Chapter 6 - The Betrayal That Broke the Romano Family
Three days after Vincent's phone call, Richard Vale was arrested.
I learned about it while eating breakfast with Nadine in the small apartment she had borrowed from her sister.
The television was on.
A reporter stood outside our former restaurant.
Behind her, police officers moved through the glass entrance carrying evidence boxes.
A photograph of Richard appeared on the screen.
RESTAURANT MANAGER ARRESTED AMID ROMANO POISONING INVESTIGATION.
I dropped my spoon.
“Nadine.”
She looked up.
Then she screamed.
Not because she was frightened.
Because for the first time since we'd been fired, the man who had ruined our livelihoods was facing consequences.
“Oh my God,” she said. “They got him.”
I leaned forward.
The reporter explained that Richard was facing allegations related to witness intimidation, false statements, and obstruction connected to the poisoning investigation.
Further charges remained possible.
The exact details were limited.
But the investigation had finally moved beyond rumors.
My phone rang immediately.
Rebecca Chen.
“Chloe, have you seen the news?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Don't discuss the case publicly. We're also filing additional documents in your employment matter.”
“Did Richard confess?”
“I'm not involved in the criminal interviews, so I can't tell you that. But investigators have gathered evidence beyond your testimony.”
I looked at Nadine.
She was crying.
For two years, we'd worked late shifts under a man who treated us as disposable.
He'd screamed at employees.
Threatened to withhold tips.
Humiliated people for mistakes.
And when I had done the most basic decent thing a human being could do, he'd destroyed my career.
Now he was being led through a restaurant doorway in handcuffs.
It didn't give me my job back.
It didn't erase the fear.
But it proved that power had limits.
At least sometimes.
Later that afternoon, Detective Reyes met with me.
She explained that Richard had obtained legal counsel and was cooperating in a limited way.
Investigators had uncovered financial connections between him and a consulting business linked to Vincent Romano.
The payments had begun several months before Dominic's poisoning.
“What were they for?” I asked.
“That is part of what we're investigating.”
“Was Richard paid to kill him?”
Reyes gave me a careful look.
“We have evidence that Richard helped control access to Dominic's table and later tried to interfere with witnesses. We're still establishing his role in the poisoning itself.”
I nodded.
“Did he tell Vincent about me?”
“He admitted transmitting your employment information and photograph to an intermediary after the incident.”
My stomach twisted.
“So he gave them my address.”
“He had access to your employee records, and investigators are examining how that information was shared.”
I stared at the table.
The address I'd written on a job application.
The emergency contact I'd provided.
The personal details employers were supposed to protect.
Richard had treated them like information he owned.
And someone had used them to find me.
“Will I ever be able to go home?” I whispered.
Reyes's expression softened.
“I hope so. But until we understand the full network involved, I want you to remain cautious.”
I nodded.
Then she said, “There's something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Richard claims he wasn't told the full purpose of the arrangement. He says he believed there would be a staged medical incident used to remove Dominic from a business negotiation.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It's his account. Not necessarily the truth.”
“He watched Dominic turn blue.”
“Yes.”
“He grabbed me when I called for an ambulance.”
“Yes.”
“He told me to shut up.”
Reyes nodded.
I felt my anger rising.
“He could see the man was dying.”
Reyes held my gaze.
“Whatever he believed beforehand, his actions afterward matter.”
I looked away.
Richard could claim he hadn't known.
He could blame somebody else.
He could tell himself he was only following instructions.
But I had been there.
I'd seen the choice he made.
And I knew the difference between being frightened and deciding another human being wasn't worth saving.
That evening, Dominic asked to see me.
I agreed to meet him at his attorney's office.
This time, I brought Nadine.
Dominic looked surprised when we walked in together.
Nadine crossed her arms.
“So you're the famous Dominic Romano.”
He inclined his head.
“And you're Nadine Brooks.”
“That's right.”
“I understand you helped preserve evidence from the restaurant.”
“I also lost my job.”
His expression became serious.
“I know.”
She looked him up and down.
“Good. Then you understand why I'm not impressed by expensive suits.”
For the first time, I saw Marcus grin openly.
Dominic didn't seem offended.
“Fair enough.”
Nadine pointed at him.
“And if you hurt Chloe, I don't care how many bodyguards you have.”
“Nadine!” I whispered.
