Chapter 5 - Her Father’s Last SecretKhloe wanted to scream.
Instead, she laughed.
It was not a happy sound.
“Of course there’s a vault.”
Roman said nothing.
“Why wouldn’t there be a vault under Manhattan containing secrets that could destroy powerful people? Apparently my father lived inside a television series and forgot to mention it.”
“Brooklyn.”
“What?”
“The tunnel is in Brooklyn.”
Khloe stared at him.
Roman cleared his throat.
“Technically.”
She almost threw the water glass at him.
Instead, she sat.
“What records?”
Roman remained standing.
“Twenty years of shipping manifests, property transfers and payment logs.”
“Why would my father have them?”
“He didn’t create the vault.”
“Who did?”
“My father.”
That stopped her.
Roman’s father, Salvatore Casso, had been dead nine years.
Khloe knew his reputation.
Everybody in New York did.
If Roman was feared, Salvatore had been legendary.
Khloe whispered, “Why would your father’s vault be under property connected to my company?”
“Because thirty years ago, Michael Harrison and my father were partners.”
Khloe stood again.
“No.”
“Not in the way you think.”
“Then explain.”
Roman walked toward the window.
“Your father owned two trucks. My father controlled warehouse access along the waterfront. Michael needed space. Salvatore needed legitimate transport.”
Khloe listened.
“For three years, they worked together.”
“My father worked for the Cassos?”
“With them.”
“Doing what?”
“Moving ordinary freight.”
She stared skeptically.
Roman smiled faintly.
“Believe it or not, even my family occasionally transported things that came with invoices.”
Khloe folded her arms.
“Continue.”
“Michael eventually discovered my father was hiding records inside an abandoned tunnel beneath Terminal Seventeen.”
“Records of crimes?”
“Records of everyone who paid him, borrowed from him or betrayed him.”
Khloe understood.
“Insurance.”
“Yes.”
“Blackmail.”
“If necessary.”
Khloe looked away.
“My father knew.”
“He knew the vault existed. He never had access.”
“Then why does Derek care?”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Because Salvatore left me the key.”
Khloe’s gaze snapped back.
“And?”
“And your father’s company owns the tunnel.”
Now she understood.
“You need me.”
“Yes.”
The admission came without hesitation.
Khloe almost appreciated it.
Almost.
“So that’s why you helped me.”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe—”
“I started helping you before I knew Michael had transferred the tunnel rights.”
“You already knew the company had the easement.”
“Access rights. Not ownership.”
“What changed?”
“Your father changed the property structure six months before he died.”
Khloe thought of Michael’s secret investigation.
“He knew somebody was coming.”
“Yes.”
“And he made sure neither you nor Derek could access the vault alone.”
Roman nodded.
Khloe let the thought settle.
Michael had designed a lock requiring enemies to cooperate.
That sounded exactly like him.
“What’s in there about Derek?”
“I don’t know.”
“But Derek thinks there’s something.”
“Yes.”
Khloe walked toward the window.
Below them, Manhattan moved as if nothing had changed.
She had lost her father six months ago.
Her engagement twelve hours ago.
Her trust in Aubrey.
Her understanding of the company.
And now she had discovered her father had spent part of his life connected to the Casso family.
“What happens if we open it?”
Roman answered carefully.
“Whatever is inside stops being a rumor.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Derek will keep trying.”
Khloe turned.
“Then we open it.”
They went to Red Hook that night.
Not secretly.
Roman insisted secrecy would make them more vulnerable.
Khloe insisted on bringing Rachel Greene and Maria Chen.
Two lawyers were also present.
So were cameras documenting every step.
“If something inside belongs to my company,” Khloe said, “I want a chain of custody.”
Roman glanced at her.
“Your father would approve.”
She looked at him.
“You don’t get to use him to charm me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“That sounded like charming.”
“I’m told I’m terrible at it.”
“You are.”
Roman almost smiled.
The entrance lay behind an old refrigeration room inside Terminal Seventeen.
Roman unlocked the first steel door.
Khloe used a corporate property key on the second.
Beyond it was a narrow brick tunnel.
At the end stood a vault door.
Two locks.
Roman had one key.
Khloe’s brass warehouse key fit the other.
They turned them together.
The vault opened.
Inside were filing cabinets.
Metal boxes.
Old computer drives.
And one table.
On it sat an envelope.
Modern.
White.
Michael Harrison’s handwriting.
