Chapter 3 - What Noah Buried With Their Mother
The cemetery gates were locked.
Roman’s driver did not seem particularly concerned by that fact.
Mara watched Ethan speak briefly to the night caretaker, who took one look at Roman Mercer through the tinted window and suddenly discovered a compelling reason to unlock them.
“You do this often?” Mara asked.
“Visit cemeteries?”
“Make rules disappear.”
Roman looked through the window.
“More often than I’m proud of.”
That was not the answer she expected.
Rain had softened to mist when they reached Eleanor Bennett’s grave.
Roman wanted Mara to remain inside the armored SUV.
She ignored him.
Again.
“You have a remarkable relationship with instructions,” he muttered.
“I spent years taking orders for tips. I’m enjoying retirement.”
“You retired twelve minutes ago.”
“Best twelve minutes of my professional life.”
Ethan coughed suspiciously.
Roman looked at him.
Ethan immediately walked farther away.
Mara knelt beside the headstone.
Her mother had been dead three years.
Cancer had taken almost everything before it took Eleanor herself: savings, energy, dignity, then eventually breath.
Noah had been twenty-six.
Mara twenty-four.
They had survived afterward by holding onto each other.
Until Noah disappeared too.
Mara reached beneath a small marble angel attached to the base.
There was the music box.
Wrapped in plastic.
Her hands shook.
“Noah.”
Roman crouched beside her.
“You knew it was here?”
“I put it here after Mom’s funeral. Noah said she would have hated the idea of us keeping expensive flowers alive for her, so we left this instead.”
She turned the tiny brass key.
Nothing happened.
Roman studied it.
“May I?”
She handed it over.
He examined the underside.
A screw had been replaced.
Ethan produced a multitool.
Inside the music box was a microSD card.
Mara stared.
“That’s it?”
Roman looked grim.
“People have died for smaller things.”
They returned to the vehicle.
Ethan inserted the card into an isolated laptop.
Encrypted folders appeared.
Hundreds.
One file was labeled:
MARA — IF NOAH FAILS
Her throat tightened.
Ethan opened it.
A video appeared.
Noah filled the screen.
Mara covered her mouth.
He looked exhausted but alive.
“Hey, Mare.”
Her eyes immediately filled.
No one had called her that since he disappeared.
“If you’re watching this, things went sideways.”
Roman turned away slightly, giving her an illusion of privacy.
Noah continued.
“I found financial records while doing contract security work for Vale Logistics. At first I thought it was tax fraud. It isn’t.”
Documents appeared beside him.
Payments.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officials.
Construction contracts.
Noah swallowed.
“Silas Vale has been buying people for years. But there’s something worse. He’s planning to frame Roman Mercer for a federal conspiracy, then eliminate him before trial.”
Mara slowly turned toward Roman.
His expression was unreadable.
Noah continued.
“Roman isn’t innocent. Don’t be stupid, Mara. But Vale is worse. And if Vale controls Chicago after Mercer falls, people are going to die.”
Roman almost smiled.
“Your brother had a charming way with words.”
Mara shushed him.
Noah leaned toward the camera.
“I made three copies. One goes to a federal contact. One stays hidden. The third—”
The video glitched.
Then resumed.
“If I disappear, trust nobody who already knows about the files.”
Mara’s heart sank.
Noah stared directly into the camera.
“Especially Roman Mercer.”
Silence filled the SUV.
Ethan slowly looked at his boss.
Mara did too.
Roman remained perfectly still.
“Well,” he said eventually. “That’s inconvenient.”
Mara moved away from him.
“Why did he say that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“You said Noah came to you.”
“He did.”
“And apparently afterward he recorded a video telling me not to trust you.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Then your brother learned something after our meeting.”
“Or he learned something during it.”
Ethan interrupted.
“We should leave.”
Headlights appeared beyond the trees.
Three vehicles.
Fast.
Roman looked once.
“Down.”
Gunfire shattered the rear window.
Mara screamed.
Roman threw himself over her.
The SUV accelerated.
Ethan fired through a reinforced opening while Roman kept Mara below the window line.
Glass covered his shoulder.
“Are you hit?” Mara shouted.
“No.”
Another impact rocked the vehicle.
They swerved around a monument.
Roman’s driver forced through the cemetery gates.
Two vehicles followed.
Chicago lights streaked beyond rain-covered windows.
Ethan shouted coordinates into his radio.
Mara’s hand landed against Roman’s chest.
Warm liquid covered her fingers.
“Roman.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Occupational inconvenience.”
“That is not a thing.”
“It is tonight.”
The pursuing vehicles finally broke away when two Mercer SUVs intercepted them.
Ten minutes later, they entered an underground garage beneath a Gold Coast mansion.
Roman climbed out.
Then staggered.
Mara caught his arm.
“You said you weren’t hit.”
“I said I was fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’ve been told the opposite.”
A doctor arrived.
The bullet had grazed Roman’s ribs.
Mara remained while he was stitched.
“You can leave,” Roman said.
“And go where?”
He had no answer.
She studied him.
“Why did you protect me with your body?”
“Instinct.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It’s what I have.”
She looked at the blood on his ruined shirt.
“Did you betray Noah?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt him?”
“No.”
“Do you know why he stopped trusting you?”
Roman hesitated.
“Yes.”
Mara stood.
“Tell me.”
Roman looked toward Ethan.
“Leave us.”
When they were alone, Roman buttoned a clean shirt slowly over the bandage.
“Your brother discovered that someone inside my organization was feeding information to Vale.”
“Who?”
“I never found out.”
“And?”
“He assumed it was me because the information Vale received came from my private office.”
Mara frowned.
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t Noah tell you?”
“Because someone showed him evidence that I ordered your father killed.”
Mara stopped breathing.
“My father died in a car accident.”
“No.”
Roman’s voice became quiet.
“He didn’t.”
The floor seemed to disappear.
Roman continued.
“Your father worked for me.”
Mara stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“He was my accountant.”
“No.”
“He discovered money disappearing from several companies.”
“No.”
“He confronted someone.”
“Stop.”
“Mara—”
“Stop.”
Her eyes burned.
“My father sold insurance.”
“That was what he told his family.”
She slapped Roman.
The sound cracked through the room.
Neither moved.
Mara’s hand trembled.
Roman did not touch his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“You knew who I was from the beginning.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Noah.”
“Yes.”
“And you walked across that ballroom pretending I was a stranger.”
“No.”
Roman stepped closer.
“I walked across that ballroom because six years ago I failed to save your father.”
His voice broke almost imperceptibly.
“And eight months ago, I failed to save your brother.”
Mara backed away.
Roman looked at her with something she had never expected to see in the eyes of Chicago’s most feared man.
Shame.
“That rifle wasn’t the first time I tried to protect you, Mara.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Roman answered quietly.
“I’ve been protecting you for six years.”
