Chapter 6 - A Kiss Before the BetrayalRoman read the message twice.
Then he deleted nothing.
He forwarded it to Daniel and Marco.
"Trace it."
Marco nodded.
I stood beside the kitchen island.
"Why do they want me?"
Roman looked at me.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie."
His expression hardened.
"I'm not."
I held out my hand.
"Give me the phone."
He hesitated.
"Roman."
Finally, he passed it over.
I studied the photograph.
The little girl was sitting beside a window.
A stuffed rabbit rested in her lap.
Behind her stood a woman wearing a hospital identification badge.
I enlarged the image.
My breath caught.
"That's not Elena."
Roman leaned closer.
"What?"
"The woman in the background."
He looked.
I pointed toward the badge.
"She's wearing a Saint Agnes uniform."
Roman frowned.
"Saint Agnes closed four years ago."
"Exactly."
The photograph wasn't recent.
Someone had deliberately sent Roman an old image.
But why?
Daniel called minutes later.
"The message originated from a disposable phone. No location."
"Can you identify the photograph?"
"I'm trying."
Roman ended the call.
I looked at him.
"Someone wants you to panic."
"They have my daughter."
"Maybe."
His eyes flashed.
"Don't."
"Roman, listen to me."
He stepped closer.
"That's my little girl."
I swallowed.
"I know."
"No, Cara. You don't."
The words struck hard.
I stepped backward.
"You're right."
His expression changed immediately.
"Cara—"
"No. I don't know what it's like to lose a child."
I took a breath.
"But I know what it's like to lose a mother. I know what it's like to spend years wondering whether there was something I could have done differently."
He said nothing.
"And I know that whoever sent that photograph is counting on you making a mistake."
Roman closed his eyes.
When he opened them, his anger was gone.
"You're right."
I almost smiled.
"That must have hurt."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"More than you know."
By afternoon, Daniel had identified the photograph.
It had been taken at a private pediatric rehabilitation center in Wisconsin.
Five years earlier.
The little girl was not six.
She was approximately one.
Her appearance had been digitally altered to make her look older.
Roman stared at the evidence.
"Then we don't know what she looks like now."
"No," Daniel said.
"But we know where she was."
The rehabilitation center belonged to a charitable foundation.
A foundation controlled by Viktor Orlov.
Natalia's uncle.
Roman's face went cold.
"Get the cars."
I found him in the garage thirty minutes later.
He was loading a pistol.
"You're going to kill someone."
He didn't deny it.
"Roman."
"Go inside, Cara."
"No."
He looked up.
"Please."
I crossed my arms.
"You don't get to tell me you care about me and then disappear into the night like some tragic movie character."
His expression softened.
"This is dangerous."
"So is loving you."
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Silence filled the garage.
Roman slowly set down the gun.
"What did you say?"
My cheeks burned.
"Nothing."
"Cara."
I looked away.
He approached, stopping close enough that I could feel his warmth.
"Look at me."
I did.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Roman whispered, "I don't deserve you."
"That's not your decision."
He lifted his hand slowly.
This time, I didn't flinch.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
"May I kiss you?"
My heart hammered.
I nodded.
His mouth touched mine gently.
No force.
No urgency.
Just a quiet, devastating tenderness that made six months of fear and confusion fall away.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
"I don't know how to do this," he whispered.
"Neither do I."
For a moment, the world seemed almost peaceful.
Then Marco appeared.
"Boss."
Roman turned.
"What?"
Marco's face was grim.
"We found the person who sent the photograph."
"Who?"
Marco looked at me.
Then back at Roman.
"Frankie Lombardo."
Frankie was gone by the time Roman's men reached his apartment.
His bank accounts had been emptied.
His passport was missing.
And the surveillance footage from the Cavalli estate showed him entering the security office two nights earlier.
He had access to everything.
My catering contracts.
Lily's address.
Roman's private telephone number.
Even the nursery.
I sat beside Roman as Daniel reviewed the footage.
Frankie had worked for the Cavalli family for seventeen years.
Roman had trusted him.
"Why?" I whispered.
Roman's jaw tightened.
"Money. Power. Fear."
Then Daniel opened another file.
A recording.
Frankie stood in an underground parking garage speaking with Natalia.
Her voice was unmistakable.
"The girl knows too much."
Frankie nodded.
"What about Roman?"
Natalia smiled.
"Let him fall in love with her."
I felt sick.
Frankie looked confused.
Natalia continued.
"When he finally believes he has something worth living for, we'll take it away."
The recording ended.
Roman stared at the screen.
Then he looked at me.
And I understood.
May you like
I wasn't merely a witness.
I had become the next weapon they intended to use against him.
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