Chapter 4 - The Wife Victor Wanted SilencedElena spent one night in custody.
It was the longest night of Roman’s life.
He had slept through gunfire.
Conducted negotiations with enemies holding knives beneath tables.
Waited outside operating rooms while men loyal to him fought for their lives.
None of those things prepared him for sitting in a lawyer’s office at 3:00 a.m. knowing Elena was behind a locked door somewhere he did not control.
“Stop pacing,” Matteo said.
Roman turned.
“Would you like to say that again?”
Matteo reconsidered.
“No.”
The attorney, Rebecca Hale, looked between them.
“Threatening your own lieutenant will not accelerate the arraignment.”
Roman sat.
“For the record, he enjoys it.”
Matteo nodded.
“True.”
Rebecca returned to the documents.
“We have problems.”
Roman’s patience disappeared.
“I am aware.”
“The footage looks bad.”
“It is edited.”
“We have to prove that.”
“Carlo attacked her.”
“Carlo is dead.”
“He was Victor’s man.”
“Victor is currently presenting himself through attorneys as a retired businessman unfairly accused by a criminal syndicate.”
Roman’s expression became murderous.
Rebecca ignored it.
“Someone also placed Elena’s fingerprints on the second pistol.”
Roman frowned.
“She never touched it.”
“Then someone moved evidence after you left.”
“Police were there.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“Exactly.”
Roman understood.
Victor still had influence inside law enforcement.
This was not simply a criminal problem.
It was institutional.
Elena was released the following afternoon because prosecutors could not establish intent and because Roman’s lawyers attacked the altered footage immediately.
Roman waited outside.
Dozens of reporters gathered near the courthouse.
Questions flew.
“Mrs. Duca, did you murder Carlo Venti?”
“Is your husband protecting you?”
“Mr. Duca, did you order the killing?”
Roman saw Elena appear.
Tired.
Pale.
Still composed.
He moved toward her.
An officer reached for Elena’s arm to guide her.
Roman’s body reacted.
“Don’t.”
The officer froze.
Elena looked at him.
Roman stopped himself before creating an incident.
The officer stepped away.
Elena walked down the stairs.
Roman took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders.
Cameras flashed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
“Roman.”
“Answer.”
She looked at him.
“No one hurt me.”
He nodded.
Then she whispered, “You need to stop looking at police officers like you want to bury them.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Not all of them.”
Elena almost smiled.
They entered the car.
The second the door shut, Roman pulled her into his arms.
No hesitation.
No calculation.
Elena froze for half a heartbeat.
Then held him back.
“I’m okay.”
“I know.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Roman buried his face briefly against her hair.
“I hate when you’re right.”
“I’m discovering that.”
When he released her, something between them had changed permanently.
The distance they maintained for eight months no longer fit.
Elena rested her hand over his.
Roman did not move it.
“The missing page,” he said.
She nodded.
“My father tore something out before hiding the notebook.”
“How do you know?”
“The numbering skips from page thirty-seven to thirty-nine.”
Roman stared.
“I hate people who notice things.”
“You employ accountants.”
“I hate them too.”
Elena smiled.
“Page thirty-eight may tell us where the main ledger went.”
“Victor knows?”
“I don’t think so.”
Roman looked toward the window.
“Then Enzo might.”
Matteo had spent twelve hours tracking Roman’s former security chief.
Enzo finally surfaced at a private marina in Connecticut.
Roman wanted to go himself.
Elena objected.
“You are the person Victor most wants dead.”
Roman looked at her.
“He also wants you dead.”
“Yes.”
“So your argument is weak.”
“My argument is that one of us should demonstrate survival instincts.”
Roman stepped closer.
“You are staying with Matteo.”
Elena folded her arms.
“I spent eight months obeying you politely.”
“And?”
“I’ve reached my annual limit.”
Roman nearly laughed.
“You aren’t coming.”
“Then neither are you.”
“That is not how authority works.”
“It is in marriage.”
Roman stared.
Elena stared back.
Matteo entered the room, saw them, and immediately tried to leave.
“Stay,” Roman ordered.
Matteo sighed.
Elena looked at him.
“Who is right?”
Matteo looked at Roman.
Then Elena.
“I have a family.”
Roman glared.
Matteo chose carefully.
“Mrs. Duca has a reasonable tactical concern.”
Elena smiled.
Roman looked betrayed.
“You’re fired.”
“You fire me twice a month.”
“Eventually it will mean something.”
They compromised.
Roman went to Connecticut.
Elena remained at a secondary command location but stayed on secure communication.
Enzo’s yacht sat near the end of the marina.
Roman boarded with Matteo and four men.
No guards.
Too easy.
Roman entered the cabin.
Enzo sat at the table.
Alone.
A glass of whiskey before him.
“You came.”
Roman aimed his weapon.
“You sound surprised.”
“I thought Elena might convince you not to.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“You know her well?”
Enzo smiled.
“Victor does.”
Roman moved closer.
“Where is he?”
“No idea.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Truthful answer.”
Roman sat opposite him.
