Chapter 4
Nobody slept.
Roman moved Sophie and Nora into his private wing.
Nora objected.
“Your bedroom?”
“Guest suite.”
“I’m not hiding behind your walls again.”
“You’re not hiding.”
Roman looked at Sophie.
“You’re resting somewhere I can reach in thirty seconds.”
Nora almost argued.
Then stopped.
Different wording.
Not command.
Practical.
She accepted.
Roman spent the night with Helena in the old council library.
“What happens after the bell?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said they know.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Someone inside saw them.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“Inside the gala.”
“Maybe.”
“Guest list?”
“Hundreds.”
“Family?”
“Likely.”
Helena looked toward him.
“The Circle always believed blood should betray blood.”
“Why?”
“Because outsiders create martyrs.”
“Family creates doubt.”
Roman understood.
An enemy killing you makes you heroic.
A mother lying.
A brother betraying.
A cousin opening a gate.
Those wounds rot differently.
“What does Lucian want?”
“Revenge.”
“Against Father.”
“He’s dead.”
“Against you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you inherited everything Vittorio stole.”
Roman almost laughed.
Same logic repeated across generations.
“He wants Sophie because she’s mine.”
“Yes.”
“Then why wait?”
Helena hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Roman stared.
“What?”
“Lucian never had children.”
“The boy in the photo?”
“Not his.”
“Then who?”
“I think…”
She stopped.
Roman waited.
“Your brother.”
Silence.
Roman stared.
“I had one brother.”
“Salvatore’s son?”
“No.”
“Your brother.”
“My mother had another child?”
Helena closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Roman stood.
“Name.”
“Michael.”
The room tightened.
“When?”
“Before you.”
“Father?”
Helena looked away.
“Lucian.”
Roman stopped.
His mother had a child with the man his father later fought.
“Explain.”
Helena’s voice lowered.
“I was nineteen.”
“Lucian was already married.”
“He was kind to me.”
“Vittorio wasn’t.”
Roman hated hearing his dead father described so simply.
Probably because it was true.
“I became pregnant.”
“Michael.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Your grandfather took him.”
Roman stared.
“Took?”
“He said a bastard tied to two rival branches would destroy the family.”
“So?”
“He was sent away.”
“Where?”
“I never knew.”
“You never searched?”
“For years.”
“Then?”
Helena looked at the photograph of Lucian and the boy.
“Fourteen years ago, I realized Lucian found him.”
Roman looked again.
The boy would be around fourteen there.
Wrong age if Michael older than Roman.
Unless old photograph date uncertain.
Helena clarified:
“That boy was Michael’s son.”
Roman’s pulse changed.
His nephew.
Another D’Angelo branch.
“What does this have to do with Sophie?”
Helena whispered:
“If Lucian dies, Michael inherits his grievance.”
“And his son after him.”
“Three generations built around revenge.”
Roman almost smiled sadly.
“Efficient.”
Helena continued:
“I think Sophie was meant to be taken and raised beside that boy.”
“For what?”
“So one day she would hate you.”
Roman’s face went cold.
Not kill.
Raise.
Turn daughter against father.
The revenge was psychological.
Long.
Patient.
Dark.
Nora appeared in the doorway.
She had heard enough.
“You knew someone wanted to take my daughter and told me Roman was dead.”
Helena looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You made her ask why her father never came.”
“Yes.”
“You let her cry.”
Helena’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Nora’s voice hardened.
“And you call that protection?”
Helena said nothing.
Nora stepped closer.
“Protection that breaks the child first is just another kind of violence.”
Roman looked at his mother.
Helena accepted the sentence.
Before anyone spoke again, a bodyguard entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found someone in the service hall.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
May you like
The guard hesitated.
“He says his name is Michael D’Angelo.”
