Chapter 9 - No More Blood DebtsVictor Solerno received three consecutive life sentences.
The courtroom was full when the judge announced them.
Roman attended.
So did Elena.
Gabriel watched through a protected video connection.
Isabella sat beside Matteo and whispered criticism about the prosecutor’s tie until Roman threatened to move her.
Victor showed no regret.
When officers led him away, he looked at Roman.
“One day you’ll understand.”
Roman replied, “I already do.”
Victor paused.
Roman continued.
“You spent your life believing winning meant controlling everyone around you.”
Victor smiled coldly.
“And you don’t?”
Roman looked toward Elena.
“No.”
That was the last conversation they ever had.
The months afterward were less dramatic.
And much harder.
Violence had simple rules.
Life did not.
Roman dismantled the final illegal Duca operations.
Some men accepted severance packages.
Some entered legitimate companies.
Others left.
Three attempted to challenge Roman.
None succeeded.
Not because Roman murdered them.
Because nobody followed them.
The old fear-based structure had lost its purpose.
Duca Construction became publicly audited.
Duca Imports withdrew from questionable contracts.
Roman sold properties connected to trafficking and illegal gambling.
Profits from several sales funded compensation for families harmed by the organization.
Matteo stared at the first payment list.
“You know criminals usually keep the money.”
Roman signed.
“We are trying something new.”
“This personal growth is expensive.”
Roman almost smiled.
Elena returned to school.
Years earlier she had wanted to study law.
Gabriel’s disappearance ended those plans.
Now Roman found her filling out an application at the kitchen table.
“What is that?”
“None of your business.”
He looked over her shoulder.
“Law school.”
She covered the page.
“You’re intrusive.”
“You are applying.”
“Maybe.”
Roman sat.
“Why law?”
Elena looked at him.
“Because I spent half my life watching powerful men use rules against people who didn’t understand them.”
Roman nodded.
“Good reason.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
“You’re not going to offer to pay?”
“I was thinking it.”
“Roman.”
“But I learned.”
She smiled.
He added, “I can create an anonymous scholarship.”
“Roman.”
“Still learning.”
Gabriel improved slowly.
Some memories returned.
Others never did.
He moved into a small home near Elena.
Not the Duca estate.
He refused.
“Too many rich people.”
Roman looked around his new modest house.
“There are three bedrooms.”
Gabriel stared.
“Exactly.”
Roman liked him more every week.
Isabella and Gabriel developed an unexpected friendship built mostly around insulting Roman.
He regretted introducing them.
One evening, nearly a year after the ballroom incident, Roman returned home and found Elena standing beside a suitcase.
Fear hit him instantly.
Again.
“You are packing.”
“Yes.”
His chest tightened.
“Why?”
She smiled.
“This time relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like someone threatened a city.”
Roman folded his arms.
“Explain.”
“Our anniversary is tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“The original marriage agreement ends.”
Roman knew.
Of course he knew.
The agreement Victor created had specified twelve months.
After that, Elena could leave without financial obligation.
Roman had not mentioned it.
Neither had she.
Until now.
Elena sat.
“I need to ask you something.”
Roman remained standing.
“No.”
She blinked.
“I haven’t asked.”
“I dislike the direction.”
She smiled.
“Sit.”
Roman reluctantly obeyed.
Elena removed a folder.
The marriage agreement.
He looked at it.
“I hate that document.”
“Me too.”
She placed it between them.
“Eight months ago, I thought our marriage was a prison with expensive furniture.”
Roman winced.
“That is fair.”
“I thought you were cold.”
“I was.”
“Arrogant.”
“Yes.”
“Controlling.”
“Yes.”
“Emotionally constipated.”
Roman stared.
“That sounds medically inaccurate.”
“It is spiritually accurate.”
He sighed.
“Continue.”
Elena smiled.
“Then everything happened.”
Roman looked at her.
“And?”
“And I discovered you were still arrogant.”
