Chapter 8
By midnight, Roman’s estate contained twenty-three armed men.
Morgana counted them.
She had begun counting exits again too.
Old habits returned quickly when fear came home.
Roman stood in the center of the living room while Hayes distributed assignments.
Every camera feed was reviewed.
Nothing.
The intruder had entered through a blind section of the western property.
A section only someone familiar with the original security design would know.
Roman understood what that meant.
“This predates me.”
Hayes nodded.
“System was installed when Salvatore owned the house.”
Morgana looked toward Roman.
“Vescari?”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe it.”
“I believe evidence.”
Roman turned toward her.
“And right now we have a ledger entry and a photograph.”
“Plus Daniel Mercer.”
“Daniel could have had fifty enemies.”
“And your mother?”
Roman said nothing.
Morgana walked closer.
“You don’t want it to be Vescari.”
“No.”
At least he was honest.
“He was there when I buried my father.”
Roman’s voice lowered.
“He stood beside me when half the organization wanted to replace me.”
Hayes looked away.
Roman continued.
“He taught me how to negotiate with unions. How to recognize an informant. How to survive federal investigations.”
Morgana understood.
Thomas Vescari was not simply an ally.
He had become the father Roman lost.
Perhaps the father he wished he had possessed.
“That doesn’t mean he killed her.”
Morgana said.
Roman looked at her.
“No.”
“It means we find out.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Miller entered.
He looked exhausted.
“Western cameras are clean.”
Roman nodded.
“Check the old construction plans.”
“Already doing it.”
Miller’s attention shifted to Morgana.
Something unreadable passed across his face.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
Miller hesitated.
“Nothing.”
Roman stepped toward him.
“I dislike that word.”
Miller exhaled.
“There’s chatter.”
“What chatter?”
“About her.”
Morgana’s stomach tightened.
Roman’s face became cold.
“What about her?”
“People know Jason’s daughter stayed.”
Miller looked toward Morgana.
“They know you burned the debt.”
Roman remained silent.
“They’re saying she’s…”
Miller stopped.
“Finish.”
“Your weakness.”
The room became very quiet.
Morgana expected Roman to become angry.
Instead he smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
“Good.”
Miller frowned.
“Good?”
“If someone believes Morgana is the easiest way to control me, let them believe it.”
Morgana looked at him sharply.
Roman continued.
“They’ll expose themselves trying.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at Morgana.
Roman’s expression changed.
“What?”
“You’re not using me as bait.”
“Morgana—”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“I spent five months being collateral because men decided my life was useful leverage.”
Her voice remained calm.
“I’m not doing that again.”
Roman stared at her.
Miller and Hayes became intensely interested in anything else.
Roman lowered his voice.
“I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
“You just said you’d let them think I’m your weakness.”
“Thinking and reaching are different things.”
“Not to the person being reached for.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Morgana did not retreat.
“If this is going to work between us, you don’t get to turn me into strategy whenever you’re scared.”
That hit him.
“Scared?”
“Yes.”
Miller suddenly found the hallway fascinating.
Hayes looked as if he wanted popcorn.
Roman moved closer.
“I am trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m trying to remain a person while you do it.”
Silence.
Roman looked at her for a long time.
Then toward his men.
“Out.”
Nobody needed clarification.
Hayes and Miller disappeared.
Roman waited until the room was empty.
“You think I’m controlling you.”
“I think control is the language you speak when you’re afraid.”
Roman looked toward the windows.
Morgana continued.
“You gave me freedom when the Vulov war ended.”
“Yes.”
“And now danger is back.”
“Yes.”
“So what happens?”
Roman understood the question.
Do I become property again?
“No.”
His answer was quiet.
Morgana waited.
Roman rubbed his jaw.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Care about someone without controlling the variables around them.”
There it was.
The truth.
Morgana’s anger softened.
“You could start by asking.”
Roman looked at her.
“Ask what?”
“What I want.”
He almost laughed.
“Fine.”
