
Gabriel reached for his weapon but Roman signaled no.
A voice called from above.
“Roman?”
Vivian.
Claire's blood went cold.
Roman whispered, “Stay here.”
He climbed the stairs.
Vivian stood in the wine room wearing a white winter coat.
She looked around.
Then noticed the moved shelving.
Her face changed.
“You found it.”
Roman emerged fully.
“You knew.”
“Roman, listen to me.”
“How long?”
She glanced toward the stairs.
“Is Claire down there?”
“Answer.”
Vivian's eyes hardened.
“This was supposed to protect both families.”
“You tried to steal my company.”
“My father was trying to save Northstar.”
“With my money.”
“With our future.”
“There is no our future.”
Something inside Vivian snapped.
“You think she's going to give you one?”
Roman went still.
“This is about Claire again?”
“It has always been about Claire.”
“No. It's about fraud.”
Vivian laughed bitterly.
“You've barely looked at me in two years. Then she walks through a room carrying coffee and suddenly you know what color dress the staff wears.”
Roman said nothing.
“You watched her at dinner. You knew when she was missing. You crossed a blizzard yourself instead of sending security.”
“She was dying.”
“And you cared.”
The accusation was almost childish.
Roman stared.
“Yes.”
Vivian's expression broke for a fraction of a second.
Then hardened again.
“She was supposed to be questioned.”
“In a blizzard?”
“Damian was supposed to bring her to the house.”
“He chased her.”
“He panicked.”
“She nearly died.”
“I didn't tell him to kill her!”
The words echoed.
Silence.
Vivian realized.
Claire had stepped onto the stairs.
She had heard everything.
So had Daniel.
Gabriel.
Mrs. Patel.
Roman looked at Vivian.
“Thank you.”
Her face went white.
“For what?”
“For admitting Damian was there on your orders.”
Vivian backed toward the door.
“You cannot prove this.”
Roman lifted his phone.
Recording.
“I can now.”
Vivian stared.
Roman had finally obtained what he needed.
But before he could call anyone, headlights swept across the carriage-house windows.
Three vehicles entered the yard.
Gabriel looked outside.
His expression changed.
“Roman.”
“Who?”
“Salvatore.”
Claire's stomach dropped.
Gabriel looked again.
“And Victor Mercer.”
Roman put the phone in his pocket.
The conspirators had realized their secret room was open.
May you like
And they had come to close it.
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