Chapter 6 - The Trap Shuts Tight
"She's burning the ledgers?" Roman's eyes narrowed to slits of cold steel. "Why
would Vivian care about old accounting books?" Claire asked, wrapping Roman’s
wool coat tighter around herself as she stepped over the debris. Roman looked at
Claire, his expression darkening with a revelation. "Your father wasn't an
irresponsible debtor, Claire," Roman said, turning to her. "Thomas Bennett was
the chief auditor for my grandfather's legitimate shipping holdings twenty years
ago. When my father took over, your dad suddenly resigned and disappeared into
private practice." Claire blinked, stunned. "My father always told us he left
corporate accounting because of stress. He never spoke about the DeLucas."
"Because Arthur Mercer threatened to butcher his family if he stayed," Roman
stated, pieces of the long puzzle snapping into place with terrifying clarity.
"Your father discovered that Mercer was siphoning tens of millions of dollars
out of our charity trusts and shipping logistics. Mercer framed your dad with a
manufactured debt, drove him into hiding, and when your sister got sick, Mercer
used that fake debt as a leash to keep you obedient."
Claire pressed a hand to her mouth, tears burning her eyes. All those years of
scrimping, skipping meals, crying herself to sleep wondering why her father had
left them with an impossible mountain of debt—it had all been a calculated lie
engineered by the Mercer family. "Let's go to the archives," Claire said, her
voice steadying with a fierce, newfound resolve. "Claire, you need to rest,"
Roman warned gently. "No," Claire said, looking directly into the boss's eyes.
"That was my father's life. That was my sister's childhood. I am going."
Roman stared at her for a moment, seeing the unbreakable fire behind her soft
brown eyes, and nodded once. "Dante, form a perimeter around the east basement
stairs."
They descended into the cold stone vaults beneath the mansion. The air grew
thick with the smell of smoke and burning paper. At the end of the long stone
hallway, the door to the archival vault was ajar. Flames flickered against the
ancient limestone arches. Roman kicked the door fully open. Vivian stood inside,
a can of lighter fluid in one manicured hand and a torch lighter in the other.
Two Mercer bodyguards stood beside her, their guns raised. "Stop right there,
Roman!" Vivian screamed, her hair disheveled, her scarlet dress stained with
soot. "Don't come any closer or I burn every scrap of proof your family ever
had!" "Put the lighter down, Vivian," Roman said, stepping into the room without
raising his gun, utterly indifferent to the two weapons pointed at his chest.
"You ruined everything!" Vivian shrieked. "We had an agreement! My father was
supposed to take the Sound ports, I was supposed to be the Lady of DeLuca House,
and you were supposed to die in a turf war next month! And you threw it all away
for this fat, worthless maid!"
Claire stepped forward from behind Roman's shoulder, standing tall, refusing to
shrink. "My father was ten times the human being you or your father will ever
be," Claire said, her voice clear and resonant in the stone chamber. "And you
are going to pay for every single tear my sister cried." Vivian laughed
hysterically. "Shoot them both!" she screamed at her guards.
Before the guards could pull their triggers, Dante and three DeLuca operators
fired through the arched windows from the outer courtyard. The two Mercer guards
dropped instantly. Vivian shrieked, dropping the lighter fluid, and lunged
toward the flaming desk to throw the last thick black ledger into the fire.
Claire rushed forward, ignoring the heat, and grabbed the heavy leather ledger
by its brass binding, yanking it away from the flames before the fire could
consume the pages. Vivian grabbed Claire by the hair, snarling like a feral
animal, raising a broken piece of glass from an antique lantern. "I'll kill you
myself!" Vivian hissed.
Roman's hand clamped around Vivian's wrist like a vise of solid iron. With a
sickening snap of bone, Vivian cried out in agony, dropping the shard of glass.
Roman twisted her arm behind her back, pinning her against the stone wall with
effortless power. "You made two mistakes tonight, Vivian," Roman whispered in
her ear, his voice freezing the very marrow in her bones. "You betrayed the
DeLuca family. And you touched the woman I love."
May you like
Vivian's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. Claire froze, the heavy ledger
clutched against her chest, her heart stopping at Roman's words. Roman shoved
Vivian toward Dante. "Cuff her. Put her in the cellar holding cells until the
federal marshals arrive."
As Dante dragged the weeping, broken heiress away, Roman turned toward Claire.
Claire took a single step toward him—and suddenly, her knees gave out. The
physical trauma of hypothermia, the smoke inhalation, and the crushing emotional
shock finally overwhelmed her. She collapsed forward. Roman caught her before
her knees touched the floor, scooping her into his arms. Her skin was burning
with a sudden, violent fever, her breathing shallow and wheezing. "Rossi!" Roman
shouted down the corridor, absolute terror returning to his eyes. "Rossi, get
down here now!"
