Chapter 5 - The Man Who Knew Roman Before Claire DidRoman wanted The Quiet Page closed the following morning.
Claire opened at seven.
They argued at seven-oh-three.
"Someone photographed you inside this building."
"And?"
Roman stared at her.
Claire continued arranging pastries.
"And the locks have been changed. Cameras are installed. Your security people checked every room."
"That does not make this safe."
"No. It makes it safer."
"Claire."
"Roman."
He lowered his voice.
"This isn't stubbornness. It's reckless."
Claire stopped.
"Do you know what I did for six years before reopening this shop?"
Roman remained silent.
"I worked whenever anyone gave me hours. I skipped meals. I repaired my own shoes. I watched my grandmother's sign collect dust because every month something else cost money."
She pointed around the room.
"I finally got this place back."
Her voice softened.
"I'm not handing it to a stranger because he sent me a photograph."
Roman looked toward the windows.
"You could lose more than a shop."
"I know."
That was what stopped him.
Claire was afraid.
She simply refused to let fear make every decision.
Roman exhaled.
"What do you want?"
"Two guards outside."
"Four."
"Two."
"Three."
"Two and they get free coffee."
Roman considered it.
"Three and they pay."
Claire almost smiled.
"Fine."
The day remained uneventful until noon.
Then Gabriel Vale walked through the front door.
Claire did not know his name immediately.
She only noticed that every security officer outside became alert.
The man was perhaps fifty.
Silver hair.
Charcoal suit.
No visible weapon.
He walked with the relaxed confidence of someone accustomed to entering rooms where he was unwelcome.
Roman stood from his table.
"Vale."
Claire's stomach tightened.
Gabriel smiled.
"Roman."
No one moved.
Gabriel looked toward Claire.
"So this is the famous waitress."
"Bookshop owner," Claire corrected.
Gabriel's smile widened.
"Of course."
Roman stepped between them.
"Leave."
Gabriel ignored him.
"I came for coffee."
"You came to provoke me."
"That too."
Claire looked toward the guards.
Roman could remove Gabriel within seconds.
But Gabriel clearly wanted that.
A public confrontation.
Fear.
Proof that Roman De Luca remained exactly the man Gabriel remembered.
Claire picked up a menu.
"What would you like?"
Roman turned toward her.
"Claire."
"He's a customer until he behaves otherwise."
Gabriel seemed delighted.
"Black coffee."
Claire poured it.
"Four pounds."
He placed a fifty-pound note on the counter.
Claire gave him forty-six pounds change.
Gabriel laughed.
"I understand the attraction."
Roman's expression hardened.
Claire placed the coins down.
"Then you're ahead of Roman. He's still confused."
Gabriel carried his coffee to an empty table.
Roman remained standing.
Gabriel took one sip.
"Terrible."
Claire nodded.
"Roman says the same thing and comes back every day."
"That's because Roman has always been drawn to things he can't control."
Roman's hand curled.
Claire saw it.
So did Gabriel.
That was why he had come.
Not to drink coffee.
To test which buttons still worked.
Elena arrived twenty minutes later.
When she entered, Gabriel became silent.
Elena recognized his voice after one sentence.
"Gabriel Vale."
"Elena."
She stopped.
"You came to my sixteenth birthday."
Roman looked sharply toward Gabriel.
Elena remembered more.
"You gave me a music box."
Gabriel smiled.
"Your memory was always excellent."
Elena's face changed.
"You knew me."
"I knew your family."
"Then why are you following me?"
The room went still.
Gabriel set down his cup.
"I didn't."
Roman stepped forward.
"Do not lie to her."
"I didn't follow her."
"The photograph—"
"I sent no photograph."
Claire studied him.
Gabriel seemed many things.
Dangerous.
Arrogant.
Manipulative.
But at that moment, he appeared genuinely surprised.
Elena heard it too.
"Someone used your history with Roman."
Gabriel leaned back.
"Apparently."
Roman did not believe him.
Gabriel reached into his coat.
Three guards moved simultaneously.
Gabriel froze.
Then slowly removed a folded piece of paper.
He placed it on the table.
"Before you accuse me of threatening your sister, you should read that."
Roman opened it.
His expression changed.
Claire walked closer.
The document was a copy of a bank transfer.
Three million pounds.
Transferred eight years earlier.
From a company controlled by Vittorio De Luca.
To another company.
Claire recognized the name.
Hart Media Holdings.
Vanessa Hart's father's company.
Elena frowned.
"What is it?"
Roman told her.
Gabriel watched him.
