Chapter 6 - The Traitor Behind the Gates
Roman evacuated the house before sunrise.
Mave objected.
He ignored her.
That was their first real fight.
“You cannot order me around.”
“I can when there's a security breach.”
“No, you can advise me.”
“I advise you to do exactly what I said.”
“That sounds suspiciously like an order.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Someone gave Hale information from inside my home.”
“And sending me somewhere else makes me safer?”
“Yes.”
“Unless the person arranging the somewhere else is the traitor.”
Roman stopped.
Mave folded her arms.
“Exactly.”
She hated that he looked impressed.
They changed strategy.
Nobody left.
Instead, Roman told only three senior people three different versions of where the ledger would be moved.
To his security chief, Carlo, he said a federal evidence locker.
To his house manager, Elena, he said Theodore's office.
To his longtime driver, Victor Dane, he said Mave's surviving storage unit.
Then they waited.
By afternoon, two men attempted to enter Theodore's office.
Elena had been the leak.
Roman took the betrayal personally.
Elena had managed his household for nine years.
When confronted, she didn't deny it.
Franklin had photographs of her son accepting money during a college drug deal. He'd threatened to send them to prosecutors and destroy the young man's career.
“You could have told me,” Roman said.
Elena cried.
“I was afraid.”
Roman looked older in that moment.
Not weaker.
Just tired of fear making everyone around him dishonest.
Mave spoke before he could.
“Did you tell Franklin where the original evidence is now?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him about the trap?”
“No.”
“Anything about Raymond Pike?”
Elena looked confused.
“The mechanic?”
Roman's attention sharpened.
“How do you know that name?”
Elena's face collapsed.
Franklin had asked about Pike days earlier.
Before Lena's investigators had found him.
That meant the leak wasn't only inside Roman's home.
It reached farther.
Possibly law enforcement.
Lena was notified immediately.
That evening, Mave received a message from Gemma.
I need to see you. Alone. Please.
Roman read it.
“No.”
Mave sighed.
“Your favorite word now?”
“Absolutely.”
Gemma sent a photograph.
She was sitting in a hospital.
Blood on her forehead.
Mave's anger vanished.
They went together.
Gemma had been sideswiped while driving.
Police called it an accident.
Roman didn't.
Neither did Mave.
Gemma was twelve weeks pregnant now.
The baby was unharmed.
When Mave entered, Gemma began crying.
“I didn't tell Franklin about the ledger.”
Mave stood near the door.
“Brandon said you did.”
“Brandon lies when breathing.”
“Fair.”
Gemma almost smiled.
Then winced.
“I told Franklin I thought you'd found something. That's all.”
“Why?”
“He threatened Brandon.”
Mave stared.
“You're protecting him?”
“I was.”
Gemma touched her stomach.
“I'm done.”
She handed Mave her phone.
Messages between Brandon and Franklin filled the screen.
One stopped Mave.
FRANKLIN: Marry her first. Gemma can wait.
Brandon:
She's carrying my child.
Franklin:
Then learn what generations of Hale men learned before you. Children are liabilities until they become useful.
Mave felt unexpectedly sick.
Not for Brandon.
For the baby.
Gemma whispered, “He wanted Brandon to marry you, gain control, transfer the property, then divorce you later.”
Mave looked at her.
“And you knew?”
“Not until after I got pregnant.”
“But you still stood beside me at the wedding.”
Tears slid down Gemma's face.
“I was a coward.”
“Yes.”
Gemma nodded.
No defense.
No excuse.
“I loved him.”
“So did I.”
“I know.”
That hurt them both.
Gemma looked at Roman.
“Franklin is scared of something called North Star.”
Roman's face changed.
“What?”
“He kept saying it to Brandon. ‘If Vescari finds North Star, we're finished.’”
Roman walked into the hall and called Theodore.
Mave stayed.
Gemma wiped her cheeks.
“I don't expect you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“But I am sorry.”
“I believe you.”
Gemma looked up hopefully.
“Believing you're sorry isn't the same as forgiving you.”
“I know.”
Mave turned to leave.
“Mave?”
She stopped.
“If something happens to me…”
“Don't.”
“Please.”
Gemma's hand rested over her stomach.
“Don't let Franklin raise my baby.”
Mave couldn't answer.
She left.
Roman was waiting.
“North Star was one of Patrick's project names,” he said.
“For what?”
“A trust.”
Mave frowned.
“My father didn't have enough money for some secret trust.”
“Not a financial trust.”
Roman explained.
Patrick had quietly organized property owners being pressured by Franklin. They called themselves North Star because Patrick told them to keep moving toward one fixed point no matter how lost they became.
Several had evidence.
Together, they might prove a pattern.
“Where are they?”
“Most sold and left Chicago.”
“Find them.”
Roman watched her.
“That's a large request.”
“You offered me revenge.”
“I distinctly remember correcting you.”
“Fine. You offered options.”
She stepped closer.
“Find me North Star.”
Roman did.
Over the next five days, they found four former owners.
A laundromat operator in Arizona.
A retired teacher in Michigan.
Two brothers who once owned a warehouse in Chicago.
Each told the same story.
Inspections.
Threats.
Financial pressure.
Then low offers from Franklin Hale.
One had something more.
A voicemail.
Patrick Callahan.
Recorded the evening before he died.
His voice filled Roman's library.
“If something happens, don't let Franklin tell them I was imagining this. I've got Pike's statement. I've got the payment record. Roman knows part of it. Mave knows nothing. Keep her out of it.”
Mave closed her eyes.
Her father's voice.
Eleven years gone.
Still protecting her.
The retired warehouse owner, Henry Moss, spoke through the laptop.
“Patrick was scared that night.”
“Did he say why?” Mave asked.
“Yes.”
Henry hesitated.
“He said somebody had offered Franklin a way to solve the Callahan problem permanently.”
Roman leaned toward the screen.
“Who?”
“He didn't give me a name.”
Mave's hope fell.
Henry continued.
“But Patrick said he recorded the meeting.”
Everyone froze.
“Recorded where?” Lena asked.
Henry shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Mave thought about the metal box.
Ledger.
Photos.
Flash drive.
Letter.
The flash drive.
They had copied its contents but found only accounting files.
Or so they thought.
Roman's technology specialist examined it again.
There was a hidden partition.
One audio file.
Eleven years old.
They played it.
Patrick's voice.
Franklin's.
Then a third man.
Mave didn't recognize him.
Roman did.
His face went white.
Mave looked at him.
“Who is that?”
Roman didn't answer.
“Roman?”
He replayed three seconds.
Then closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something inside him had hardened into fury.
“My brother.”
Mave stared.
Roman's younger brother, Alessandro Vescari, had supposedly died nine years ago in Europe.
The recording continued.
Franklin spoke.
Patrick won't sell.
Alessandro answered.
Then stop asking him.
A pause.
Then:
Accidents happen every day in Chicago.
Mave's hand flew to her mouth.
Roman stood absolutely still.
May you like
His own brother had helped arrange her father's death.
And for eleven years, Roman had never known.
