Chapter 5 - The Ledger of Blood
Five minutes later, the north wing study was secured.
Paul Mercer and three loyal security guards had flooded the room, binding Victor Vance’s hands with heavy steel handcuffs and dragging him down to the holding cells beneath the south garage.
Marcus Bolaro sat slouched in his leather chair, weeping quietly, his hands shaking uncontrollably as Paul removed a small brass key from the old man’s vest pocket.
Eva stood beside Roman near the desk.
Roman opened the bottom drawer of Marcus’s oak desk using the brass key. Inside lay a thick, leather-bound journal and a stack of encrypted flash drives.
Roman picked up the journal, flipping through the pages.
Eva leaned in slightly, her eyes scanning the neat, precise handwriting.
“It’s not just a coup,” Eva noted softly, pointing to a column of financial transfers dated three months ago. “He was selling the syndicate’s shipping routes to a federal task force in Manhattan.”
Roman stilled. He looked closely at the signatures at the bottom of the page.
“He wasn't starting a war with the Moretti family to take over,” Roman realized, his jaw tightening into iron. “He was setting up a fall guy. He was going to wipe out both the Bolaro and Moretti families, take thirty million dollars in federal witness protection funds, and disappear to South America.”
Marcus looked up, his eyes filled with pathetic, desperate fear.
“They were going to arrest all of us anyway, Roman!” Marcus sobbed. “The federal indictment was coming down next month! Sebastian found out because his law firm received the grand jury subpoenas! He was going to warn you!”
“So you shoved him into the maintenance shaft behind the vault wall,” Roman said, his dark eyes burning with absolute disgust. “You knew the vault hadn't been opened in ten years. You thought no one would ever hear him.”
“It was Victor’s idea!” Marcus begged, pointing a trembling finger toward the doorway. “Victor did it! I just wanted the money!”
Roman closed the journal with a loud, final SNAP.
He turned to Paul Mercer.
“Take him down to the lower holding room,” Roman commanded coldly. “Strip him of his titles, his accounts, and his name. He is no longer a Bolaro.”
Two guards hauled Marcus out of the chair, dragging him out of the room as he pleaded for mercy.
The study went quiet again.
Roman stood alone in the center of the room, looking down at the leather journal in his hands. The weight of twenty years of betrayal seemed to settle onto his broad shoulders.
He turned toward Eva.
She was standing near the fireplace, watching him with calm, quiet empathy. She didn't look at him as a terrifying mob boss or a ruthless killer. She looked at him as a man who had just watched his own family burn to the ground.
“You saved my life tonight, Eva,” Roman said softly, stepping closer to her.
May you like
“I just answered three knocks, Mr. Bolaro,” she replied gentle.
“No,” Roman corrected her, reaching out and taking her small, soft hand in his. His grip was strong, warm, and steady. “You looked where everyone else was too afraid to see.”
