Chapter 6 - The Price of Saving the Bellini Grand
By sunrise, reporters surrounded the Bellini Grand.
Satellite trucks blocked half the curb.
Guests photographed the chaos from the lobby.
Employees whispered in service corridors.
The leaked report was technically accurate enough to be dangerous and misleading enough to be devastating.
There was a pension shortfall.
There had been reporting failures.
Bellini executives had hidden discrepancies.
What the article omitted was that Roman had discovered the fraud and initiated the investigation himself.
Vittorio’s strategy was obvious.
Make Roman look responsible.
Collapse confidence.
Force creditors to demand action.
Then present Lakefront Capital as the rescue.
At 8:10 a.m., the hotel’s primary lender called.
At 8:32, another.
By nine, two board members had switched support to Vittorio.
At ten, Roman entered the ballroom for an emergency employee meeting.
Hundreds of workers filled every chair.
Emily stood along the wall beside Walter.
Roman took the stage alone.
No lawyers.
No prepared statement.
“For years,” he began, “this company told you that loyalty mattered.”
The room stayed silent.
“We expected you to work holidays. Overnight shifts. Snowstorms. Weddings. Funerals. Conventions. We expected you to remember guest names, repair problems before anyone complained, and make this hotel feel effortless.”
Samuel stood near the back.
Roman saw him.
“In return, you were supposed to be able to trust that your pay, benefits, and retirement were handled honestly.”
He stopped.
“They were not.”
Whispers moved through the room.
Roman continued.
“An independent investigation has found evidence that employee benefit calculations were manipulated. Some of you lost money. Some of you were transferred between company entities without proper explanation. Some were targeted for termination partly because removing long-service employees would reduce financial obligations before a planned sale.”
Now the room erupted.
Roman waited.
“Was it you?” someone shouted.
The room went silent again.
Roman looked toward the voice.
“No.”
A pause.
“But I signed documents that allowed it to continue because I did not ask enough questions.”
Emily watched his face.
He could have blamed Keller.
Reed.
Vittorio.
Instead he stood under the lights and admitted his failure.
“I am responsible for fixing that.”
A banquet captain raised her hand.
“Are we losing our pensions?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Bellini Holdings will fund every verified shortfall.”
Sofia’s head turned sharply from the side of the room.
That commitment had not been approved.
Roman continued.
“If the company lacks the cash, assets will be sold.”
A murmur.
“Which assets?” someone asked.
“Mine first.”
That changed the room.
Vittorio had expected Roman to protect the empire.
Roman was choosing the workers instead.
Afterward, Sofia cornered him backstage.
“Do you know what you just promised?”
“Yes.”
“Funding the liability could cost twelve to fifteen million.”
“Yes.”
“And if lenders accelerate debt?”
“We sell noncore assets.”
“Roman.”
He looked at her.
“The casino stake.”
Sofia stared.
Their family had owned part of the casino operation for decades.
It generated enormous cash.
It also represented the last major piece of the Bellini empire still connected to the old world their father had built.
“You would sell it?”
“Yes.”
Vittorio had miscalculated.
He believed Roman’s identity depended on owning what the Bellini men before him had owned.
It did not.
Not anymore.
Emily found Roman on the rooftop that evening.
Chicago stretched beneath them.
“You’re selling part of the empire.”
He nodded.
“Does that hurt?”
Roman considered.
“I thought it would.”
“And?”
“It feels like opening a window.”
She leaned against the railing.
“Your father really did a number on you.”
“That is a very American way to summarize generational criminal trauma.”
Emily laughed.
Roman looked at her.
He loved the sound.
He did not say that yet.
She became serious.
“Will it save the hotel?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“The board vote is tomorrow. If Vittorio removes me before the asset sale is approved, he can reverse everything.”
“Then release the recording.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the federal investigators want the people on it to believe we have less evidence than we do.”
Emily groaned.
“I hate investigations.”
“So do I.”
“You like them.”
“I like winning.”
“There. That’s more believable.”
Roman smiled.
Then Emily’s phone rang.
Margaret.
She answered.
No one spoke.
Then a male voice said, “Miss Hayes?”
Emily’s face changed.
Roman took one step closer.
“Who is this?”
The voice continued.
“Tell Roman Bellini to withdraw the employee fraud allegations before tomorrow’s board meeting.”
Emily looked at Roman.
He held out his hand for the phone.
She shook her head.
“Where is Margaret?”
A soft laugh.
“Safe.”
Emily’s blood turned cold.
“She had two security officers.”
“Not anymore.”
The call ended.
Roman immediately contacted Sofia.
Margaret’s safe residence had been compromised.
One security officer was found unconscious in a parking area.
The second had disappeared.
Margaret was gone.
Emily turned on Roman.
“You said she was safe.”
“I know.”
“You promised.”
“I know.”
Her eyes filled with rage.
“You promised me.”
Roman absorbed every word.
He did not defend himself.
He did not explain that security plans fail.
That trusted people betray.
That no system guarantees safety.
She did not need logic.
She needed Margaret back.
Within minutes, Roman activated every legitimate security contact he had.
Then he did something harder.
He called people from the world he had spent years separating from Bellini Holdings.
Old family associates.
Men who understood hidden cars, unofficial safe houses, and how Vittorio Bellini had operated thirty years earlier.
Sofia watched.
“Be careful.”
“I’m not asking them to hurt anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean they won’t.”
Roman looked at her.
“Then make it clear.”
By midnight, they had a lead.
A vehicle matching the one used to move Margaret had entered an abandoned Bellini-owned warehouse district near the river.
Roman wanted to go.
Sofia objected.
Emily insisted.
Roman refused.
Emily stared at him.
“You don’t get to decide.”
“There may be armed men.”
“You think that makes me less aware Margaret is there?”
“I think it makes bringing you reckless.”
“And leaving me behind makes me obedient?”
Roman closed his eyes.
This woman was going to kill him.
Not literally.
Probably.
“Stay in the command vehicle.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“I will stay behind police.”
Roman blinked.
“Police?”
“Yes. We call the police.”
He stared at her.
“What exactly did you think we were doing?”
Old instinct.
Old family methods.
Emily saw the answer.
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“You said you wanted to become different.”
Roman exhaled.
Then called federal investigators already working the pension case.
The warehouse raid happened at 3:14 a.m.
Roman and Emily watched from two blocks away.
Authorities entered.
Twenty-three minutes later, Margaret Ellis emerged wrapped in a blanket.
Emily ran.
Margaret nearly fell when Emily hit her.
“You’re crushing my ribs.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
Emily cried into her shoulder.
Margaret looked over at Roman.
He remained several feet away.
Guilt was written across his face.
Margaret crooked a finger.
“Come here.”
Roman approached.
She slapped him.
Emily gasped.
Roman did not move.
Margaret shook her hand.
“That hurt more than expected.”
“Margaret—”
“Quiet.”
She pointed at Roman.
“That is for terrible security.”
“Fair.”
“And this—”
She hugged him.
Roman froze.
“—is because you called the police instead of behaving like your father.”
Roman’s eyes closed.
Just once.
Then he hugged her back.
Authorities arrested two men at the warehouse.
One was the missing security officer.
The other worked for a private contracting company connected to Lakefront Capital.
Neither was Vittorio.
But one carried a phone.
On it were messages from Thomas Keller.
May you like
Keller was alive.
And ready to negotiate.
