Chapter 8 - THE TRUTH THAT COST HIM EVERYTHINGClaire did not speak to Roman for twenty-three days.
He did not call.
That surprised her.
The old Roman would have sent a car.
A lawyer.
Flowers.
Money.
An explanation she had not requested.
Instead he left her alone.
On the twenty-fourth day, a package arrived at Harbor Ridge.
No gift.
No apology letter.
Documents.
A sworn statement Roman had given federal investigators.
He had admitted meeting Thomas Bennett.
Admitted rejecting his evidence.
Admitted alerting Vincent DeLuca afterward because, at twenty-six, Roman believed Thomas was trying to extort the family.
That call may have led Charles Mercer and Salvatore to realize Thomas was still talking.
Roman’s statement potentially exposed him to obstruction-related scrutiny.
He gave it anyway.
Claire read every page.
At the bottom was one handwritten sentence.
You deserved the truth even if it made you hate me.
Claire folded the papers.
Lily watched her.
“Do you hate him?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means no.”
“Thank you, therapist.”
“I charge cookies.”
Claire looked at her sister.
“Dad might still be alive if Roman had listened.”
Lily’s expression became serious.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Dad might still be alive if a hundred people had done something different.”
“That doesn’t excuse Roman.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
Lily rolled closer.
“But you keep acting like forgiving him would mean saying what he did was okay.”
Claire stared.
“It doesn’t.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Lily shrugged.
“Maybe that you don’t want the worst thing somebody did at twenty-six to be the only thing they’re allowed to be forever.”
Claire hated when Lily was wise.
It was inconvenient.
Meanwhile, Roman dismantled parts of his own empire.
Three companies were sold.
Two closed.
One was seized.
Contracts built through corruption were surrendered.
Employees in legitimate divisions were protected through independent trusts.
Roman’s net worth dropped dramatically.
Newspapers called it the fall of the DeLuca empire.
Roman slept better.
Then came Salvatore’s offer.
His attorney requested a private proffer.
Salvatore wanted reduced sentencing.
In exchange, he claimed he could prove Roman ordered Thomas Bennett killed.
Claire heard through investigators.
The accusation hit like ice.
Roman denied it.
Claire wanted to believe him.
But twenty-three days earlier she had learned Roman once lied by omission about knowing her father.
What else could exist?
Federal agents produced an old recording.
A phone call.
Roman’s twenty-six-year-old voice.
Handle Bennett before my father finds out how far this went.
Claire felt sick.
It sounded terrible.
Roman’s attorney argued the sentence was being removed from context.
“What did you mean?” Claire demanded when she finally agreed to meet him.
They sat in the same conservatory where Vivian had first threatened her.
Roman looked exhausted.
“I meant get him out of New York.”
“What?”
“After I told my father about Thomas, I regretted it.”
Claire stared.
“I called Salvatore.”
“You told him to handle Dad.”
“I asked him to offer your father money and protection somewhere else.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
That answer startled her.
Roman continued.
“I expect investigators to prove it.”
The original recording continued.
Salvatore had preserved only the first sentence.
But telecommunications archives revealed another call minutes later.
A voicemail from Roman to Thomas.
Federal technicians restored part of it.
Roman’s younger voice filled the room.
Mr. Bennett, I made a mistake. Don’t go home. Don’t contact Mercer. I can get you somewhere safe. Call me.
Claire covered her mouth.
Thomas never returned the call.
He died that night.
Not two days later as Roman had remembered.
The police report date had been entered incorrectly in one archived summary.
Roman had tried to help.
Too late.
Claire looked at him.
“You never knew whether he heard this.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because trying to correct cowardice doesn’t erase it.”
Claire began crying.
Roman stayed where he was.
He did not touch her without permission.
“I hated myself for years,” he said. “Then eventually I found easier things to hate.”
“My father?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
Roman looked around the conservatory.
“My family.”
Then his eyes returned to her.
“Eventually myself.”
Claire wiped her face.
“You’re making it difficult to stay angry.”
“I can say something terrible if that helps.”
She laughed despite herself.
Roman smiled faintly.
The distance between them changed.
Not disappeared.
Changed.
Then Gabriel burst through the doors.
“Roman.”
Roman stood.
“What?”
“Salvatore escaped transport.”
Claire’s blood chilled.
“How?”
“Vehicle ambush.”
“Charles?”
“Still secured.”
“Where would Salvatore go?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Roman immediately understood.
“Maria.”
“No.”
“She’s safe.”
“Then?”
Gabriel looked at Claire.
“Lily.”
Claire’s body went cold.
Harbor Ridge went into lockdown.
But Salvatore had not gone there.
Instead, Lily received a call from an unknown number.
She answered.
Salvatore spoke calmly.
“I have something your father wanted Claire to see.”
Lily immediately alerted security.
The call was traced.
To Thomas Bennett’s grave.
Claire wanted to go.
Roman refused.
They argued for ninety seconds.
Claire won.
Police surrounded the cemetery from a distance.
Roman and Claire approached together.
Salvatore stood beside Thomas’s grave.
No weapon visible.
An envelope in his hand.
“You brought half the federal government,” he said.
“You tried to kill Claire,” Roman replied.
“I made a mistake.”
Claire laughed.
“You held a door shut while I froze.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“I was protecting my family.”
“My father was protecting his.”
That silenced him.
Salvatore held up the envelope.
“Thomas wrote this for Claire.”
“Then put it down,” Roman said.
Salvatore looked toward his nephew.
“You destroyed everything your father built.”
Roman nodded.
“Yes.”
“For a maid.”
“No.”
Roman looked at Claire.
“For the truth.”
Salvatore smiled sadly.
“You really have changed.”
“I should have changed sooner.”
Salvatore placed the envelope on Thomas’s grave.
Then reached inside his coat.
Agents shouted.
Roman pulled Claire behind him.
But Salvatore did not draw a gun.
He removed another photograph.
Roman recognized Vincent DeLuca.
Salvatore looked at it one last time.
Then dropped it.
He raised both hands.
“I’m done.”
Federal agents arrested him.
No shootout.
No final bloodbath.
Just an old man finally discovering there was nowhere left to hide.
Claire retrieved the envelope.
Inside was a letter Thomas had written shortly before his death.
She read it that evening with Lily.
The final lines broke both sisters.
If Claire ever reads this, tell her she was never responsible for keeping this family together. She has been carrying too much since her mother died. Tell her Lily is her sister, not her burden. And tell both my girls that the only debt I care about is the time I didn’t get enough of with them.
Claire cried until she couldn’t anymore.
Then she called Roman.
He answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
She closed her eyes.
“I think I’m ready to stop running from Christmas.”
Roman was quiet.
May you like
Then:
“So am I.”
