Chapter 6 - THE MESSAGE FROM TWELVE YEARS AGO
Roman survived.
The bullet passed through his side without striking anything vital, though the doctors warned recovery would take time.
Lena stayed at the hospital anyway.
Not because she owed him.
She told herself that repeatedly.
She stayed because someone needed to make sure the impossible man actually followed medical instructions.
Roman hated medical instructions.
“You're supposed to rest,” Lena said on the third morning.
“I am resting.”
“You're on the phone threatening somebody.”
“I can multitask.”
“You have stitches.”
“So does a baseball.”
Lena stared at him.
“That doesn't even make sense.”
Roman put down the phone.
“Pain medication.”
For the first time since the bathroom, Lena laughed without immediately feeling afraid of what came afterward.
Her ribs still hurt, but the doctors said she was healing.
Maya had gone home with police protection.
Derek was in federal custody.
Victor Salerno had been arrested before reaching the helicopter, though his attorneys were already attempting every legal maneuver possible.
The leaked files changed everything.
Officials resigned.
Investigations opened.
Banks froze assets.
For the first time, Salerno appeared on television not as a respected businessman but as the center of a criminal conspiracy.
Roman's own organization came under renewed scrutiny too.
He seemed almost relieved.
“This is your chance,” Lena told him.
“For what?”
“To leave.”
Roman looked through the window.
“I was born into it.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He glanced at her.
She continued.
“You keep acting like being Roman DeLuca means you have to spend the rest of your life cleaning up your father's wars.”
“You don't know what I've done.”
“No.”
“Some of it isn't pretty.”
“I believe you.”
That seemed to surprise him.
Lena sat beside the bed.
“But someone once convinced me that my worst moments were the only parts of me that mattered.”
Roman studied her.
“Derek.”
“Yes.”
“He was wrong.”
“So maybe Victor was wrong about you.”
Silence stretched between them.
Roman looked away first.
Nico entered carrying Lena's old phone inside an evidence bag.
“Found something.”
Lena straightened.
“What?”
“The wrong number.”
Roman's eyes narrowed.
Nico connected the phone to a laptop.
“Amelia programmed an emergency contact protocol into an old messaging application. It was supposed to activate when Lena typed certain phrases.”
“What phrases?” Roman asked.
Nico looked at Lena.
“Words related to immediate danger. Couldn't breathe. Hurt. Help. Broken ribs.”
Lena went cold.
“My mother predicted this?”
“No.”
Nico shook his head.
“She built a general emergency system.”
He pointed at the screen.
“When those words were entered, the software automatically redirected the message to Roman's number.”
Lena stared at him.
“So I never mistyped Maya.”
“No.”
Roman sat very still.
“Why me?”
Nico opened another hidden file.
A scheduled message appeared.
Recorded twelve years earlier.
Amelia's face filled the screen again.
This time she looked younger than in the first video.
Less frightened.
“Roman, if you're watching this, Lena reached you.”
Roman's expression changed.
Amelia continued.
“I pray she never has to.”
Lena's throat tightened.
“You once asked me why I trusted you when you were barely more than a boy.”
Roman looked down.
“The answer is simple. Your father taught you to be dangerous. Your mother taught you to be kind. I hope the second lesson survives the first.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Lena watched him.
Amelia smiled sadly.
“If Lena is in danger, don't make her part of your world.”
A pause.
“Help her build her own.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Finally Nico cleared his throat.
“There's more.”
Another document opened.
A property deed.
A house in Maine.
Thirty acres.
Registered under a trust belonging to Lena.
“I own this?”
“Apparently.”
Nico opened a bank account.
Lena nearly stopped breathing.
Her mother had quietly saved enough money to give Lena a completely independent life.
“Why didn't I know?”
“Thomas Creed controlled the trust,” Nico said. “He hid it.”
Lena felt rage rise.
For years she had struggled.
Worked two jobs.
Stayed with Derek partly because he convinced her she couldn't survive financially without him.
All while her mother had left her a path out.
Roman noticed her expression.
“Don't give Derek the satisfaction of making that money the reason you leave him.”
She looked at Roman.
“You already left before you knew.”
Lena swallowed.
He was right.
She had sent the message before knowing about any money.
The real escape had happened on the bathroom floor.
The money just meant she could choose where to go next.
Days later, Roman was discharged.
Lena expected his black SUVs to carry him back to some fortified mansion.
Instead, he asked her to walk outside with him.
Rain had stopped.
Spring sunlight touched the hospital entrance.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Victor goes to trial.”
“And you?”
“I'm shutting down parts of my organization.”
“Parts?”
He gave her a look.
“Rome wasn't demolished in a day.”
She smiled.
“That's not the expression.”
“It is now.”
He became serious.
“My legitimate companies stay. Anything I can't defend under oath goes.”
“That sounds almost responsible.”
“Don't spread it around.”
Lena looked down.
“What about us?”
The question surprised both of them.
Roman took a moment before answering.
“You don't owe me a relationship because I came when you called.”
“I know.”
“You don't owe me gratitude.”
“I know.”
“And after Derek, the last thing you need is another man deciding what your life should look like.”
Lena looked into his eyes.
“What if I'm asking what you want?”
Roman's composure disappeared for the briefest second.
“You.”
Her heart moved painfully for a reason that had nothing to do with her ribs.
“But,” he added, “only if you choose me when you're no longer afraid.”
Lena's eyes filled.
Roman stepped back.
Giving her room.
Always room.
For the first time in years, she realized she could walk away from a man without being chased.
So she did.
Not because she didn't care.
Because she needed to learn who Lena Hart was without fear.
She moved to Maine.
Started therapy.
Reconnected with friends Derek had isolated her from.
Maya visited almost every weekend.
Lena renovated her mother's old house and discovered she loved restoring furniture.
Roman never appeared unexpectedly.
Never demanded explanations.
Sometimes he texted.
How are the ribs?
Later:
How's the house?
Then:
Saw a chair today. Ugly. Thought of you.
Lena replied:
Your flirting needs work.
He answered:
I was told I'm terrifying. Not charming.
Months passed.
Then one October evening, Lena received a message from an unknown number.
Her stomach tightened automatically.
She opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Roman.
Standing outside her house.
Holding a small wooden chair.
The caption read:
Still ugly. But I drove six hours.
Lena laughed.
She opened the front door.
Roman stood on the porch.
No guards.
No suit.
Just jeans, a dark sweater, and the chair.
“You're insane.”
“So I've heard.”
“You drove six hours to bring me furniture?”
“I had another reason.”
“What?”
Roman looked nervous.
Roman DeLuca.
Nervous.
“I wanted to ask you to dinner.”
Lena smiled.
“You could have texted.”
“I was worried about sending it to the wrong number.”
She laughed.
Then headlights appeared at the end of the driveway.
A dark sedan stopped.
Roman's smile disappeared.
A man stepped out.
Federal badge clipped to his belt.
Calvin Mercer.
Lena frowned.
“What happened?”
Mercer's expression was grim.
“Victor Salerno made a deal.”
Roman went still.
“What kind of deal?”
“The kind that gets him transferred before trial.”
Lena's stomach dropped.
Mercer looked at both of them.
“The transport vehicle was attacked an hour ago.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“And Victor?”
Mercer took a breath.
May you like
“Gone.”
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