Chapter 5 - What Her Father Hid
Goliath refused to leave the fireplace.
He scratched twice.
Sniffed.
Then looked at Natalie as though waiting for the humans to catch up.
Liam crouched beside him.
“There’s something under there.”
Natalie wanted to say no.
She wanted one mystery in her life to remain ordinary.
A loose floorboard.
A mouse nest.
Old pipes.
Anything except another secret connected to organized crime.
Roman knelt painfully.
He ran his fingers along the floor.
One plank was slightly darker than the rest.
“Crowbar?”
Natalie remembered the tool cabinet beside the back door.
She returned with one.
Roman inserted it beneath the board.
The wood lifted.
Underneath was a narrow compartment lined with metal.
Inside sat a black document case.
Natalie stopped breathing.
Liam whispered, “Whoa.”
Roman looked at her.
“You want me to open it?”
“No.”
Natalie reached down herself.
The case was heavier than expected.
She placed it on the table.
A brass combination lock held it closed.
Three numbers.
Natalie stared.
Her father had loved numbers.
He had taught her multiplication with playing cards.
Taught her how to balance a checkbook before middle school.
His favorite number had always been seventeen.
“Seventeen,” she whispered.
“What?”
“His birthday. January seventeenth.”
She entered 117.
Nothing.
Roman waited.
Natalie looked toward the photograph.
Thomas had died on May 6.
She tried 506.
Click.
The lock opened.
Her eyes filled before she could stop them.
Roman stepped back.
“This is yours.”
Natalie lifted the lid.
Inside were three ledgers.
A sealed envelope.
A cassette recorder.
An old handgun.
And a photograph.
Natalie picked up the photo first.
Her father stood beside a man in an expensive suit outside a courthouse.
The man was older, broad-shouldered, unmistakably connected to Roman.
Same gray eyes.
Same jaw.
“My father,” Roman said.
“Vittorio Bellandi?”
Roman nodded.
Natalie had seen the name online years ago without registering it.
Real estate.
Shipping.
Construction.
Charitable foundations.
And rumors.
Many rumors.
She opened the envelope.
Her name was written across the front.
Natalie.
Her hands started shaking.
Inside was a letter.
She unfolded it.
My beautiful girl,
If you are reading this, then either I finally found the courage to tell you the truth, or I ran out of time.
Natalie stopped.
Liam watched her.
Roman said quietly, “You can read it later.”
“No.”
She continued.
I was never simply an accountant.
For sixteen years I handled finances for people whose names I deliberately kept away from you and your mother. I told myself I was only moving numbers. That lie became easier every year.
Then people started dying because of those numbers.
Natalie sat down.
Roman remained standing.
The letter continued.
Vittorio Bellandi trusted me more than he should have. Eventually I learned that people inside his organization were diverting money into narcotics operations he had forbidden. When I told him, we began collecting evidence.
We intended to turn it over to federal investigators.
But someone discovered what we were doing.
Natalie looked at Roman.
“Your father was going to cooperate with the government?”
Roman shook his head slowly.
“I never knew.”
She kept reading.
If anything happens to me, the evidence is in the ledgers.
Do not take them to local police.
Do not trust anyone who arrives claiming Vittorio sent them.
Most importantly, do not let the Bellandi family know where the original records are until you know which Bellandi is still fighting the people responsible.
Natalie’s fingers tightened around the paper.
There was more.
I am sorry for leaving this burden.
I tried to walk away from their world.
Sometimes walking away is not enough.
Take care of your mother.
Build a good life.
Do something useful with your hands.
Save people instead of helping destroy them.
I love you beyond anything I ever managed to say.
Dad.
Natalie lowered the letter.
For several seconds, she could not hear the storm.
She could not see the cabin.
She was nineteen again.
Standing beside her mother at Thomas Reed’s funeral.
The police had told them he fell asleep driving.
His vehicle went through a guardrail.
Accident.
That was the word everyone used.
Accident.
Natalie had believed it for twelve years.
Roman sat across from her.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
“Was my father murdered?”
Roman did not answer quickly.
That was answer enough.
Natalie stood.
“Was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Your family thought he stole from them.”
“My father never said he stole money. He said Thomas disappeared with something powerful enough to get people killed.”
“The ledgers.”
“Probably.”