Roman crossed his arms.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what’s happening.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“You won’t like all of it.”
“I didn’t like being sold either. I survived the information.”
Roman accepted the point.
“What else?”
“I want my own money.”
“You have twenty thousand dollars.”
“No.”
Morgana shook her head.
“That’s money you gave me.”
“What difference does that make?”
“A large one.”
She thought carefully.
“I want work.”
Roman stared.
“Absolutely not.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He closed his eyes.
“Right.”
A pause.
“That was controlling.”
“Yes.”
Roman tried again.
“What kind of work?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You can work for one of my legitimate companies.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then I still work for you.”
Roman seemed offended by the inefficiency of her independence.
“You understand I own businesses that employ twelve thousand people.”
“Congratulations.”
“One of them probably has a job you’d like.”
“I want to find it myself.”
Roman exhaled.
“All right.”
“And I want a bank account in my name.”
“You can open one tomorrow.”
“No Costa money automatically appearing in it.”
Roman looked personally wounded.
“You are making wealth unnecessarily difficult.”
“That’s because you think money solves everything.”
“It solves an impressive percentage of things.”
Despite herself, Morgana smiled.
Roman stepped closer.
“What else?”
She considered.
Then looked toward the staircase.
“I want you to stop calling my room my room.”
Roman’s eyes darkened.
“What should I call it?”
“The guest room.”
He understood.
Slowly.
“Morgana.”
She touched his chest.
“Ask.”
Roman looked down at her.
Then back into her eyes.
“Will you sleep with me tonight?”
Her heart beat faster.
“Yes.”
The answer changed something between them.
Not because of where the night might lead.
Because he had asked.
Roman touched her cheek.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Without urgency.
Morgana felt his restraint.
His carefulness.
His fear of becoming a man who took.
She pulled him closer.
“You can stop treating me like glass.”
Roman’s mouth brushed her temple.
“I’ve seen you throw your father to the wolves.”
“That’s better.”
“I know you aren’t glass.”
His hands settled around her waist.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know how easily people break.”
The words contained history.
Morgana looked at him.
“So do I.”
They went upstairs.
For once, Roman Costa left his phone outside the bedroom.
For once, Morgana did not lock a door.
Morning arrived quietly.
Morgana woke against Roman’s chest.
His arm was around her.
For several seconds, she simply listened to him breathe.
Then she noticed the scar.
Not the bullet scar.
Another.
A thin pale line beneath his collarbone.
She touched it.
Roman woke instantly.
His hand caught hers.
Reflex.
Then recognition.
His grip loosened.
“Sorry.”
“What happened?”
Roman looked where she had touched.
“Knife.”
“When?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Business?”
“My father.”
Morgana became still.
Roman stared at the ceiling.
“I challenged him during a meeting.”
“He stabbed you?”
“He called it education.”
Morgana felt anger rise.
Roman noticed.
“He’s dead.”
“That doesn’t make it acceptable.”
“No.”
Roman looked at her.
“It doesn’t.”
His phone began ringing outside.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Roman swore.
He got out of bed.
Morgana watched him retrieve the phone.
“Hayes.”
He listened.
His posture changed.
“What account?”
Another pause.
“When?”
Roman looked toward Morgana.
“All right. Freeze nothing. Don’t alert them.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?”
Roman reached for his shirt.
“Someone moved money from one of the accounts in my mother’s ledger.”
“How much?”
“Eight million.”
“Who?”
“That’s the interesting part.”
Roman buttoned his shirt.
“The authorization code belonged to Daniel Mercer.”
Morgana sat upright.
“The dead accountant?”
“Yes.”
“Someone has his credentials.”
Roman looked toward the window.
“Or someone wants us to think they do.”
His phone vibrated again.
A message.
Roman opened it.
His expression darkened.
“What?”
He showed Morgana.
One sentence.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE REST OF ELENA’S FILES.
Below it was an address.
Morgana recognized the city.
Philadelphia.
May you like
And beneath the address was a time.
Midnight.
