Chapter 5 - THE PARCHMENT AND THE POISONED TEA
“That’s a lie!” Sam shouted, struggling against his zip-ties to defend the girl he had just met.
Victoria backhanded my brother across the face. His head snapped back.
I gasped, nearly pushing the door open, but Roman clamped a strong hand over my mouth, holding me back in the shadows. He shook his head, his eyes burning with a terrifying focus. We had to wait for the right moment.
Rose was weeping silently, staring up at Victoria. “My grandmother said my father loved my mother.”
“Your grandmother was a sentimental old fool,” Victoria laughed coldly. She unfolded the heavy parchment. “This is a contract. Signed nineteen years ago by Roman DeLuca. He agreed to surrender all rights to his unborn child in exchange for three million dollars and full control of the family business.”
Roman stiffened beside me. I could feel the shock radiating off him.
Victoria held the paper so Rose could see the signature at the bottom.
“Your father didn’t want you, Rose,” Victoria whispered venomously. “He wanted the crown. He let his father dispose of your mother so he could be king.”
Rose broke down, burying her face in her knees. The emotional devastation was complete. She finally believed the lie that her father was a monster.
“Victoria, enough,” her father, Vincent, snapped from the armchair. “Don’t play with the hostages. We need them alive to make the trade.”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “They’ll be alive. But I’m making sure the girl hates him before we hand her over.”
In the shadows, Roman looked at me. He pointed to his chest, then pointed to the door. He was going in. He handed me his cell phone, typing out a quick message to Silas: Breach the east windows in 60 seconds.
Roman kicked the heavy wooden doors open.
The massive doors slammed against the walls like a thunderclap.
Victoria screamed, dropping her wine glass. Vincent leaped from his armchair, reaching for his weapon.
Roman didn’t hesitate. He leveled the hunting rifle directly at Vincent’s chest.
“Touch the gun, Vincent, and you die in my library,” Roman said, his voice a low, lethal growl.
Two of Vincent’s guards rushed into the room, but before they could raise their weapons, the glass of the east windows shattered inward.
Silas and a dozen heavily armed DeLuca enforcers swarmed into the room, laser sights pinning the Hale men to the wall.
The standoff was over in seconds. The Hale syndicate was completely outgunned on DeLuca territory.
Roman kept his eyes locked on Victoria. He walked forward, his presence suffocating the room.
I ran in behind him, dropping to my knees beside Sam and Rose. I pulled a pocketknife from my apron and slashed through their zip-ties.
“Claire!” Sam hugged me tight, shaking uncontrollably.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, crying into his shoulder.
I turned to Rose. She looked terrified, scooting away from Roman.
Roman ignored Victoria for a moment and knelt in front of his daughter. The ruthless mafia boss looked incredibly fragile as he gazed at the teenager who had his mother’s eyes.
“Rose,” Roman whispered.
“Don’t touch me!” Rose screamed, pointing at the parchment on the floor. “You sold us! You let my mother die!”
Roman picked up the heavy parchment. He looked at the signature at the bottom.
He didn’t get angry. He just looked profoundly sad.
“This is my signature, Rose,” Roman said softly.
Victoria smiled triumphantly.
But Roman stood up and turned the paper over.
“I signed this nineteen years ago,” Roman explained to his daughter. “But not to sell you.”
He held it up to the light.
“This is the original partnership agreement for my first restaurant. My father forced me to sign it when I was twenty-one.” Roman turned his furious gaze on Victoria. “You forged the front of this document. You used an old signature page to make a fake contract.”
The reversal hit Victoria like a physical blow. Her smile vanished.
“She’s a liar, Rose,” Roman said gently. “I didn’t know you existed until tonight. If I had known, I would have burned this city to the ground to find you.”
Rose stared at him, the truth finally breaking through the lies. She lunged forward, throwing her arms around Roman’s neck.
Roman dropped the rifle and caught her, holding his daughter for the very first time, burying his face in her hair.
I smiled, holding my brother’s hand.
But the touching moment was shattered by a dry, rasping cough.
We all turned.
Vincent Hale, Victoria’s father, had collapsed back into his armchair. He was clutching his throat, his face turning a horrific shade of blue.
“Dad?” Victoria panicked, rushing to him.
Vincent gasped for air, his eyes rolling back in his head. He convulsed violently, knocking over a silver tea tray that had been sitting on the side table.
I stared at the overturned teapot.
Victoria dropped to her knees, screaming. “Help him! Somebody help him!”
Roman stepped forward, checking Vincent’s pulse. He looked up, his face grim.
“He’s dead,” Roman said.
Victoria wailed, turning her furious, tear-stained face toward Roman. “You killed him! You poisoned him!”
“I didn’t touch him,” Roman said coldly.
But as Silas stepped forward to secure the body, his boot crunched on something lying in the spilled tea.
Silas bent down and picked it up with a gloved hand.
It was a small, empty glass vial.
And tucked neatly underneath the vial, soaked in tea, was a handwritten note.
May you like
Silas read it aloud, his voice echoing in the dead silence of the room.
“This is for Maria. The debt is paid. — Dorothy Lane.”
