Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Walked Away
Adrian Romano had frightened judges, politicians, federal investigators, and men who carried guns for a living.
But I had never seen him look afraid of me.
Not until that night.
His eyes moved from my suitcase to my coat, then back to my face.
“You packed before tonight,” he repeated.
I wrapped one hand beneath my belly.
Our son shifted hard against my ribs.
“Yes.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Behind him, somewhere downstairs, Vivian laughed.
The sound floated through our bedroom as if she already belonged there.
I almost smiled.
Not because anything was funny.
Because twelve days earlier, that laugh would have destroyed me.
Now it only reminded me why I had to leave.
“Elena.” Adrian stepped into the room and closed the door. “What did you find?”
“You brought your mistress into my house and told me to accept her or leave.”
“That isn’t what I’m asking.”
“No.”
I looked directly at him.
“It isn’t.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
That was Adrian’s way.
Silence first.
Pressure second.
Threats only if necessary.
Nine years of marriage had taught me the order.
He softened his voice.
“Give me the suitcase.”
“No.”
His expression changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“Don’t make this difficult.”
I almost laughed.
“You slept with another woman for years, hid property through shell companies, brought her into our home while I’m seven months pregnant, and now you’re worried I’ll make things difficult?”
A muscle jumped near his temple.
“What documents did you access?”
There.
Not Why are you leaving?
Not Can we fix this?
Not even What are you talking about?
Documents.
My heart hardened another inch.
“So there are documents I shouldn’t have seen.”
“Elena.”
“What is Verona Holdings?”
His face went completely still.
That answer was louder than a confession.
I continued.
“What is Northstar Maritime? Why did Verona transfer seven million dollars to it last February? Why does a company with no employees own three warehouses near the Canadian border?”
His eyes sharpened.
“How do you know that name?”
“And why did your foundation pay consulting fees to men who don’t appear to exist?”
He moved fast.
Not violently.
Not yet.
But suddenly he was standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.
“Where are the copies?”
My baby kicked.
I stepped back.
Adrian noticed.
For one brief second, guilt crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
“Elena, listen carefully. There are things you don’t understand.”
“I understand my husband lies for a living.”
“This is bigger than our marriage.”
“That seems to be the theme tonight.”
He closed his eyes for half a second.
When he opened them, his anger was under control again.
“What you found could put you in danger.”
That almost sounded like concern.
I wanted desperately to believe it.
Nine years trained the heart to reach for familiar lies.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Vivian leaned against the frame.
She was still wearing Adrian’s dark sweater.
My husband’s sweater.
Her bare legs showed beneath it.
She looked at the suitcase.
Then at me.
“So you’re actually leaving?”
Adrian turned.
“I told you to stay downstairs.”
Vivian’s mouth tightened.
“I’m tired of being hidden downstairs.”
I looked between them.
There it was.
The real shape of their relationship.
Vivian wasn’t some disposable affair.
She believed she had rank.
Maybe she did.
She folded her arms.
“You should tell her, Adrian.”
His head snapped toward her.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
Vivian smiled.
“See? This is what he does. He decides what every woman in the room is allowed to know.”
“Vivian.”
“What should he tell me?”
She met my eyes.
And for the first time that night, I saw something beneath her confidence.
Resentment.
Not toward me.
Toward Adrian.
Interesting.
“You think Verona Holdings is about the affair?” Vivian asked.
“Enough.”
Adrian’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
Vivian ignored him.
“Verona existed before I ever slept with your husband.”
I felt cold despite the warmth of the room.
“What is it?”
Adrian grabbed Vivian’s arm.
Not hard enough to hurt her.
Hard enough to warn her.
“You’re done.”
She ripped free.
“No. I spent six years waiting for you to stop treating me like an employee with benefits.”
Employee.
The word struck me.
Vivian saw it.
She smiled without humor.
“That’s right, Elena. Ask your husband what I actually do for him.”
Adrian’s face became stone.
I looked at him.
“What does she do?”
“Elena, take your suitcase downstairs. Marco will drive you wherever you want to go.”
I froze.
He was letting me leave.
Too easily.
That scared me more than if he had locked the doors.
“Marco won’t be driving me.”
“You’re not taking a taxi at this hour.”
“I already arranged transportation.”
Another tiny shift in his face.
“Who?”
“That’s no longer your concern.”
Adrian stared at me.
Nine years of marriage.
He knew when I was bluffing.
And he knew I wasn’t.
“Who did you call?”
I reached for the suitcase.
He placed his hand on the handle first.
“Elena.”
“Move.”
“What did you do?”
“I prepared.”
“For what?”
“For the moment my husband finally became exactly who everyone warned me he was.”
That hurt him.
Good.
His hand loosened.
I pulled the suitcase free.
As I passed Vivian, she stepped aside.
Then she whispered something so quietly Adrian couldn’t hear.
