Chapter 7 - What Was Buried Beneath LauraThey entered Laura at 3:12 a.m.
Roman had closed the restaurant indefinitely.
Officially, renovations were beginning.
Unofficially, Victor had removed every employee and placed two men at every entrance.
Naen stood in the center of the dark dining room.
The place felt smaller now.
This was where David Kesler had fired her.
Where Roman had discovered what saving his life had cost her.
Where everything had changed.
“Laura knows where it sleeps.”
Naen repeated the sentence.
Roman stood beside the bar.
“It could mean anything.”
“No.”
She looked around.
“Your father chose those words deliberately.”
Roman watched her.
“Why would he know this restaurant?”
Victor emerged from the office carrying old ownership documents.
“He did.”
Roman turned.
Victor placed the paperwork on a table.
“Laura opened twenty-one years ago.”
“Original owner was Laura Bell.”
“Before that?”
“A warehouse.”
Naen looked at Roman.
“What kind?”
Victor read.
“Wine importer.”
Roman’s expression sharpened.
“Vale used wine imports.”
Victor nodded.
“To move cash.”
Naen looked around again.
The beautiful restaurant disappeared.
She imagined crates.
Pallets.
Forklifts.
Men moving contraband beneath fluorescent lights.
“Basement?”
Roman pointed toward the kitchen.
They descended.
The basement was larger than Naen expected.
Wine racks covered two walls.
Industrial refrigeration occupied another.
Victor and his men searched for hours.
Nothing.
At 5:40 a.m., Roman slammed his fist against a concrete pillar.
“There’s nothing here.”
Naen was exhausted.
She sat on a wooden wine crate.
“Maybe we’re looking for money when we should be looking for truth.”
Roman turned.
“Explain.”
“Your father wrote ‘Roman owns the truth.’”
She looked at the ledger.
“What if the fourteen million isn’t the important part?”
Roman said nothing.
Naen stood.
She walked toward the oldest section of the basement.
One wall was brick.
Different brick.
Older.
She touched it.
Cold.
Then she noticed scratches near the floor.
“Roman.”
He approached.
Naen pointed.
“These bricks have been moved.”
Twenty minutes later, Victor’s men broke through.
Behind the wall was a narrow cavity.
Inside sat a rusted metal box.
Roman did not touch it.
For a moment, nobody did.
Then Naen took his hand.
“Together.”
They opened it.
No money.
Photographs.
Documents.
Cassette tapes.
And one envelope.
ROMAN.
The handwriting was faded.
Roman stared at his name.
Naen stepped back.
“This is yours.”
Roman opened it.
His hands shook.
The letter was four pages.
He read silently.
Halfway through, his face changed.
Naen had seen Roman furious.
Injured.
Protective.
Tender.
She had never seen him collapse without moving.
“What?”
He handed her the letter.
Naen read.
Roman’s father had not stolen fourteen million dollars for himself.
He had spent three years documenting Dominic Vale’s operation.
Police.
Judges.
Union officials.
Politicians.
Businesses.
Every person Vale had paid.
Every murder he had ordered.
Every shipment.
The fourteen million had been Vale’s emergency fund.
Roman’s father had moved it to prevent Vale from disappearing.
But before he could deliver the evidence to federal authorities, someone inside law enforcement betrayed him.
That betrayal had gotten him killed.
Naen reached the final paragraph.
Roman, if you ever read this, I am sorry. I wanted you to grow up believing your father was only weak. Weak men can still have good sons. I was afraid that if you knew the truth, you would try to finish what I started. Please don’t. Take your mother somewhere safe. Become better than the men who own this city.
Naen stopped.
Roman stood with his back to her.
“Roman.”
“My entire life.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought he died because he was stupid.”
Naen moved closer.
“He died trying to stop Vale.”
“I built the same thing.”
The words came quietly.
Naen froze.
Roman turned.
His eyes were red.
“I became Vale.”
“No.”
“Look around.”
He gestured toward the basement.
“Men with guns.”