He waited.
“But also loyal.”
His expression softened.
“Stubborn.”
“Yes.”
“Terrible at apologies.”
“Debatable.”
“Terrified of losing people.”
Roman said nothing.
Elena touched his hand.
“And capable of changing.”
He looked down.
She continued.
“I love you.”
Roman’s fingers closed around hers.
“But.”
His stomach dropped.
“There is always a but.”
“There needs to be.”
Elena looked toward the contract.
“I don’t want to renew this marriage.”
Roman released her hand.
Silence.
Elena watched him carefully.
Roman stood.
“Understood.”
“Roman.”
“You do not owe me an explanation.”
“I do if you’d stop behaving like I stabbed you.”
“I am behaving normally.”
“You look dead.”
He turned toward the window.
Elena got up.
“I said I don’t want to renew this marriage.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t say I want to leave you.”
Roman turned.
She smiled.
“I want this marriage to end.”
He stared.
“And then?”
“I want you to ask me again.”
Roman stopped breathing.
Elena’s eyes shone.
“Without Victor.”
She stepped closer.
“Without debts.”
Closer.
“Without threats.”
She placed her hand over his chest.
“Without contracts.”
Roman stared at her.
“You are divorcing me so I can propose?”
“Yes.”
“That is absurd.”
“I learned drama from your family.”
Roman laughed.
Really laughed.
Elena smiled.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“You cannot propose tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be legally free first.”
Roman’s smile faded slightly.
“Why is that important?”
“So when I say yes, both of us know I could have said no.”
Roman understood.
Love without choice was not love.
Victor had spent decades misunderstanding that.
Roman would not.
“Agreed.”
The divorce became final six weeks later.
The judge looked confused.
“You both appear very comfortable for people ending a marriage.”
Roman replied, “We are improving it.”
The judge looked at Elena.
“Is he always like this?”
“Yes.”
Outside the courthouse, Elena walked down the steps.
Roman followed.
For the first time since meeting her, she was not legally tied to him.
No debt.
No threat.
No contract.
Elena turned.
“Well?”
Roman looked at her.
“What?”
She laughed.
“I said not tomorrow. I didn’t say wait forever.”
Roman stared.
“You want me to propose on courthouse steps?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He took her hand.
“Come with me.”
He drove her to the same ballroom where everything began.
It had been restored.
No event tonight.
Empty chandeliers.
Quiet marble.
Elena stopped inside.
“Roman.”
He led her toward the pillar where the two men had grabbed her.
She looked at him.
“Romantic location.”
“Wait.”
Roman reached into his jacket.
Elena’s eyes widened.
He did not kneel immediately.
Instead, he looked at her bloody hands in his memory.
The terror.
The secrets.
The gunfire.
Everything between that night and now.
“The first time I called you my wife in this room,” he said, “I thought the word meant you were mine to protect.”
Elena listened.
“I was wrong.”
Roman took her hand.
“You never belonged to me.”
Her eyes filled.
“You stayed because you chose to.”
He knelt.
“I want a wife who can leave.”
Elena laughed through tears.
“I want a wife who argues.”
“You already have experience.”
“I want a wife who tells me when I am becoming someone I should hate.”
Her smile softened.
“And I want to spend the rest of my life giving you reasons to stay.”
He opened the box.
A simple diamond ring.
Elegant.
Nothing connected to either family.
No inherited stone.
No blood history.
Something new.
“Elena Santoro.”
She stared at him.
“Will you marry me because you want to?”
Tears ran down her face.
“Yes.”
Roman exhaled.
“You should have answered faster.”
She laughed.
“You were nervous.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
He stood and kissed her.
Then Elena looked toward the marble floor.
“Do you remember the blood?”
Roman’s expression changed.
“Yes.”
“I thought that night destroyed everything.”
Roman wrapped an arm around her.
“It did.”
She looked up.
May you like
He smiled.
“Everything that needed destroying.”
