Chapter 6
Roman had six men with access to financial routing.
He did not investigate accounts first.
He watched people.
Who knew Nora returned?
Who knew Sophie entered the gala?
Who could place a bell in Helena’s purse?
Who had enough history to understand Lucian?
Only two.
Nico Bell.
Roman’s security chief.
And Carlo Vieri.
Seventy.
Family adviser.
Friend of Vittorio.
Godfather to Roman.
Carlo had hugged Sophie at the gala.
Roman remembered.
He had touched her cheek.
Called her “little crown.”
At the time Roman thought it affectionate.
Now it returned like poison.
Roman invited Carlo for breakfast.
No accusation.
No guards visible.
Carlo arrived smiling.
“You finally bring the little one home and hide her upstairs?”
Roman poured coffee.
“She’s tired.”
“Poor thing.”
Carlo’s eyes moved toward Helena.
She sat at the far end.
Silent.
Michael was hidden elsewhere.
Roman asked:
“Do you remember Lucian?”
Carlo’s hand stopped.
Only briefly.
“Your father’s ghost.”
“Alive?”
“Not when I last heard.”
“What about Michael?”
Carlo stared.
“Who?”
Roman almost smiled.
“Bad answer.”
Carlo leaned back.
“You’re testing me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman placed the brass bell on the table.
Carlo’s face changed.
There.
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing.”
Roman looked at Helena.
She said:
“Little Crown.”
Carlo stood.
Nico appeared at the door.
Carlo stopped.
Roman remained seated.
“You skimmed the transfers.”
Carlo laughed.
“You think I need your money?”
“No.”
“You needed Nora poor.”
Silence.
“You needed Helena blamed.”
Silence.
“You needed Sophie hidden enough to grow resentful.”
Carlo looked toward the window.
Roman understood.
“Lucian?”
Carlo smiled faintly.
“Dead.”
“Michael?”
“Traitor.”
Helena stood.
“You knew my son.”
Carlo turned.
“I helped move him.”
She froze.
“What?”
“Your father ordered it.”
“My father?”
Helena’s face changed.
Another betrayal.
Carlo continued:
“He feared Lucian would use the boy.”
“So you sent him where?”
“A family in Ohio.”
“Name?”
“Does it matter now?”
Michael entered.
Carlo stared.
For the first time, fear.
Michael walked toward him.
“It mattered to me.”
Carlo whispered:
“You.”
“Yes.”
Michael hit him once.
Roman let it happen.
One blow.
Then:
“Enough.”
Michael stopped.
Carlo touched blood at his mouth.
Roman looked at him.
“Where is Lucian?”
Carlo smiled.
“You still think he’s the head.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Carlo laughed softly.
“Lucian has been dying for years.”
“Then who runs Circle?”
Carlo looked toward Helena.
“Your granddaughter’s grandmother.”
Nora frowned.
“My mother is dead.”
Carlo smiled.
“Not Nora’s mother.”
Roman went still.
Helena stared.
“No.”
Carlo continued:
“Lucian wasn’t the only one who hated Vittorio.”
Roman knew before the name.
His grandmother.
Vittorio’s mother?
No.
Helena whispered:
“Evelyn.”
Roman frowned.
“Who?”
May you like
Helena’s face went pale.
“Your father’s first wife.”
