Chapter 3 - Roman Discovered That the Woman He Wanted Was Connected to the One Enemy He Had Sworn to DestroyEdward Carmichael had been dead for twelve years.
But his fingerprints were suddenly everywhere.
Old bank records.
Repair invoices.
Storage units.
A shipping company.
A private garage on the outskirts of New Jersey.
Roman spent two days tracing the man's history.
The deeper he dug, the stranger it became.
Edward had not been a simple mechanic.
He had been a trusted driver and fixer for Roman's father.
He had transported cash.
Moved vehicles.
Delivered sealed packages.
And then, twelve years earlier, he had disappeared.
Three months later he was dead.
Roman looked at the timeline.
The dates matched.
His father's final business war.
A missing ledger.
A burned warehouse.
And the disappearance of a woman named Elena Carmichael.
Khloe's mother.
Roman stopped.
He looked at the photograph.
The young woman standing beside Edward was Elena.
But beside her stood another man.
Roman recognized him immediately.
His uncle.
Victor Gallagher.
Dead for seven years.
Roman whispered:
“What were you doing with them?”
The answer came from behind him.
“Trying to save them.”
Roman turned.
His mother stood in the doorway.
Sophia Gallagher.
One of the only people in the world capable of making Roman feel like a child.
“What do you know?”
She entered slowly.
“More than you.”
“Then tell me.”
She sat.
“Edward found out your father was laundering money through legitimate businesses.”
Roman frowned.
“That wasn't possible.”
“It was.”
“Why would Edward steal the ledger?”
“He didn't.”
“Then where did it go?”
Sophia looked toward the hallway.
“To Khloe.”
Roman froze.
“What?”
“Edward hid it with his daughter.”
“She says she doesn't have it.”
“She may not know she has it.”
Roman thought about the photograph.
The wooden box.
The broken watch.
His breathing changed.
Sophia continued:
“Edward knew someone would come looking.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Roman's face hardened.
“He was willing to hurt an eighteen-year-old girl?”
“He was willing to hurt anyone.”
Roman rose.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Because you were nineteen.”
“I was old enough.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You were angry enough to become exactly like him.”
Roman went silent.
“And I couldn't risk that.”
He turned away.
“What happened to Edward?”
Sophia's eyes filled with regret.
“He was killed.”
“By my father?”
“Yes.”
Roman clenched his hands.
“And Khloe's mother?”
“She ran.”
“To where?”
“I don't know.”
Roman looked at the file.
“She's alive.”
Sophia's silence answered him.
“What?”
“She contacted me last year.”
Roman stared.
“Why?”
“To ask whether Khloe was safe.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“She begged me not to.”
Roman's voice became cold.
“Why?”
“Because someone was still looking.”
At that moment, a scream came from downstairs.
Roman ran.
Khloe.
He found her in the kitchen.
A broken window.
A man unconscious on the floor.
And Khloe holding a knife.
Roman rushed to her.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“He came through the window.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked where my father hid the book.”
Roman froze.
“Book?”
Khloe nodded.
“He called it the Red Ledger.”
Roman stared.
“Did you tell him anything?”
“No.”
She looked frightened.
“But Roman…”
“What?”
“He knew my birthday.”
Roman's expression hardened.
“That's enough.”
He pulled her close without thinking.
Khloe stiffened.
Then slowly relaxed.
His hand settled at the back of her head.
“You're safe.”
Her voice was tiny.
“I thought nobody was coming.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“I'll always come.”
Khloe looked up.
The words hung between them.
Neither corrected them.
Neither took them back.
Then Roman's phone rang.
Adrienne.
“Roman.”
“What?”
“We found Oliver.”
“Where?”
“He's at Saint Vincent's Hospital.”
“Why?”
“He's been shot.”
Roman looked at Khloe.
“Who shot him?”
Adrienne's voice dropped.
“Oliver named one person before he lost consciousness.”
“Who?”
“Edward Carmichael.”
Roman's face went blank.
“That can't be.”
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Adrienne replied:
“That's what the police think too.”
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