Chapter 5 - The Dead Brother
Nora showed Roman the photograph.
He did not react for several seconds.
Then the phone slipped from his hand.
Roman Bellini had built an empire around control.
That photograph destroyed it.
“Luca.”
The name emerged like a prayer.
Nora picked up the phone.
The image showed a thinner man with a beard, standing beside a newspaper dated three days earlier.
“It could be fake.”
“It isn’t.”
“How can you know?”
Roman pointed toward Luca’s left wrist.
A pale scar crossed it.
“Bike accident. He was twelve.”
Tommy entered.
Roman handed him the phone.
Tommy went white.
“My God.”
Victor called again.
This time Roman answered.
“What do you want?”
Victor chuckled.
“Finally.”
“Let him go.”
“You sound emotional.”
“Victor.”
“Remember when emotion used to embarrass you?”
Roman’s hand tightened around the phone.
Nora watched him fight every instinct that had once ruled him.
“What do you want?”
“The flash drive.”
“The police have it.”
“Then get it back.”
“Impossible.”
Victor paused.
“Nothing is impossible for Roman Bellini.”
A muffled voice sounded behind him.
Roman froze.
Luca.
“Roman?”
The line went dead.
Roman stared at the phone.
Nora touched his sleeve.
He looked at her hand as though it were something sacred.
Then the old Roman returned.
Only for a second.
His eyes went empty.
“Tommy. Get everyone.”
Nora stepped in front of him.
“No.”
“Nora.”
“You’re about to start a war.”
“He has my brother.”
“That is exactly what he wants.”
Roman’s jaw clenched.
“He kept Luca alive for three years.”
“Why?”
Roman stopped.
That question changed everything.
Why keep a supposed murder victim alive?
They investigated.
The answer emerged piece by piece.
Luca had discovered Victor’s plan before the explosion. He had escaped the car moments before it detonated, but Victor’s men captured him.
They kept him hidden because Luca knew where Victor’s financial records were stored.
But Luca had never talked.
Victor had staged his death and allowed Roman to destroy rival crews in retaliation.
Every act of vengeance had strengthened Victor.
Roman sat silently while Tommy explained.
“He used you.”
Roman stared through the window.
“Yes.”
Nora expected rage.
Instead Roman looked exhausted.
“I killed people for him.”
No one answered.
Roman stood.
“We do this through the police.”
Tommy blinked.
“Boss?”
“You heard me.”
“What if they’re too slow?”
“Then we make them faster.”
Nora almost laughed.
There was still Roman inside the reformation.
Just redirected.
The rescue operation unfolded forty-eight hours later.
Victor wanted the flash drive delivered to an abandoned riverfront printing factory.
Police fitted Roman with a wire.
Nora was forbidden from going.
She went anyway.
Not inside.
She sat in the command vehicle beside detectives, listening through Roman’s microphone.
Victor’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“You look older.”
“You look disappointing.”
Even terrified, Nora nearly smiled.
Victor laughed.
“You always did have style.”
“Where is Luca?”
“Where is the drive?”
Roman lifted the decoy.
Then Luca’s voice came through.
“Don’t give him anything.”
Nora covered her mouth.
Victor struck him.
Roman’s breathing changed.
The detective beside Nora whispered, “Stay calm.”
Roman did.
That might have saved everyone.
Victor demanded Roman confess that Nora had betrayed him.
Roman refused.
Then Victor made his mistake.
He bragged.
About the explosion.
About manipulating Roman.
About keeping Luca prisoner.
Everything went through the wire.
The police moved.
Gunfire erupted.
Nora heard shouting.
Then silence.
“Roman?”
No answer.
Her heart stopped.
“Roman?”
Still nothing.
She opened the vehicle door.
A detective grabbed her.
“Stay inside!”
Then a figure emerged from the warehouse.
Roman.
Blood covered his white shirt.
Nora stopped breathing.
But the blood was not his.
He was carrying Luca.
Ambulances rushed forward.
Roman lowered his brother onto a stretcher.
Luca opened his eyes.
“You took your time.”
Roman laughed.
Then he cried.
Right there beneath flashing police lights.
He bent over his brother and cried like the thirty-seven-year-old man he might have been if power had never taught him that grief was weakness.
Nora watched from twenty feet away.
Roman eventually looked up.
Their eyes met.
He did not call her.
Did not reach for her.
Did not assume she belonged beside him.
Nora walked over anyway.
She took his hand.
Only for a moment.
But Roman understood.
Victor survived the raid.
He was arrested.
The nightmare should have ended there.
It did not.
Three days later, federal prosecutors arrived at Roman’s office.
He had promised consequences.
Now they had come to collect.
And Nora discovered Roman had negotiated one condition before agreeing to testify.
May you like
Not immunity for himself.
Protection for her.
