Chapter 7 - One Dollar
Roman pushed Chloe behind a marble column.
People screamed.
Security alarms erupted.
The gunfire lasted less than fifteen seconds.
Long enough to destroy every illusion of safety.
Then the attackers disappeared.
Roman's security arrived almost immediately.
Police followed.
One bank guard had been wounded.
Nobody was killed.
Roman had a cut along his temple from flying glass.
Chloe's hands shook while she pressed gauze against it inside the back of an armored SUV.
“Hold still.”
“You're bleeding too.”
She looked at her arm.
Small cut.
“I've had paper cuts worse.”
Roman almost smiled.
Then his expression collapsed.
“My mother knew.”
“That somebody was watching the bank?”
“Yes.”
“She might have been protecting you.”
“She killed my father.”
Chloe stopped.
Roman looked through the dark window.
“I spent fifteen years believing his enemies took him.”
“Maybe in a way one did.”
Roman's eyes returned to her.
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe he made your mother his enemy.”
Silence.
Roman looked down at his hands.
“I built everything after he died because I thought I was preserving the family.”
“What if preserving your family means ending what he built?”
Roman did not answer.
The convoy traveled to a private medical office.
After his cut was treated, Roman received a secure address.
From Lucia.
No city.
Only coordinates.
Northern New Jersey.
Chloe expected him to go alone.
Instead Roman asked:
“Do you want to come?”
Her surprise must have shown.
“I'm learning,” he said.
“Apparently.”
Lucia lived in a small lakeside house under the name Louise Delaney.
When she opened the door, Chloe understood where Roman inherited his eyes.
Lucia was sixty-three.
Elegant.
Silver streaking dark hair.
She looked at Roman for a long moment.
“My son.”
Roman did not hug her.
Neither moved.
Then Lucia saw Chloe.
“You must be Thomas Mercer’s daughter.”
Chloe's pulse jumped.
“You know me?”
“I knew your mother.”
Another shock.
Roman entered.
The living room contained no luxury.
No guards.
No evidence this woman had once been married to one of New York’s most feared men.
Roman placed the ledger on the table.
“One dollar.”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You killed him.”
“Yes.”
Roman flinched as if she'd shouted.
Chloe remained silent.
Roman asked:
“How?”
“Poison.”
“Why?”
Lucia's expression changed.
“You know why.”
“No. I want to hear you say it.”
She looked at him.
“Because your father had decided Isabella would marry Gabriel Kessler.”
Roman went still.
“She was sixteen.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel was thirty.”
“Yes.”
Chloe's stomach turned.
“I refused,” Lucia continued. “Alessandro struck me. Then he struck Isabella.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“I remember.”
“He said the marriage would happen.”
Lucia’s voice trembled for the first time.
“That night I understood waiting would destroy both of you.”
“So you killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why the ledger?”
“I wanted Vincent to know I had proof of everything.”
“You paid yourself one dollar?”
Lucia almost smiled.
“Your father's rules.”
Roman looked away.
“You could have told me.”
“No.”
“Why does everyone in this family say that?”
“Because you were twenty-six and angry.”
“I deserved the truth.”
“Yes.”
The simple admission disarmed him.
Lucia continued.
“I made a terrible mistake after Alessandro died.”
“What?”
“I assumed removing him removed the disease.”
Her eyes moved toward the ledger.
“It didn't.”
Vincent Kessler inherited many of Alessandro's secret operations.
Roman inherited the public empire.
For years Vincent played loyal adviser while quietly siphoning cash, bribing officials, and rebuilding the parts Roman shut down.
“Why didn't you expose him?” Roman asked.
“Because Vincent had Isabella.”
Roman froze.
“What?”
“Not physically.”
Lucia looked toward the lake.
“He had evidence tying her to a financial crime she committed at nineteen to protect you.”
Isabella had falsified a customs record after Roman’s first company became the target of an investigation.
Vincent kept the original file.
“He blackmailed you?”
“For fifteen years.”
Roman looked sick.
Lucia turned toward Chloe.
“Thomas Mercer helped me understand Vincent's accounts.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“He risked everything for you.”
“He risked everything because he was a good man.”
Tears burned Chloe's eyes.
Lucia continued.
“He loved your mother desperately.”
Chloe looked down.
“I thought he left.”
“He never stopped trying to return.”
The truth hurt differently now.
Cleaner.
Still painful.
But no longer poisonous.
Roman walked toward the window.
Chloe followed.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I should kill Vincent.”
“Roman.”
“He destroyed your family. Mine.”
“Yes.”
“He put Tommy in your life.”
“Yes.”
“He ordered somebody to shoot at us today.”
“Yes.”
Roman turned.
“And you're going to tell me not to.”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“I'm going to ask what happens afterward.”
He stared.
“You kill Vincent.”
Chloe took a breath.
“Then Gabriel takes his place. Or Tommy. Or someone else.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“You told me strength creates responsibility.”
He remembered.
She continued.
“So decide what you want your strength to build.”
Roman looked past her toward his mother.
Then at the ledger.
“What if I destroy everything?”
“The criminal side?”
“All of it.”
“Your companies employ thousands of people.”
“Then I separate them.”
“Can you?”
“With time.”
Chloe nodded.
“Then maybe that's what comes after.”
Roman's phone rang.
Isabella.
He answered.
Her words were frantic.
“Roman, don't come back to Manhattan.”
“What happened?”
“Vincent made his move.”
“What move?”
“He called an emergency board meeting.”
Roman frowned.
“Of DeLuca Holdings?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He has proxy votes.”
“From whom?”
“Dad's old partners.”
Roman went pale.
Isabella continued.
“He's telling everyone you're compromised because of Chloe.”
Chloe's stomach tightened.
“And?”
“He has enough votes to remove you as CEO tomorrow.”
Roman said nothing.
Then Isabella added:
“He also has the mayor's office, two judges, and half our security executives.”
Lucia stood.
“What does Vincent want?”
Isabella answered through the speaker.
“Everything.”
Roman looked at Chloe.
For fifteen years, he had defended an empire he never truly wanted.
Now the man who had corrupted it was offering him a choice.
Fight for it.
Or burn it down.
Roman picked up the Black Harbor ledger.
“Call Mara.”
Isabella hesitated.
“Why?”
Roman's expression became calm.
“Because if Vincent wants my empire…”
May you like
He looked at Chloe.
“…I'm going to make sure there isn't one left for him to steal.”
