Chapter 2 - THE MAFIA BOSS GAVE HER THE JOB SHE EARNED—THEN SHE DISCOVERED SOMEONE INSIDE HIS EMPIRE HAD PUT HER FIVE-YEAR-OLD SON ON A WATCH LIST
Naen had been an assistant operations manager for exactly six days when she discovered she was being followed.
The man was terrible at it.
Same black sedan.
Same baseball cap.
Same coffee cup.
On Tuesday he parked across from Leo’s daycare.
Wednesday he appeared outside Laura.
Thursday he followed her grocery-store bus.
By Friday, Naen had enough.
She walked directly to his car and knocked on the window.
The man nearly dropped his coffee.
“Roll it down.”
He did.
“You work for Roman?”
Silence.
“That means yes.”
“I don’t know anyone named Roman.”
“You have the lying ability of a Labrador.”
The man sighed.
“Ms. Walker—”
“Naen.”
“I’m here for your protection.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Mr. Marchetti did.”
“Of course he did.”
Naen called Roman.
He answered immediately.
“Naen.”
“Why is a man named—I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
The guard blinked.
“Eric.”
“Why is Eric following me?”
Roman was silent.
“Roman?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“It is today.”
“At lunch.”
“It’s two.”
“I had meetings.”
Naen closed her eyes.
“Why do I need protection?”
“Come to my office.”
“No.”
“Naen.”
“Tell me.”
“I’d rather explain in person.”
“My son is involved?”
Silence.
Her blood went cold.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
She arrived in sixteen.
Roman’s office occupied the top floor of a restored stone building overlooking the river.
He stood behind his desk.
The bandage was gone, but he still moved carefully.
Naen ignored that.
“Leo.”
“He’s safe.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Roman gestured toward a chair.
She remained standing.
He showed her David’s photographs.
Naen looked at one.
Leo holding her hand.
Another.
Leo at daycare.
Another.
Naen entering her apartment.
Her stomach turned.
“Why?”
“We think David was connected to the people who attacked me.”
“You think?”
“We know.”
“And they care about me because?”
“You saw me.”
“I saw a bleeding man.”
“You could identify where I was found.”
“So?”
Roman hesitated.
“The location matters.”
“Why?”
“It was supposed to look like I disappeared.”
Naen understood.
“They didn’t expect your men to find you.”
“No.”
“How did they?”
“Tracker in my watch.”
Naen stared.
“Then why attack you there?”
“Someone disabled the primary tracker.”
“But not the backup?”
Roman’s mouth moved slightly.
“I’m paranoid.”
“For once, I approve.”
Then anger returned.
“You should have told me immediately.”
“Yes.”
Naen blinked.
She had prepared for an argument.
Roman continued.
“I was wrong.”
That was worse.
“Stop being reasonable. I’m furious.”
“You should be.”
“Roman.”
He leaned against the desk.
“I didn’t want you frightened before I knew whether the threat was real.”
“You don’t get to decide which truths I can handle.”
The words landed.
Roman said nothing.
Naen stepped closer.
“I spent five years making decisions for Leo with almost no money and no backup. I know what fear is.”
Her eyes burned.
“What I cannot survive is somebody deciding I’m too fragile for information.”
Roman nodded.
“You’re right.”
Naen looked suspicious.
“Do you apologize to everyone this easily?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I’m learning.”
She sat.
“Tell me everything I need to know.”
Roman did.
Not everything about his criminal world.
But enough.
Roman Marchetti inherited a network from his father that controlled trucking, docks, private security, construction contracts and several businesses that existed in the uncomfortable space between legitimate and criminal.
Roman had spent seven years moving much of it toward legal operations.
That had made him rich.
It had also made enemies.
Old men disliked clean books.
Dirty money required darkness.
Roman was turning on lights.
Viktor Bellini believed Roman was destroying traditions.
But Viktor did not have enough influence to arrange the attack alone.
Someone close to Roman helped.
“How close?”
Naen asked.
“Very.”
“Family?”
Roman’s eyes changed.
“Possibly.”
Naen understood that answer hurt more than the wound.
“Who?”
“My uncle Carlo. My cousin Julian. Two senior captains.”
“And David?”
“A useful idiot.”
“That description fits.”
Roman almost smiled.
Naen looked at the photographs.
“What happens now?”
“You and Leo move somewhere secure.”
“No.”
“Naen.”
“My answer is no.”
“Someone photographed your son.”
“And I’m not moving into a mafia fortress.”
“I didn’t say my house.”
“You were going to.”
Roman paused.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve known you for a week.”
“You saved my life.”
“That doesn’t mean I move in.”
“I have twelve bedrooms.”
“That somehow makes it worse.”
Roman rubbed his forehead.
“You’re impossible.”
“I’m cautious.”
“You approached an armed guard with a coffee cup.”
“He was annoying me.”
Roman laughed.
Actually laughed.
Naen stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You should do that more.”
Roman’s laughter disappeared.
“There. Ruined.”
They compromised.
A secure apartment owned by Marchetti Hospitality.