ROMAN AND KHLOE. TOGETHER.
Khloe stared.
Roman did not touch it.
“You open it.”
She did.
The letter inside was dated three weeks before Michael died.
Roman,
If Khloe is standing beside you, then either you kept your word or the universe has a very strange sense of humor.
Khloe looked at Roman.
“What word?”
He ignored the question.
She continued.
Khloe, I know you will be angry that I did not tell you everything.
Be angry.
You have every right.
But understand why I kept this secret.
Salvatore Casso once saved Harrison Logistics from men who wanted to use it for things I refused to carry.
Years later, I returned that favor by making sure Roman inherited information before Salvatore’s enemies could destroy him.
Neither family owes the other anything anymore.
Whatever happens next must be your choice.
Khloe swallowed.
The next paragraph changed everything.
Derek Pierce has been searching for this vault.
He believes it contains evidence tied to his father.
Khloe looked up.
“His father?”
Roman had gone completely still.
“Who was Derek’s father?”
Roman whispered, “Martin Pierce.”
Khloe knew the name.
A Wall Street financier who had died in prison twelve years earlier after a massive pension fraud scandal.
The letter continued.
Martin Pierce used Salvatore’s shipping companies to hide proceeds from his fraud.
When the scheme collapsed, Martin believed Salvatore betrayed him.
He was wrong.
The person who turned over the records was me.
Khloe sat down.
“My father sent Derek’s father to prison.”
Roman’s expression was grim.
“Apparently.”
Michael continued.
Derek discovered this two years ago.
I believe what began as financial revenge has become something larger.
He does not merely want Harrison Logistics.
He wants to erase everything I built and take what I protected.
Khloe felt tears gather.
For the first time, Derek’s behavior made terrible sense.
This was not only greed.
It was revenge.
Roman removed a metal box marked PIERCE.
Inside were bank records.
Letters.
Copies of wire transfers.
And an audio recorder.
They played it.
Martin Pierce’s voice.
Then another.
A younger Derek.
The recording was from twelve years earlier.
Martin said, “Harrison did this.”
Derek asked, “Who?”
“Michael Harrison.”
“What happens now?”
“I go away.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe forever.”
The younger Derek began crying.
Martin’s voice hardened.
“Listen to me. One day Harrison’s little kingdom will belong to his daughter.”
Khloe froze.
“When that day comes, you take it from her.”
Nobody moved.
The recording continued.
“You take his company. His land. His name.”
A pause.
“And make her thank you while you do it.”
The recorder stopped.
Khloe could barely breathe.
For years, Derek had not been accidentally placed near her family.
He had come looking for them.
The management position.
The friendship.
The romance.
The proposal.
Every part of their relationship might have been engineered.
Roman stepped toward her.
Khloe held up one hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
She stood alone in the vault and allowed herself one minute.
One minute to mourn the man she thought she had loved.
Then she wiped her face.
“What else is in the box?”
Roman watched her carefully.
“Khloe.”
“What else?”
Rachel opened another folder.
Her expression changed.
“Financial transfers.”
“To where?”
“Pierce Holdings.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“No.”
Rachel turned the page.
“These are older.”
“How old?”
“Five years.”
Before Derek worked for Harrison Logistics.
Khloe stepped closer.
Rachel pointed toward the source.
AH FAMILY INVESTMENTS.
Aubrey.
Khloe shook her head.
“That’s impossible.”
Roman looked at the dates.
“Aubrey knew Derek before he joined the company.”
Khloe felt sick.
“How long?”
Rachel continued through the records.
Then she found a photograph.
Derek Pierce.
Aubrey Harrison.
Standing together outside a hotel in Boston.
Date stamped:
Six years earlier.
Khloe stared at it.
Six years ago was one year before Derek claimed he had first met Aubrey at Harrison Logistics.
Khloe whispered, “They lied about everything.”
Roman looked toward another envelope.
It was marked:
IF AUBREY IS STILL WITH HIM, SHOW HER THIS.
Inside was one photograph.
Aubrey’s mother.
Standing beside Michael Harrison.
And a handwritten note.
Aubrey is not my stepdaughter.
Khloe’s hands started shaking.
She read the next line.
She is my daughter too.
The room disappeared around her.
Roman said quietly, “Khloe?”
She could not answer.
Aubrey was not simply the girl Michael Harrison had raised.
She was his biological child.
May you like
Khloe’s half-sister.
And their father had died without ever telling either of them.
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