Chapter 7 - THE LAST WAR
Harper hit the floor.
Roman covered her instinctively as glass rained across the carpet.
Marco burst through the door.
“Move!”
Smoke poured from the building across the avenue.
The explosion had not come from their hotel.
A sniper had fired through the penthouse window at the exact moment an explosive device detonated elsewhere as distraction.
Roman dragged Harper behind a concrete wall.
“Victor?”
Marco shook his head.
“He’s in federal custody.”
“Then who?”
Harper already knew.
“Isabella.”
Roman looked at her.
“She warned us about another player.”
“She lied.”
Harper remembered the warehouse.
Isabella had controlled the timing.
She had disappeared before the second attack.
Victor was guilty.
But perhaps he had never been the architect.
Perhaps Isabella had used him exactly as he had used everyone else.
Roman’s phone rang.
A video arrived.
Isabella sat inside Roman’s former office.
Behind his desk.
Harper recognized the skyline.
The building had been evacuated after the attacks.
Apparently not well enough.
Isabella looked directly into the camera.
“Come home, Roman.”
The video ended.
Roman stood.
“No.”
Harper stared at him.
“No?”
“That building is designed around my habits. My entrances. My security protocols. She knows them.”
Harper understood.
“It’s a trap.”
“Yes.”
“So we don’t enter through your route.”
Roman looked at her.
Slowly, he smiled.
“You know another?”
“I spent two years arranging maintenance.”
The sixty-fourth floor had a service elevator Roman never used because it smelled faintly of machine oil.
Harper had used it hundreds of times.
Two hours later, they entered through the mechanical floor.
Roman had ordered most of his men to remain behind.
Not because he wanted to be heroic.
Because Harper reminded him that fifty armed men charging a skyscraper was exactly the kind of stupid spectacle old Roman would have chosen.
Marco came.
Luca came too.
“I was kidnapped once this week,” Luca said. “I’m emotionally invested.”
They reached the office corridor.
The temperature was sixty-four degrees.
Harper almost laughed.
Roman heard the air-conditioning.
“Don’t.”
“I said nothing.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Growth.”
They entered.
Isabella stood beside the windows.
No guards.
No gun visible.
“You came,” she said.
Roman stopped ten feet away.
“Why?”
Isabella looked at Harper.
“Because she was right.”
Harper frowned.
“About what?”
“You are toxic.”
Roman exhaled.
“This week has been educational.”
Isabella’s expression hardened.
“You buried me.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“You stopped searching.”
“Victor showed me dental records. Police reports. Security footage.”
“You believed him.”
“Yes.”
The honesty seemed to hurt Isabella more than denial would have.
She reached into her coat.
Marco raised his weapon.
“Don’t.”
Isabella slowly removed a flash drive.
“Everything is here.”
Harper stared.
“Everything?”
“Victor’s accounts. Judges. Contractors. Smuggling routes. Offshore holdings. Enough evidence to destroy what remains of the old organization.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because I spent three years planning revenge and discovered revenge requires you to keep living inside the thing that hurt you.”
She looked exhausted.
“Victor kept me isolated for eighteen months. After I escaped, I could have gone to authorities.”
“But you didn’t,” Harper said.
“I wanted Roman to suffer.”
Roman accepted the words.
Isabella continued.
“I wanted his organization gone. His brother turned against him. His employees afraid of him. I wanted him alone.”
Harper understood.
“You manipulated the office.”
“The missing files. Changed schedules. Water shipments. Cleaning staff.”
Roman looked almost embarrassed.
Harper whispered, “The pen?”
Isabella nodded.
“I moved it.”
Harper covered her mouth.
Luca began laughing.
Roman looked betrayed.
“You caused six months of internal investigations over a pen?”
“It was surprisingly effective.”
Even Marco looked amused.
Roman closed his eyes.
“This family needs therapy.”
Harper stared at him.
“Write down the date.”
Then Isabella’s expression changed.
“There is one problem.”
Of course there was.
“What?” Roman asked.
“Victor had a contingency plan.”
She looked at the clock.
“At midnight, copies of the organization’s records are sent automatically to every rival family on the East Coast unless his server receives an authorization code.”
Roman checked the time.
11:41 p.m.
“Where is the server?”
Isabella looked down.
“Basement level six.”
Harper groaned.
“Why is everything dramatic with you people?”
They ran.
The server room required three biometric credentials.
Roman.
Luca.
Victor.
Victor was in federal custody thirty miles away.
Harper studied the panel.
“There’s another way.”
Roman looked at her.
“You know how to bypass it?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Harper pointed to the maintenance cabinet.
“But I know the building manager.”
At 11:57, a terrified engineer named Mr. Patel arrived remotely through a secure video connection.
At 11:59, Harper bypassed the biometric system through an emergency maintenance reset.
The server shut down with nine seconds remaining.
Silence filled the basement.
Luca sat on the floor.
“I would like a less stressful family business.”
Roman looked at Harper.
“I’m considering bakeries.”
“You’d fire someone because the croissants weren’t symmetrical.”
“I’m improving.”
Isabella stood near the door.
Federal agents waited upstairs.
She had agreed to surrender.
Before leaving, she faced Roman.
“I did love you once.”
Roman’s expression softened.
“I know.”
“I hated you longer.”
“I know.”
She looked toward Harper.
“Don’t confuse his potential with his behavior.”
Harper nodded.
“I won’t.”
Isabella left.
Roman and Harper remained in the humming server room.
He looked at her.
“The organization ends tonight.”
Harper studied him.
“What happens to Roman Rossi without it?”
“I have no idea.”
For once, uncertainty did not frighten him.
May you like
Harper smiled.
“That sounds healthy.”