Naen paid reduced rent.
Roman insisted on security.
Naen insisted the guards stay outside.
Leo thought the building was amazing because it had an elevator.
Then Roman made his first mistake with Leo.
He brought him a dinosaur.
Not a toy.
A museum-quality replica skeleton kit with 312 pieces.
Leo stared.
Naen stared.
Roman looked suddenly uncertain.
“Too much?”
“It’s taller than he is.”
Leo hugged Roman’s leg.
“I love you.”
Naen closed her eyes.
Roman looked terrified.
“Is that normal?”
“He says it to pizza.”
Leo released him.
“I love pizza more.”
Roman nodded.
“Reasonable.”
Over the next month, Naen rebuilt Laura.
She changed scheduling.
Created anonymous complaints.
Returned stolen tips.
Fired one chef for throwing pans.
Promoted a dishwasher who had worked there eleven years.
Food costs dropped.
Employee turnover fell.
Revenue rose.
Roman watched from a distance.
He had offered her an opportunity.
Naen turned it into proof.
One evening he arrived at Laura after closing.
Naen sat at a table surrounded by invoices.
“You’re here late.”
“So are you.”
“I own the place.”
“I’m fixing it.”
He sat.
“You increased operating margin six percent.”
“Seven next month.”
“You sound confident.”
“I found a vendor overcharging seafood.”
Roman leaned forward.
“Which?”
“Barton Coastal.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Roman.”
He hated that she noticed everything.
“Barton is controlled by Carlo.”
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
Naen pushed an invoice toward him.
“Then your uncle has been stealing from you.”
Roman examined it.
Prices inflated twenty-two percent.
Fake delivery surcharges.
Ghost orders.
Naen had discovered in three weeks what auditors missed for years.
“How?”
“I used to be poor.”
Roman looked up.
She shrugged.
“Poor people notice when twelve dollars becomes fourteen.”
Roman ordered an audit.
Barton Coastal was only one piece.
Carlo’s companies had extracted nearly nine million dollars.
Then another discovery.
Payments to Viktor.
Roman stared at the evidence.
His uncle had helped finance the attack.
He confronted Carlo privately.
Carlo denied it.
Roman showed invoices.
Carlo laughed.
“You let a waitress audit your family?”
“She’s an operations manager.”
“A waitress.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“She has accomplished more in one month than your son has in thirty-two years.”
Carlo’s face changed.
“You’re sleeping with her?”
“No.”
“Yet.”
Roman stood.
“Be careful.”
Carlo smiled.
“About what?”
“Mentioning her.”
Carlo understood.
That was the problem.
Roman had revealed too much.
That night, Naen found Roman outside her apartment.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“What happened?”
“My uncle betrayed me.”
Naen unlocked the door.
“Do you want coffee?”
Roman looked surprised.
“That’s it?”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Most people ask questions.”
“You’ll answer when you want.”
Roman entered.
Leo was asleep.
Naen made coffee.
They sat in her kitchen.
Roman stared at the refrigerator drawings.
“My father used to bring me into meetings when I was Leo’s age.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Did your mother object?”
“She died when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry.”
Roman shrugged.
Naen recognized the movement.
It was what people did when grief had become too old to explain.
“My father believed affection made men weak.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Roman looked at Leo’s dinosaur drawing.
“Because my father died surrounded by men who obeyed him and nobody who loved him.”
Naen was quiet.
Roman continued.
“I spent most of my life trying not to become him.”
“Are you?”
“Becoming him?”
“Yes.”
Roman thought.
“Sometimes.”
“Then stop.”
He looked at her.
“That simple?”
“No.”
She sipped coffee.
“But simple and easy aren’t the same thing.”
Roman smiled.
“You always talk like this?”
“Only when exhausted.”
They sat until midnight.
Nothing romantic happened.
That mattered.
Roman left.
Naen locked the door.
Then leaned against it and realized she had wanted him to stay.
That frightened her more than the guards.
Two weeks later, Leo’s daycare called.
“Ms. Walker?”
“Yes?”
“Leo’s father is here.”
Naen froze.
“What?”
“A man says he’s his father.”
Her blood turned cold.
Leo’s father, Evan Price, had disappeared before Leo’s first birthday.
No support.
No calls.
Nothing.
“Do not release Leo.”
“We won’t.”
Naen ran.
Roman’s security arrived first.
Evan stood in the lobby.
Older.
Thin.
Nervous.
Naen entered.
“What are you doing here?”
Evan smiled.
“Good to see you too.”
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see my son.”
“After four years?”
“I made mistakes.”
Naen saw his new watch.
Expensive.
Evan had never owned anything expensive.
“Who paid you?”
His smile disappeared.
“What?”
“Who paid you?”
“No one.”
Roman entered behind her.
Evan’s face changed.
Recognition.
Fear.
Roman noticed.
“You know me?”
“No.”
“You do.”
Evan backed away.
Naen looked between them.
“Evan.”
He broke.
“Okay.”
Naen’s stomach dropped.
“Someone contacted me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand.”
Naen slapped him.