“Bribed officials.”
“Money moving where nobody can see it.”
“People afraid to say my name.”
He laughed bitterly.
“I spent twenty years avenging my father by becoming the thing that killed him.”
Naen grabbed his face.
“Look at me.”
Roman resisted.
She forced him.
“You are not your father.”
“I know.”
“And you are not Vale.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“I know what you do next.”
Roman stared.
“That’s the part you still control.”
The documents in the box could destroy half the city’s old criminal network.
They could also destroy Roman.
Because some of the people listed were still powerful.
And Roman had inherited many of the relationships Vale created.
Victor examined the papers.
“If this goes public, war.”
Roman looked at him.
“If it doesn’t?”
“Vance keeps coming.”
Naen picked up one photograph.
Vance stood beside Dominic Vale.
Much younger.
Beside them was another man.
Naen recognized him.
Her blood went cold.
“No.”
Roman turned.
“What?”
She handed him the photograph.
The third man was David Kesler.
Younger.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Roman stared.
“Kesler?”
Victor swore.
Naen remembered.
David’s panic the day she returned for her paycheck.
She had assumed he was afraid because Roman was buying the restaurant.
What if it had been more?
“What if Kesler knew?”
Roman looked toward the ceiling.
“The manager’s office.”
They ran upstairs.
Kesler’s old office had been untouched since his firing.
Roman searched the desk.
Victor checked cabinets.
Naen stood in the doorway.
Something bothered her.
Kesler had been terrified before Roman revealed Naen had saved him.
Why?
She looked at the wall.
A framed photograph of Laura’s dining room hung behind the desk.
Naen removed it.
A small safe was hidden behind it.
Roman looked at her.
“How did you know?”
“I worked for him.”
She shrugged.
“He was predictable.”
Victor cracked the safe.
Inside were financial records.
A passport.
Cash.
And a burner phone.
The phone still had power.
One message thread.
No names.
Only numbers.
The most recent message had been sent three weeks earlier.
She is close to Caldwell now.
The reply:
Then she is useful.
Naen stopped breathing.
Roman read over her shoulder.
His face became lethal.
Another message.
Use the child if necessary.
Roman grabbed the phone.
“Victor.”
“I’m on it.”
Naen scrolled farther.
Months of messages.
Kesler had been feeding information to someone.
Schedules.
Restaurant guests.
Roman’s movements.
Then Naen found the message sent the day Roman was stabbed.
Caldwell enters through Fourth Street at 3:45.
Naen looked up.
“Kesler set up the attack.”
Roman went silent.
The alley.
The stabbing.
Naen arriving.
Everything had begun because David Kesler had betrayed Roman.
Victor traced the number.
His expression darkened.
“It’s Vance.”
Roman reached for his weapon.
Naen stopped him.
“No.”
“He tried to have me killed.”
“I know.”
“He threatened Leo.”
“I know.”
Roman looked at her.
“Then move.”
Naen held up the burner phone.
“We have something better than bullets.”
“What?”
“Proof.”
She smiled without warmth.
“And David Kesler thinks he’s still useful.”
Roman slowly understood.
“You want to use him.”
“Yes.”
Victor looked impressed.
Roman looked almost proud.
Naen hated that she liked that.
At 9:00 a.m., David Kesler received a message from the burner phone.
I FOUND CALDWELL’S FATHER’S FILES.
MEET TONIGHT.
Ten seconds later:
WHERE?
Naen typed.
LAURA.
MIDNIGHT.
The reply came immediately.
I’LL BRING VANCE.
Naen placed the phone down.
Roman looked at her.
“You are never working as a waitress again.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re terrifying.”
Naen smiled.
“You hired me.”
Roman pulled her against him.
His forehead touched hers.
“If this goes wrong—”
“It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
She looked into his eyes.
“But I know something you taught me.”
“What?”
Naen glanced around the restaurant.
“Never let someone else decide where the battlefield is.”
Roman smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
At midnight, Laura would open again.
May you like
Not for dinner.
For judgment.
