Chapter 9 - The Trial of Alejandro Romano
By morning, every major news network in America had Alejandro’s face on-screen.
Some called him a criminal mastermind.
Some called him a vigilante.
Some simply called him the most dangerous man in Manhattan.
Federal prosecutors announced they were reviewing evidence.
Senator Vale’s attorneys claimed he had been coerced.
Mercer refused to speak.
Petrov demanded immunity.
Alejandro returned to the mansion and prepared for arrest.
Isabella hated how calm he looked.
“You expected this.”
“I expected something.”
“So you’re just going to let them take you?”
“If I run, Mercer wins.”
Thomas entered with the micro-SD card.
“We have the financial records.”
“They’ll say they’re fabricated,” Alejandro replied.
“Lucia’s recording.”
“Old and partially degraded.”
“Marco’s testimony.”
“A compromised lieutenant.”
Isabella looked at the video again.
Then noticed something.
“Pause.”
Thomas stopped the frame.
Weapons crates moved through Warehouse Seventeen.
Alejandro’s men appeared to be carrying them.
But in the background, an emergency clock displayed 9:52.
She frowned.
“What time did we enter?”
“9:14,” Thomas said.
“When did Petrov get arrested?”
“9:41.”
Isabella pointed.
“This footage says 9:52.”
Alejandro stepped closer.
The clock.
Mercer had edited the video.
But not perfectly.
Thomas smiled slowly.
“That’s enough to prove manipulation.”
“Not enough to clear him completely,” Isabella said.
Then she remembered the gala.
The hotel cameras.
The tunnel.
Mercer and Petrov meeting.
“Grandeville security footage.”
Alejandro shook his head.
“Mercer likely erased it.”
“The ballroom cameras maybe.”
She thought.
“But not the catering system.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Our service badges were RFID tracked. The hotel records every staff door access for liability. If Mercer and Petrov used federal credentials downstairs, the access logs may still exist separately.”
Thomas grabbed his coat.
They reached the hotel before noon.
Mrs. Halpern nearly fainted when Isabella walked in with Alejandro Romano.
The IT manager was more useful.
The service system had indeed logged every badge.
Federal credential 7A-441: basement access.
Registered to Daniel Mercer.
Time: 1:07 a.m.
Another credential:
VIP-OVERRIDE 02.
Issued to Senator Robert Vale’s security detail.
And a third:
PETROV CONSULTING.
Temporary contractor access.
The conspiracy was suddenly documented in a boring hotel database no one had thought to destroy.
But Isabella found more.
The gala’s catering cameras were separate from hotel security.
One camera faced the terrace hallway.
There, clear as daylight, were Petrov, Mercer, and Vale entering a private meeting room together.
Timestamped.
Unedited.
The footage changed everything.
By evening, federal prosecutors announced Alejandro would not be charged in connection with the weapons shipment pending further review.
Two days later, Vale resigned.
A week later, Mercer was indicted.
Petrov faced charges ranging from arms trafficking to murder conspiracy.
Marco entered witness protection after agreeing to testify.
And Thomas finally came home.
Not to his old life.
That life was gone.
But to Lucia.
The reunion was awkward, painful, and real.
Isabella watched them sit across from each other at the mansion kitchen table.
Sixteen years of choices between them.
Lucia looked at Thomas.
“You kept her safe.”
Thomas nodded.
“I also lied to her.”
“Yes.”
“She hates me.”
“I do not hate you,” Isabella said from the doorway.
Thomas turned.
“I am furious with you.”
“That sounds more accurate.”
She crossed the room and hugged him.
He held her carefully.
Then Lucia joined them.
For a moment, Isabella had the closest thing to a family she had felt since childhood.
Later that night, she found Alejandro alone on the terrace.
His shoulder was bandaged.
Manhattan glowed below.
“You’re leaving,” he said.
She frowned.
“What?”
“Nursing school starts again Monday.”
“So?”
“You have an apartment.”
“Currently missing half a window.”
“I’ll replace it.”
“You are not buying me a new apartment.”
“I said window.”
“With you, that usually means building.”
He smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“You should go back to your life.”
Isabella studied him.
“You mean the life where I work three jobs and pretend none of this happened?”
“The life where no one shoots at you because of me.”
“People shot at me before I even knew you.”
“That does not improve the argument.”
She stepped closer.
“You think danger only belongs to your world.”
“It mostly does.”
“You also think you decide what’s best for everyone.”
“I’m working on that.”
“Poorly.”
“Yes.”
She looked at the city.
Then at him.
“I’m going back to nursing school.”
“Good.”
“I’m keeping my apartment.”
“Fine.”
“I’m also not disappearing from your life.”
Alejandro went still.
“Isabella.”
“No.”
“You deserve normal.”
“Normal is overrated.”
“I am not.”
She smiled.
“That might be the most arrogant sentence you’ve said.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He looked at her like the answer mattered too much.
She stepped closer.
“You started protecting me because my father saved you.”
“Yes.”
“Then because Thomas asked.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
Alejandro’s voice lowered.
“Then it became you.”
The words settled between them.
Isabella reached up and touched his face.
“You know I hated you the first night.”
“I was aware.”
“I slapped you.”
“Twice.”
“Technically.”
He smiled.
Then he kissed her.
Not like a man claiming something.
Like a man finally asking.
Isabella kissed him back.
Behind them, through the terrace doors, Thomas saw.
His expression became murderous.
Lucia pulled him away by the sleeve.
“Leave them.”
“That man is dangerous.”
Lucia gave him a look.
“So is your niece.”
Thomas considered.
“Fair.”
Outside, Isabella laughed against Alejandro’s mouth.
May you like
For the first time, the future did not feel stolen.
It felt chosen.