“Don’t go to your father.”
I stopped.
My blood turned cold.
Vivian kept looking straight ahead.
“Why?”
Her lips barely moved.
“Because Adrian isn’t the only one hiding something.”
“Elena?”
Adrian’s voice came from behind us.
I looked at Vivian.
She gave me nothing else.
So I walked downstairs.
Every step felt unreal.
The mansion looked exactly the same.
The framed photographs.
The chandelier I had chosen in Florence.
The piano Adrian gave me for our fifth anniversary.
The Christmas photograph where his hand rested on my waist and he looked at me as though there had never been another woman.
Nine years reduced to objects.
Vivian’s wineglass sat beside my grandmother’s porcelain cup.
I stopped.
Then I picked up the cup.
Adrian came down behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“This was hers.”
“Elena.”
“My grandmother.”
I wrapped the porcelain cup in a linen napkin and placed it carefully in my suitcase.
Vivian watched from the staircase.
I looked at her.
“You can keep the sweater.”
Her cheeks colored.
Then I turned toward the front door.
Two of Adrian’s security men were standing beside it.
Neither moved.
Adrian descended the last step.
“Open the door.”
They obeyed immediately.
Cold Chicago air rushed inside.
A black SUV waited beyond the gates.
Not Adrian’s.
My ride.
Adrian noticed it.
His face changed.
“Who is that?”
I pulled on my coat.
The flash drive pressed against my ribs from the inside pocket.
“Someone who still remembers what loyalty means.”
The driver’s door opened.
A man stepped out.
Adrian stopped breathing.
So did Vivian.
My older brother, Gabriel DeLuca, walked toward the mansion.
I had not seen him in three years.
Not since Adrian told me Gabriel had betrayed both our families.
Not since my father ordered Gabriel’s name erased from every family gathering, every business meeting, every conversation.
Gabriel had always insisted Adrian framed him.
I hadn’t believed him.
Until twelve days ago.
Gabriel reached the front steps.
His eyes went to my stomach.
Then to the suitcase.
Then to Adrian.
“You told her to leave?”
Adrian’s voice was low.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Gabriel smiled.
“You said the same thing three years ago.”
“Get off my property.”
“I’m here for my sister.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.”
I looked at Adrian.
“You already told me to leave.”
His gaze snapped to mine.
“Elena, you don’t know what he is.”
Gabriel’s smile vanished.
“No, Adrian. She finally knows what you are.”
The security men shifted uneasily.
Adrian raised one hand.
They froze.
He looked at me.
“If you walk out that door with him, I can’t protect you.”
I thought about that for a moment.
Then I answered quietly.
“Maybe you’re the person I need protection from.”
His face broke.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
I walked past him.
Outside, Gabriel took my suitcase without asking.
He opened the passenger door.
Before I got in, Adrian called my name.
“Elena.”
I turned.
He stood beneath the chandelier, powerful and furious and suddenly alone.
Vivian hovered behind him.
“Whatever you copied,” he said, “don’t open it again.”
“Why?”
“Because people have died for less.”
The threat should have scared me.
Instead, it confirmed everything.
I got into Gabriel’s SUV.
He drove away without another word.
Only when the Romano mansion disappeared behind the trees did I realize my hands were shaking.
Gabriel noticed.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
He kept his eyes on the road.
“People who say they’re okay after something like that are usually about to fall apart.”
A laugh escaped me.
Then, unexpectedly, I started crying.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
Nine years came out at once.
Gabriel said nothing.
He simply drove.
When I finally stopped, he handed me a clean handkerchief.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“For crying?”
“For not believing you.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“We’ll deal with that later.”
“Vivian told me not to go to Dad.”
Gabriel went still.
“What?”
“She said Adrian isn’t the only one hiding something.”
Gabriel looked at me.
For the first time since he arrived, my brother seemed genuinely frightened.
“Elena, where is the drive?”
I touched my coat.
“With me.”
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re not going home.”
“Where are we going?”
He checked the rearview mirror.
A pair of headlights appeared behind us.
Then another.
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“Somewhere Adrian can’t find you.”
I turned and looked back.
Two black vehicles accelerated around the curve behind us.
“Are those his men?”
Gabriel reached beneath his coat.
“No.”
My pulse jumped.
“How do you know?”
“Because Adrian’s people don’t use motorcycles as escort.”
Only then did I see them.
Two motorcycles moved from behind the SUVs.
They were gaining on us.
Fast.
Gabriel pressed the accelerator.
“Elena, put your seat belt across the bottom of your belly. Stay low.”
“What’s happening?”
“The files you copied?”
“Yes?”
“They don’t belong only to Adrian.”
My mouth went dry.
“Then who do they belong to?”
Gabriel looked at me.
May you like
“The men who killed our mother.”
And behind us, the first SUV rammed our bumper.