The room went silent.
She had never hit anyone before.
Evan touched his cheek.
“You sold access to your son for ten thousand dollars?”
“I wasn’t going to hurt him.”
“You came to remove him from daycare!”
“They said they just wanted leverage.”
Roman went still.
Naen stared.
“Leverage against who?”
Evan looked at Roman.
Naen understood.
Her relationship with Roman—whatever it was—had become visible.
Carlo believed Leo could control Roman through her.
Roman’s face became terrifyingly calm.
“Dante.”
Dante stepped forward.
“Take Mr. Price somewhere he can explain every conversation.”
Naen grabbed Roman’s arm.
“No.”
Roman looked down.
“No violence.”
“He endangered Leo.”
“I know.”
“He sold your son.”
“I know!”
Her voice cracked.
“But Leo will not grow up thinking men disappear because his mother’s powerful friend gets angry.”
Roman stared.
Powerful friend.
The phrase hurt more than it should.
Naen continued.
“Call police.”
Roman’s instincts fought him.
Then he nodded.
“Police.”
Evan was arrested for attempted custodial interference and conspiracy-related conduct.
His phone led investigators to a burner connected to Carlo’s driver.
Roman had enough.
Carlo’s betrayal became undeniable.
But Carlo disappeared.
Then Viktor disappeared.
For three days, nothing happened.
On the fourth, Naen received a package at Laura.
Inside was her old torn apron.
The one soaked in Roman’s blood.
Cleaned.
Folded.
On top sat a note.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT WALKING.
Naen stared.
Roman arrived eight minutes later.
He read it.
His face changed.
“You and Leo are coming with me.”
Naen wanted to argue.
Then she looked at the apron.
“No.”
Roman stared.
She swallowed.
“I mean I’m not arguing.”
For the first time, fear won.
That night Naen and Leo entered Roman’s estate.
Leo thought it was a castle.
Naen thought it looked lonely.
Roman gave them an entire wing.
“This is ridiculous.”
“It’s secure.”
“There are six bathrooms.”
“Security requires plumbing.”
She stared.
“That may be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”
Roman smiled.
Leo ran through the hallway.
“Mom! There’s a movie room!”
“Do not touch anything!”
Roman leaned closer.
“He can touch everything.”
Naen looked at him.
“Don’t spoil him.”
“I don’t know how.”
“That is exactly how it starts.”
For three nights they lived under the same roof.
Roman ate breakfast with Leo.
Badly.
He did not understand cereal.
“You pour milk.”
“I know.”
“You poured orange juice.”
Roman stared at the bowl.
Leo laughed so hard he fell sideways.
Naen laughed too.
Roman looked at them.
Something inside him shifted.
This was what his enormous house had never contained.
Noise.
Mess.
Life.
Then, on the fourth morning, Roman received a call.
Dante’s voice was urgent.
“We found Carlo.”
“Where?”
“Warehouse Twelve.”
Roman stood.
Naen saw his expression.
“What?”
“Stay here.”
“Roman.”
“Please.”
That word stopped her.
Roman left.
At Warehouse Twelve, Carlo waited alone.
Or appeared to.
Roman entered with Dante.
Carlo smiled.
“You brought an army.”
“I brought witnesses.”
“You’ve changed.”
“No.”
“You have.”
Carlo poured whiskey.
“The waitress did it.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Her name is Naen.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
Carlo laughed.
“Roman Marchetti defending a waitress and her bastard child.”
Roman crossed the room so quickly Dante almost moved.
But Roman stopped himself.
Carlo smiled.
“There he is.”
Roman understood.
Carlo wanted violence.
Wanted Roman angry.
Wanted him predictable.
Naen had taught him something without knowing it.
Fear was not authority.
Roman stepped back.
“You ordered the attack.”
Carlo’s smile faded.
“You can’t prove that.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You going to kill me?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
Roman placed a recorder on the table.
“Federal investigators are outside.”
Carlo went pale.
Roman had made another choice.
For months he had quietly provided evidence against the criminal portions of his inherited organization.
He wanted out.
Completely.
Carlo stared.
“You’d betray your own blood?”
Roman thought about Leo.
About Naen.
About his father dying alone.
“Blood betrayed me first.”
Carlo reached beneath his jacket.
Dante drew.
A shot exploded.
Carlo fell.
Alive.
Wounded.
Police rushed in.
Roman turned.
His phone rang.
Naen.
He answered.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Leo wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner.”
Home.
Roman closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Then a scream came through the phone.
Naen.
The line dropped.
Roman’s blood froze.
“Naen?”
Nothing.
He called again.
No answer.
Dante was already moving.
They raced outside.
At Roman’s estate, security alarms screamed.
One guard lay unconscious near the east entrance.
The security feed had been disabled from inside.
Roman ran through the house.
“NAEN!”
No answer.
He reached the guest wing.
The door stood open.
The room was empty.
On Leo’s bed sat his dinosaur.
Under it was another note.
This one contained six words.
May you like
YOU TOOK CARLO.
WE TOOK THEM.
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