"Your father paid Malcolm Hart three million pounds."
"For what?"
"That's the interesting question."
Roman looked at him.
Gabriel continued.
"Six months after that payment, my company was investigated. Contracts disappeared. Banks withdrew credit. Your father acquired three properties from me at less than half their value."
Roman's expression remained controlled.
"You think Hart helped destroy you."
"I know he did."
"And Vanessa?"
"Was a teenager."
Gabriel's tone sharpened.
"I don't punish children for their fathers' sins."
Elena turned toward his voice.
"Then why come here?"
"Because someone wants Roman to believe I do."
For the first time, Roman seemed uncertain.
Gabriel stood.
"Someone is recreating an old war."
He buttoned his coat.
"And they're using the women around you to make sure you behave exactly as expected."
Claire felt cold.
Gabriel walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he turned toward her.
"One piece of advice, Miss Dawson."
"I didn't ask."
"No. That's probably why you'll remember it."
He looked at Roman.
"Men raised around power often confuse love with perimeter control."
Roman's jaw tightened.
Gabriel smiled faintly.
"Make sure he learns the difference before someone exploits it."
Then he left.
Roman immediately ordered an investigation into Hart Media Holdings.
Claire noticed Elena remained silent.
"What are you thinking?" Claire asked.
"Vanessa."
Roman turned.
"What about her?"
"She disappeared from public view after the cafe scandal."
Claire understood.
"You think someone might be using her?"
"I think humiliation makes people vulnerable to anyone who promises revenge."
Roman made a call.
Vanessa's apartment was empty.
Her phone had been disconnected two days earlier.
Her father claimed not to know where she was.
By evening, the situation worsened.
A brick shattered The Quiet Page's front window.
No one was injured.
Wrapped around it was another message.
THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO PEOPLE WHO STAND BESIDE DE LUCA.
Roman arrived within minutes.
He found Claire sweeping broken glass.
"Stop."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
"You'll cut yourself."
"I own a broom."
Roman took the broom anyway.
Claire almost argued.
Then she saw his hands.
They were shaking.
Not much.
But enough.
She had never seen Roman frightened before.
Not visibly.
She let him sweep.
When the glass was cleared, Roman stood in the middle of the shop.
"I should never have come here."
Claire stared at him.
"Don't."
"This happened because of me."
"The person who threw the brick did it."
"Because of me."
"Roman."
He looked at her.
"If you disappear every time someone threatens a person you care about, you're still letting them control you."
His expression changed at the words care about.
Claire heard it too.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Roman said quietly, "You know I care about you."
Claire's heart beat harder.
"Yes."
"I have been trying very hard not to make that your problem."
Despite everything, Claire smiled.
"You're improving."
Roman stepped closer.
Not touching.
Waiting.
Claire knew what he wanted.
For once, Roman did not ask with words.
He simply gave her enough space to choose.
Claire closed the distance.
She kissed him.
It was not dramatic.
No music.
No applause.
Broken glass still glittered beneath one shelf.
Roman's hand rose toward her waist and stopped before touching.
Claire took his hand and placed it there herself.
That small movement changed the kiss.
Roman had spent years believing desire meant possession.
Claire turned it into permission.
When they separated, his forehead rested against hers.
"Was that pity?"
Claire whispered.
"Your ego recovered quickly."
A laugh escaped him.
Then a phone rang.
Elena.
Roman answered.
Her voice came through the speaker.
"Vanessa contacted me."
Claire and Roman looked at each other.
"Where is she?" Roman asked.
"I don't know."
"What did she say?"
Elena hesitated.
"She said the person behind this isn't Gabriel Vale."
Roman waited.
"She said it's someone inside your company."
Claire's stomach tightened.
Elena continued.
"And she says she has proof."
Roman's face became still.
"Where is she?"
"She wants to meet."
"No."
Elena's tone hardened.
"That wasn't your decision."
"Elena—"
"She contacted me, Roman."
Claire could practically hear the old argument returning.
Then Roman surprised both women.
He closed his eyes.
"What do you want?"
Elena became quiet.
"I want to meet her."
Roman swallowed his objection.
"Then we plan it your way."
Claire watched him.
A month earlier, Roman would have ordered twenty men into position before Elena finished speaking.
Now he asked.
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
"Where?"
"She hasn't said yet."
Elena paused.
"And Roman?"
"Yes?"
"Vanessa sounded terrified."
The next message arrived thirty seconds later.
It contained a location.
An abandoned theater on the east side.
May you like
And one instruction.
ELENA COMES ALONE.
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