Chapter 9 - What Silas Forgot About NellThe tracker stopped at 11:37 p.m.
An old Mercer estate outside Palm Beach.
Of course.
My grandfather had built it in 1968.
Silas had spent his childhood there.
So had my father.
The property contained forty acres, two guesthouses, private docks, and enough forgotten tunnels from the Prohibition era to make a police search nearly useless.
But Silas had forgotten something.
Nell knew the house.
Years earlier, before our marriage collapsed, she had spent an entire summer helping my mother catalogue Mercer family archives.
She knew the old service passages better than I did.
“There are three ways into the west wing,” she said.
“No.”
She glared at me.
“Roman.”
“You're not going inside.”
“June is inside.”
“So am I.”
“That sentence doesn't make sense.”
“It does to me.”
She stared.
For once, I didn't bend.
“Your ribs are cracked. Your leg is broken. Silas wants you alive only long enough to sign paperwork. You stay with Gus.”
“You're doing it again.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are.”
I stepped closer.
“No, Nell. I'm not deciding what you are capable of. I'm asking the mother of my daughter not to walk into a building containing armed men while physically injured.”
Her anger faltered.
“This isn't control.”
I touched her hand.
“It's fear.”
That changed everything.
Nell looked down.
Then nodded.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“Open line the entire time.”
“Done.”
“And you follow my directions inside that house.”
I sighed.
“Done.”
“Don't sound so miserable.”
“I've had an unusually difficult week.”
At 11:58 p.m., I walked into the Mercer estate alone.
At least, that was what Silas believed.
The transfer documents were inside my jacket.
Signed.
Worthless.
Malcolm had prepared them to trigger an automatic fraud flag the moment Silas attempted to register them.
More importantly, Nell had sent every piece of evidence we collected to federal prosecutors through her attorney's office before Sarah betrayed us.
Silas believed he was fighting me.
He was actually fighting a woman he'd dismissed as irrelevant.
That was his final mistake.
I found him in my grandfather's old study.
June was asleep in a portable crib.
Seeing her nearly brought me to my knees.
Silas sat beside the fireplace.
Sarah stood near the window.
Victor Salazar guarded the door.
“You came.”
I looked at June.
“Let me hold her.”
“Documents first.”
I removed them.
Silas reviewed each page.
“Public statement?”
“After June is in my arms.”
He smiled.
“You still negotiate like your father.”
“No.”
I looked at my daughter.
“I don't.”
He signed the final page.
Then pushed June's crib toward me.
I lifted her.
Everything inside me came back to life.
June stirred.
Her eyes opened.
That little frown appeared.
Then she grabbed my shirt.
“Hey, bug.”
My voice broke.
“Daddy's here.”
Silas laughed.
“Enjoy the sentiment.”
I looked at him.
“You never understood my father either.”
His smile faded.
“You thought every Mercer man values power above family.”
“Most do.”
“I did.”
Past tense.
Silas heard it.
“What changed?”
I kissed June's hair.
“She did.”
Then Nell's voice came through the hidden earpiece.
“Roman, west corridor. Movement.”
I shifted.
Too late.
Victor raised his weapon.
Gus appeared behind him.
Chaos exploded.
Sarah screamed.
Silas reached toward the desk.
I moved June against my chest and dropped behind the heavy leather sofa.
“Roman!”
Nell's voice.
“I have her.”
Security flooded the west corridor.
Not Silas's.
Mine.
And behind them came federal agents.
Silas stared at the doorway.
For the first time in my life, my uncle looked afraid.
“What did you do?”
“I didn't.”
I stood slowly, June protected against my chest.
“Nell did.”
His face changed.
The woman he'd called irrelevant.
The woman he'd expected to die in a crashed car.
The woman whose signature he thought he could force onto guardianship paperwork.
She had destroyed him.
Silas lunged toward the desk.
An agent stopped him.
Within seconds, he was on the floor.
Handcuffed.
Sarah began talking immediately.
Victor tried to escape through the east hallway.
Gus caught him before he reached the stairs.
I didn't care.
I only cared about the tiny person in my arms.
June had begun crying.
“I know.”
I rocked her.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Then Nell appeared in the doorway.
Gus had brought her inside once the building was secure.
Her crutches hit the hardwood.
Once.
Twice.
Then she saw June.
She dropped one crutch.
I crossed the room.
Nell reached for our daughter.
June practically launched herself toward her mother.
Nell buried her face against her.
“Oh, baby.”
Her body shook.
“Mommy's here.”
I wrapped one arm around both of them.
Nell didn't push me away.
For several seconds, the three of us stood inside the room where generations of Mercer men had decided what power meant.
Silas watched from the floor.
He looked at me.
“You're giving up an empire for them.”
I looked down at Nell and June.
“No.”
I finally understood.
“This is the first thing I've ever chosen that matters more than one.”
Agents took Silas away.
Nell continued holding June.
Then she looked up at me.
“There is something I need to know.”
“Anything.”
“If none of this had happened…”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“If you hadn't gotten that phone call, would we ever have known the truth?”
The question cut through every victory.
I could have lied.
I didn't.
“I don't know.”
Nell nodded.
That answer hurt her.
But it was true.
“I spent fifteen months thinking losing you was the price of keeping you alive.”
I swallowed.
“And you spent fifteen months thinking I had abandoned you and June.”
“Yes.”
“I can't give those months back.”
“No.”
“I can't ask you to forget them.”
“No.”
I reached toward her face but stopped before touching her.
“So I'm not asking you for anything.”
Nell stared at me.
“Not forgiveness. Not marriage. Nothing.”
June reached toward me.
I took her tiny hand.
“The only thing I want is the chance to be her father.”
Nell's face broke.
Not from anger this time.
She stepped forward and rested her forehead against mine.
May you like
“You already are.”
For a man who had spent his life believing power meant never allowing anyone to bring him to his knees, four words finally did.