Matteo searched the boat.
Enzo looked older than Roman remembered yesterday.
Tired.
Defeated.
“Why did you help him?”
Enzo took a drink.
“Victor gave me everything.”
“My father gave you your first job.”
“Your father treated me like staff.”
“You were staff.”
Enzo laughed.
“Victor promised men like me could become more.”
Roman leaned forward.
“And twenty years later you are hiding on a boat.”
The smile vanished.
“Where is page thirty-eight?”
Enzo’s expression changed.
Roman saw it.
“So you know.”
“I know it ruined Victor’s life.”
“Where?”
Enzo looked toward the window.
“Ask your mother.”
Roman froze.
“What?”
“Isabella had the page.”
“My mother?”
“Lorenzo gave it to her the night he died.”
Roman’s anger returned.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“You should ask her.”
Enzo finished his whiskey.
Roman sensed something wrong.
“What did Victor want from Elena?”
Enzo’s eyes moved toward him.
“Not Elena.”
“What?”
“The marriage.”
Roman stared.
Enzo smiled sadly.
“Victor didn’t care which Santoro married which Duca.”
“Explain.”
“The hidden ledger had a condition.”
Roman’s stomach tightened.
“What condition?”
“Gabriel and Lorenzo knew the evidence alone wasn’t enough. Too many officials were compromised.”
Enzo looked at him.
“So they created a trust structure.”
Roman remembered Victor manipulating the marriage.
“Go on.”
“Certain legitimate Duca assets and certain Santoro holdings were placed beneath dormant trusts.”
“For what?”
“If the families ever combined legally, control consolidated.”
Roman slowly understood.
“Marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Victor needed Elena married to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because once the trusts merged, he could force the surviving spouse to transfer everything.”
Roman’s blood went cold.
“Surviving spouse.”
Enzo nodded.
Victor’s plan had never been simply to kill Roman.
He needed the marriage first.
Then one spouse dead.
The other controlled.
Elena’s family trust plus Roman’s inherited holdings would give Victor access to legitimate infrastructure powerful enough to wash billions.
Roman stood.
“He intended to kill me and force Elena to sign.”
Enzo shook his head.
“At first.”
Roman stared.
“What changed?”
“You started protecting her.”
Roman said nothing.
Enzo continued.
“Victor realized she might influence you.”
“So he ordered both of us killed.”
“Yes.”
Roman’s phone buzzed.
Elena.
He answered.
“What?”
“Roman.”
Her voice sounded wrong.
He stood straighter.
“What happened?”
“There are men outside.”
His blood went cold.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Matteo’s team?”
“They’re down.”
Roman looked toward Matteo.
Matteo’s face changed.
Roman moved toward the door.
“Elena, lock yourself in the panic room.”
“I’m trying.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Roman ran.
“Elena!”
Her breathing accelerated.
Then a man’s voice came through.
“Mrs. Duca.”
Roman recognized Victor.
He stopped.
“Elena.”
Victor laughed softly.
“Roman.”
Roman gripped the phone.
“If you touch her—”
“You always were predictable where women were concerned.”
Roman was already heading toward the car.
“Elena is not part of this.”
Victor replied, “Elena is the entire reason this still matters.”
Roman’s voice became deadly.
“What do you want?”
“The original Lorenzo recording.”
“You already know what it says.”
“I want the physical copy.”
“And?”
“Page thirty-eight.”
“I don’t have it.”
“You will.”
Victor paused.
“Bring both to Pier Seventeen tomorrow midnight.”
Roman’s hand tightened.
“Let me speak to her.”
Silence.
Then Elena’s voice.
“Roman.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I’m not hurt.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Elena, listen to me.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I’m coming.”
Victor took the phone.
“No police. No army. No Matteo.”
Roman laughed coldly.
“You think I follow your rules now?”
“If you want your wife alive.”
The line ended.
Roman stood beside the car.
Rain had started.
Matteo approached.
“Boss.”
Roman looked at him.
Matteo had never seen that expression before.
Not rage.
Fear.
“Roman.”
“He has her.”
“I know.”
Roman looked toward the dark water.
Victor believed Elena was leverage.
For eight months, Roman had pretended she was not.
Pretended their marriage was business.
Pretended her presence had become familiar rather than necessary.
Pretended the sound of her laughter did not change the atmosphere of entire rooms.
Pretended he did not stay awake when she had migraines.
Pretended he had not memorized the exact moment she came downstairs every morning.
Victor had seen through him before Roman admitted it himself.
Matteo spoke carefully.
“What do you want to do?”
Roman looked at him.
“Give him what he wants.”
Matteo stared.
“The recording?”
“Yes.”
“The page?”
“We find it.”
“Roman, that evidence can destroy him.”
Roman opened the car door.
“Elena is worth more.”
Matteo remained still.
Roman looked back.
“My father is dead.”
His voice became quiet.
May you like
“I will not sacrifice my wife to avenge a ghost.”
And for the first time in his life, Roman Duca chose a living person over the empire of dead men that had defined him.
Related Stories
