Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO DIDN'T KNOW HIS OWN EMPIRE
Roman De Luca was halfway through a meeting when his security chief placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Claire Dawson standing outside her mother's house with Daniel Mercer.
Roman recognized the attorney immediately.
“Where did you get this?”
“Taken this morning. One of our people noticed a car following Miss Dawson.”
Roman's expression hardened.
“Why wasn't I told sooner?”
“We didn't know she was connected to Mercer until ten minutes ago.”
Roman picked up the photograph.
“Find out who is following her. Quietly. No contact unless she's in immediate danger.”
His security chief hesitated.
“And Anthony Vale?”
Roman looked up.
“What about him?”
“He asked for a copy of yesterday's cafe report. He also requested Miss Dawson's employment history.”
For the first time that morning, Roman's calm looked fragile.
“Why?”
“He says he's concerned about a potential reputational issue.”
“Then he can concern himself with the company's reputation and leave my sister's friends out of it.”
The security chief nodded.
Roman waited until the door closed before opening a drawer beneath his desk.
Inside was an old photograph of Evelyn Dawson.
She stood outside the bookstore, holding a ledger against her chest. On the back, she had written a date and a short message.
You can't fix a house by hiding the rot.
Roman had kept the photograph for twelve years.
He had never forgotten the promise he made her.
And he had never forgiven himself for breaking it.
That afternoon, he arranged to meet Claire at the bookstore.
The building stood between a closed tailor shop and a narrow brick passageway. Its windows were dusty, and a faded green awning hung crookedly above the door. Someone had removed the brass sign, leaving two pale rectangles on the brick.
Claire stood across the street with her grandmother's letter in her pocket.
Roman arrived alone, without the SUVs.
“You came,” he said.
“You asked.”
“I didn't know whether you would.”
“I don't know whether I should have.”
He accepted that without argument.
They entered through a side door using a key Claire's mother had found among the old papers. The shop smelled of dust, damp wood, and the faint sweetness of old coffee grounds embedded in the floorboards.
Claire moved slowly through the familiar space.
The counter was gone. The shelves had been stripped. A patch of pale paint marked the place where her grandmother's favorite clock had hung.
“I used to sit behind the counter doing homework,” she said. “Grandma would give me a cookie every time I finished a page.”
Roman listened.
“She told me books were the only things people could borrow without taking something away from someone else.”
He looked toward the empty shelves.
“She was a remarkable woman.”
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me why she lost everything.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“My family's property company had a financial officer named Victor Hale. He was stealing money through false invoices and fraudulent liens. Evelyn found evidence of it.”
“Anthony Vale was involved?”
“Anthony managed the portfolio. He claimed he didn't know about the theft.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I wanted to.”
Claire studied him.
“That isn't the same as answering.”
Roman looked down at the floor.
“No. It isn't.”
He explained that Evelyn had approached him privately with copies of the records. He had promised to investigate and protect her. Before he could confront the people involved, his father suffered a medical emergency. Roman was pulled into a succession crisis that consumed every hour of his life.
When he finally returned to Evelyn, the bookstore was being seized.
“I thought the legal team could reverse it,” he said. “I was told the debt was legitimate. I believed the people responsible would correct the mistake.”
“But they didn't.”
“No.”
“And my grandmother died believing you had abandoned her.”
Roman did not defend himself.
“Yes.”
Claire's anger was quiet, which made it more difficult to dismiss.
“You had money, lawyers, and power. She had a little bookstore and a stack of papers. How did you let them win?”
“Because I trusted the wrong people. And because I told myself I could fix it later.”
“Later came too late.”
“Yes.”
The admission sat between them.
Roman told her he had recently begun reviewing old company records after discovering irregularities in a separate property deal. Several names matched those in Evelyn's documents.
He believed Anthony Vale had been hiding evidence for years.
“But belief isn't proof,” Claire said.
“Exactly.”
She removed Daniel's envelope from her pocket.
“I haven't opened it.”
Roman looked at the handwriting.
His face went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“Daniel Mercer gave it to me.”
“Don't open it here.”
“Why?”
“Because if Anthony knows what your grandmother kept, this building may be the first place he searches.”
Claire's grip tightened around the envelope.
“You're telling me to trust you again.”
“No. I'm telling you to be careful. You can decide whether to trust me after you see what happens next.”
A sharp metallic sound came from the rear of the building.
Roman immediately stepped between Claire and the narrow hallway, then stopped himself before touching her.
“Stay where you are,” he said. “Please.”
A shadow moved beyond the doorway.
Roman called out, but no one answered.
His phone vibrated. The security chief was calling.
“Mr. De Luca, we have a problem. Someone accessed the archive server.”
“Which archive?”
“The records connected to the Dawson property.”
Roman stared at Claire.
“Can you identify the user?”
A pause.
Then the security chief answered.
“The access was authorized with your credentials.”
Roman went still.
Claire took one step away from him.
“Did you do it?”
“No.”
“Then someone wants me to believe you did.”
Before he could answer, a car engine roared outside. Tires scraped against the pavement, and the side door slammed.
Roman rushed to the entrance.
The street was empty.
When he returned, Claire was staring at her phone.
Someone had sent her a photograph of the envelope in her hand, taken from inside the bookstore.
Beneath it was a message.
ASK ROMAN WHAT HE DID AFTER YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S LAST PHONE CALL.
Claire looked at him.
“What's it talking about?”
May you like
Roman said nothing.
And for the first time since they met, Claire wondered whether his silence was protecting her—or protecting himself.
