Chapter 2 - The File Hidden Inside My Husband’s Office
Roman’s estate sat behind twelve-foot iron gates on the North Shore of Long Island.
I had seen photographs of it in magazines, although the articles never mentioned who owned it.
They called it a historic waterfront property.
They never mentioned the armed guards.
Or the cameras hidden in the trees.
Or the men positioned outside every entrance.
The Maybach stopped beneath a covered stone archway.
Roman opened my door.
“Careful.”
I stepped out.
My legs were stiff after the drive.
A woman in her fifties approached immediately.
“Mrs. Cole.”
I flinched.
“How do you know my name?”
Roman answered behind me.
“Everyone here does.”
The woman smiled gently.
“I’m Elena. I manage the house.”
“I don't belong here.”
“You do tonight.”
Roman walked toward the entrance.
I followed him.
Inside, the estate was warm and quiet.
Fire burned in a massive stone fireplace.
Snow tapped against the windows.
For one strange moment, it felt safe.
Then I remembered where I was.
I stopped.
“Roman.”
He turned.
“What?”
“I need my phone.”
“You have it.”
“Harrison's number.”
He paused.
“Why?”
“I want to call him.”
Roman looked at me with something close to pity.
“You already did.”
“I need to know where he is.”
“So do I.”
“Then help me find him.”
Roman stepped closer.
“First, you need to know who you're looking for.”
An hour later, a folder sat in front of me on a dining table.
My name was written across the front.
I stared at it.
“What's inside?”
“Your husband’s financial records.”
I didn't touch it.
“You said this would clear my name.”
“I said it would show you what he did.”
I opened the folder.
The first page was a transfer authorization.
My signature.
I stared.
“That isn't mine.”
Roman sat across from me.
“The signature matches.”
“It isn't mine.”
He leaned back.
“I believe you.”
“There’s no reason to.”
“There is.”
He pushed another document toward me.
“This transaction happened while you were in the hospital.”
I looked at the date.
It was the day I had nearly lost the baby after slipping on the stairs.
I remembered being sedated.
I couldn't have signed anything.
My hands began shaking.
Roman saw it.
“Keep going.”
The next pages showed transfers.
Millions.
Then offshore accounts.
Then shipping manifests.
Then photographs.
My husband's business partner.
Men I had never seen.
Containers.
Warehouses.
A warehouse in Brooklyn.
Then a handwritten note.
I read it twice.
“Package the wife as security if necessary.”
My stomach turned.
“That's me.”
Roman nodded.
“I'm afraid so.”
I looked up.
“Why didn't you stop him?”
“I didn't know.”
“You're supposed to know everything.”
“That’s mythology.”
I stared at him.
For the first time, I saw exhaustion behind his controlled expression.
“You really didn't know?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know to come for me at the airport?”
“Because Harrison sent a message.”
“What did it say?”
Roman reached into his coat.
He placed a phone on the table.
One message was open.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
She will be at Teterboro with the documents. Take custody of her. I’ll settle the remaining debt tomorrow.
I stared at the message.
“That's Harrison.”
“Yes.”
“He told you where I'd be.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
Roman didn't answer.
I scrolled.
There was another message.
This one had been sent two hours earlier.
Do not let her contact federal agents.
My hands went cold.
I looked at Roman.
“This isn't about the money.”
“No.”
“Then what is it about?”
Roman took a breath.
“Your husband has been moving something through my ports.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“He kept the manifests separate from the financial records.”
“Why?”
“So even if the accounts were discovered, no one could trace the cargo.”
I stared at the papers.
“What kind of cargo?”
“That’s what we're trying to find.”
Suddenly, footsteps echoed outside.
A guard entered.
“Mr. Costa.”
Roman stood.
“What?”
“We found something.”
His expression changed.
“Where?”
“Cole Logistics headquarters.”
Roman looked at me.
“Come with me.”
“No.”
“You need to see it.”
We arrived at the headquarters less than an hour later.
The office had been abandoned.
Lights flickered.
Computers had been wiped.
Harrison’s private office was locked.
Roman's man forced the door open.
Inside, everything appeared untouched.
Except for one thing.
A framed photograph on Harrison’s desk had been turned face down.
I recognized it immediately.
Our wedding.
I walked toward it.
My wedding dress.
Harrison smiling.
His hand around my waist.
I picked it up.
Something rattled behind the frame.
Roman noticed.
“Move.”
He removed the backing.
Inside was a small brass key.
I stared.
“Harrison hid that?”
“Yes.”
Roman took it.
The engraving on the key read:
C-19.
“What's C-19?”
“I don't know.”
A guard spoke.
“We found another item.”
He handed Roman a black notebook.
Roman opened it.
Every page contained names.
Dates.
Numbers.
Then I saw mine.
CHLOE COLE — 6/18
My breath caught.
“What is that date?”
Roman looked at me.
“The day you told Harrison you were pregnant?”
“Yes.”
He turned the page.
Another entry.
SUBJECT CONFIRMED.
I stepped back.
“Subject?”
Roman's expression hardened.
“There’s more.”
The final page contained one sentence.
If she remembers, everyone dies.
I felt the room spin.
“I don't understand.”
Roman closed the notebook.
“You will.”
“What does that mean?”
He walked toward me.
“Chloe, six months ago, you weren't just told you were pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You were also involved in an accident.”
My pulse jumped.
“Yes.”
“The doctors said it was a brake failure.”
I nodded slowly.
Roman stared at me.
“The brakes weren't faulty.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
“We recovered the vehicle.”
Roman's voice became quieter.
“They were cut.”
I touched the desk for support.
“Someone tried to kill me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman looked down at the notebook.
“That's what Harrison knew.”
My stomach twisted.
“Then why marry me?”
Roman's eyes met mine.
“Because the people behind this wanted access to you.”
“Access to what?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he pointed at the notebook.
“The fact that you survived.”
May you like
I felt my baby move again.
And for the first time, I wondered whether my child had been the reason my husband married me in the first place.