“You grew up thinking my father was a thief?”
Roman nodded once.
Natalie’s eyes burned.
“And now?”
“Now I think my father protected the truth from me.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because he knew I would go looking for revenge.”
“That sounds like something your family understands.”
Roman accepted the hit.
“Yes.”
Liam suddenly asked, “Was Grandpa a bad guy?”
Natalie turned.
The question hurt more than anything.
She crouched beside him.
“No.”
Then she paused.
She had promised herself she would stop lying to him.
“Grandpa made bad choices.”
Liam looked at the ledgers.
“Like Dad?”
Natalie closed her eyes briefly.
“Different choices.”
Roman knelt carefully beside them.
“Your grandfather did something very brave at the end.”
Liam looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because people who tell dangerous truths when they could stay silent are brave.”
Liam considered that.
Then he nodded.
Goliath rested beside him.
Roman turned toward the ledgers.
“If these are what I think they are, they could identify the people who started the network I’ve been trying to destroy.”
“After twelve years?”
“Organizations inherit old crimes the way families inherit houses.”
Natalie looked at the documents.
“You think the counterfeit drugs are connected?”
“I think someone my father tried to stop survived.”
Roman opened the first ledger.
Pages of coded payments filled it.
Initials.
Shipping numbers.
Account references.
Roman turned pages rapidly.
Then stopped.
His face changed.
“What?”
He pointed.
T.R. had made notes beside certain transactions.
One set of initials repeated dozens of times.
E.W.
Natalie asked, “Who is E.W.?”
Roman said nothing.
“Roman.”
He looked up.
“Elias Ward.”
“Who is that?”
“My godfather.”
The words landed heavily.
“He was my father’s closest friend.”
Natalie stared.
“And now?”
Roman’s face became stone.
“Now he is chairman of Bellandi Maritime.”
“Your legitimate company?”
“One of them.”
“He controls your shipping?”
“Yes.”
“Which means he could move counterfeit medication.”
“Yes.”
Roman turned another page.
The final handwritten entry was dated two days before Thomas Reed died.
E.W. KNOWS.
IF V.B. DOESN’T MOVE FIRST, WE’RE BOTH DEAD.
Roman read it twice.
Natalie whispered, “V.B. Your father.”
“Yes.”
A low sound came from Roman.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Betrayal that had been waiting twelve years for a name.
His phone didn’t exist anymore.
His own men had taken it.
But he knew numbers.
Roman picked up the cabin’s old landline.
Natalie grabbed his wrist.
“You said phones were dangerous.”
“This one isn’t connected to you in any current system.”
“Who are you calling?”
“The only person I trust enough to find out whether I’m dead.”
Natalie almost smiled at the absurd sentence.
Roman dialed.
After three rings, a man answered.
“Hello?”
Roman said, “Anthony.”
Silence.
Then a sharp intake of breath.
“Roman?”
Natalie watched his face.
His brother’s voice became frantic.
“Jesus Christ. Roman, where are you? We were told—Calvin said—”
“What did Calvin say?”
“That your vehicle was found burned near Stroudsburg. He said there was blood. He said—”
“Who’s running things?”
Another silence.
“Elias.”
Roman’s eyes closed.
Of course.
Anthony continued.
“He called an emergency council. He says we have to prevent a war until your body is recovered.”
Roman looked at the ledger.
“Listen carefully. Elias Ward arranged the ambush.”
Anthony went silent.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Roman’s voice hardened.
“Do not confront him. Do not tell anyone I’m alive.”
“Where are you?”
“I’ll contact you.”
“Roman—”
The line suddenly clicked.
A second sound.
Someone had entered the call.
Roman heard it.
So did Natalie.
Then a calm older voice said:
“You always were difficult to kill, Roman.”
Roman went perfectly still.
Elias Ward.
Natalie didn’t need to be told.
Roman’s face said everything.
The voice continued.
“I suppose I should thank the nurse.”
Natalie’s stomach dropped.
Roman’s eyes snapped toward her.
Elias chuckled softly.
“Yes. I know exactly where you are.”
Goliath rose.
Outside, far down the mountain road, an engine began to grow louder.
Elias spoke one final sentence before the line died.
“Thomas Reed hid those books from me for twelve years.”
May you like
A pause.
“His daughter won’t keep them for twelve minutes.”