Dominic glanced at me.
Then back at her.
“I appreciate that she has someone willing to say that.”
I couldn't decide whether to laugh or disappear beneath the floor.
Once Nadine was seated, Dominic placed a folder on the conference table.
“I asked to meet because I've made some changes.”
I remained standing.
“What kind?”
“Anthony Bellini has been suspended from all my companies. His access to financial systems has been terminated under supervision, and relevant records have been preserved for investigators.”
My heart jumped.
“And Vincent?”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“I've removed his authority over Romano Maritime contracts and revoked his signing privileges wherever I had the legal power to do so.”
“Can you do that?”
“In the businesses I control, yes. Other companies will require action by their own directors or courts.”
I sat down.
“Did he threaten you?”
Dominic gave a humorless smile.
“Several times.”
“What did he say?”
“He said I was destroying the family.”
“And what did you say?”
“That he was confusing the family with his bank accounts.”
Nadine let out a startled laugh.
I almost smiled.
Then Dominic's expression darkened.
“Vincent believes loyalty means protecting him from consequences. My father taught him that.”
I looked up.
“Your father?”
Dominic nodded.
“My father built the first Romano businesses. Some were legitimate. Some weren't. Vincent grew up believing every rule existed for someone else.”
“And you didn't?”
He looked directly at me.
“For a long time, I believed too much of it.”
I appreciated that he didn't pretend otherwise.
“My mother tried to change things after she married my father,” he continued. “She started the medical foundation because she knew what it was like to grow up poor.”
He looked toward the window.
“She was a nursing assistant before she married him. She watched patients go without medication because they couldn't afford it.”
I listened.
“She told me money wasn't valuable unless it could improve someone's life.”
My throat tightened.
“My mother used to say something similar.”
Dominic nodded.
“After my mother died, I kept the foundation operating. But I let other people manage it. I thought providing the money was enough.”
“And it wasn't.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I spent years making sure people feared my name. I never bothered to ask whether people trusted it.”
For a moment, the room became very quiet.
Then Nadine asked, “Why are you telling us this?”
Dominic turned toward her.
“Because Chloe deserves to understand the kind of man she's dealing with.”
Nadine studied him.
“That's a beginning.”
He nodded.
“That's all I'm claiming.”
I looked at the folder.
“What happens now?”
“Investigators will continue tracing the money. The outside audit is preserving the corporate records. And I'm cooperating through counsel with the government.”
“Even if you have to admit things you've done?”
“Yes.”
There it was again.
A promise.
But now it had begun to cost him something.
His cousin.
His chief financial officer.
His reputation.
Possibly his freedom.
I didn't know what our relationship was becoming.
But I knew it could never survive another lie.
After the meeting, Dominic walked me toward the elevator.
Nadine was speaking with Marcus at the other end of the hallway.
“Chloe?”
I turned.
“Yes?”
“I'm glad you brought your friend.”
I smiled faintly.
“She doesn't trust you.”
“She has good instincts.”
I looked at him.
“Neither do I. Not completely.”
“I know.”
I hesitated.
“Do you miss your mother?”
His expression softened.
“Every day.”
“Me too.”
For a moment, we simply stood there.
Two people from completely different worlds.
Connected by grief.
And by a crime neither of us had understood until it was nearly too late.
Then Dominic said something unexpected.
“My mother once told me that if I ever found a woman who argued with me because she believed I could do better, I should listen.”
I looked away.
“Don't make this romantic.”
His mouth curved.
“You've said that before.”
“Because you keep trying.”
“I haven't tried nearly as hard as you think.”
My face warmed.
Before I could answer, the elevator doors opened.
Nadine appeared beside me.
“Come on, Chloe. We have an appointment.”
I blinked.
“We do?”
“Yes. With a real estate agent. We're finding you an apartment that doesn't have criminals trying to break down the door.”
Dominic looked toward Marcus.
Marcus suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Did you arrange this?”
Dominic raised both hands.
“Not the appointment.”
Nadine grinned.
“I did. And Rebecca found a tenant-assistance program that may help cover the moving costs.”
I stared at her.
“You did all that?”
“Obviously.”
My throat tightened.
Nadine linked her arm through mine.
“Come on. We have a life to rebuild.”
As we entered the elevator, I looked back.
Dominic was watching me.
Not possessively.
Not like I belonged to him.
But like he was grateful I was still alive.
For some reason, that expression stayed with me all evening.
The next morning, everything changed again.
Agent Ward called shortly after seven.
“Chloe, I need you to come in.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did something happen?”
“We've identified an important connection in the electronic records your mother preserved.”
“Between Vincent and the foundation?”
“Yes. But there's another issue.”
“What?”
Ward paused.
“We found evidence that money from the foundation was transferred through businesses associated with Dominic's organization.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know his companies were involved.”
“This goes beyond ordinary subcontracting. Some transactions appear to have financed operations that may have violated federal law.”
My heart began pounding.
“Does Dominic know?”
“His counsel has been informed of the relevant inquiry.”
I swallowed.
“Is he going to be arrested?”
“I can't discuss potential charges.”
I stared at the floor.
Then Ward said, “There's a possibility his organization benefited from the fraud even if he wasn't aware of the original diversion.”
I felt sick.
Dominic had promised to tell the truth.
But what if the truth meant he had profited from stolen medical funds?
What if he was so deeply involved in his family's businesses that he couldn't separate himself from the crime?
I had barely slept.
Now I couldn't breathe.
Ward's voice softened.
“Chloe, I need you to remember that the investigation is about evidence, not personal loyalties.”
“I know.”
“Your mother documented what she believed was wrong even when it endangered her.”
I swallowed hard.
“I know.”
“And what you do with your own testimony has to be your decision.”
After the call, I sat on the bed for a long time.
Then I opened my mother's letter.
I read the final paragraph again.
Live, sweetheart.
Don't spend your whole life fighting ghosts.
I wondered what she would say if she could see me now.
I was twenty-six.
Unemployed.
Living temporarily in borrowed rooms.
Caught between a federal investigation and a mafia family that had already tried to silence me.
And somewhere along the way, I'd started caring about a man who might be part of the very corruption my mother had tried to expose.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
“Mom, what am I supposed to do?”
The room was silent.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Dominic.
I need to tell you something before you hear it from anyone else.
Another message appeared.
Federal investigators are reviewing transactions in my companies. I've instructed my attorneys to cooperate. I may have legal consequences to face.
I read the words twice.
Then a third message arrived.
I don't want you to defend me if the evidence says I was wrong. I want you to tell the truth.
Tears filled my eyes.
I hadn't expected that.
I had expected excuses.
Requests for loyalty.
Promises that his lawyers would make everything disappear.
Instead, he was asking me to do what my mother had done.
Tell the truth.
Even if it hurt.
I typed a reply.
That's exactly what I'm going to do.
Then I put down the phone.
I didn't know whether Dominic and I had a future.
But I knew something more important.
I wasn't going to lose myself trying to save him.
That afternoon, Marcus called.
His voice sounded different.
Urgent.
“Chloe, are you with Nadine?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Don't leave the apartment.”
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
He hesitated.
Then he said, “Vincent has disappeared.”
I gripped the phone.
“Disappeared?”
“His driver abandoned a vehicle near Logan Airport. The security cameras show him leaving with a different man.”
“Who?”
“We don't know yet.”
My heart pounded.
“Do the police know?”
“Yes. We're passing everything we have to them.”
I looked at Nadine.
She saw my expression and immediately stood.
“Chloe?”
Marcus continued.
“There's something else.”
I barely breathed.
“What?”
“Vincent's people recovered a copy of your mother's records before we knew the storage unit existed.”
I went cold.
“How?”
“We believe someone inside the foundation gave them access to earlier documents.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means they know what your mother preserved.”
I stared at the window.
Outside, a car slowed near the curb.
Then another.
Marcus's voice became sharp.
“Chloe, listen carefully. Vincent may believe there's more evidence he hasn't found.”
I swallowed.
“There is.”
Silence.
Then Marcus said, “What?”
I looked at the photograph of my mother beside Nadine's television.
I'd remembered something during the night.
Something I hadn't told anyone because it had seemed insignificant.
During her final week, my mother had asked me to mail a birthday card to an address in Vermont.
There was no birthday message inside.
Just a sealed envelope.
She had insisted I send it by certified mail.
I remembered the recipient now.
Laura Bennett.
May you like
The missing attorney.
“Marcus,” I whispered, “I think I know where the lawyer went.”
