Chapter 3 - THE FLOWER GIRL FOUND HER FATHER HELD HOSTAGE BY THE MAN WHO BETRAYED THREE MAFIA KINGS—BUT WHEN SHE REFUSED TO BE USED AS BAIT, THE COLDEST BOSS MADE A CHOICE THAT SHOCKED HIS ENTIRE FAMILY
Maeve did not call Adrian immediately.
She wanted to.
Her thumb hovered over his name.
But then she remembered the previous week.
The locked doors.
The guards.
The men discussing her future as though she were a shipment that had arrived at the wrong warehouse.
She had only just reclaimed her freedom.
And she was afraid that one frightened phone call would put her back inside their control.
So she called Evelyn Brooks.
The attorney answered on the second ring.
"Maeve?"
"My father called."
Evelyn listened as Maeve explained.
When Maeve finished, Evelyn said, "We need to contact law enforcement."
Maeve closed her eyes.
"He said Rourke would kill him."
"Then this is not something you should handle alone."
Maeve looked at the photograph.
Patrick's face was bruised.
His eyes were frightened.
For years, he had used those same eyes to convince her to forgive another lie.
She had always given in.
Now she didn't know whether she was trying to save him because she loved him or because she had never learned how to stop being responsible for him.
"Maeve," Evelyn said gently.
"Yes?"
"Your father's safety matters. So does yours."
Maeve swallowed.
"I know."
"Then we do this properly."
***
Within an hour, the police had the photograph and the phone records.
Daniel Mercer, a detective with the Boston Police Department's organized crime unit, met Maeve at Evelyn's office.
He was careful, direct, and unimpressed by the names of the men involved.
"Tell me everything you remember."
Maeve described the call.
Patrick's voice.
The background noise.
The door.
The sudden silence.
Mercer took notes.
Then he asked about Gabriel Rourke.
Maeve explained the financial records.
The Eastbridge payments.
The missing accountant.
The three contracts.
Mercer looked at her.
"You found the accounting pattern?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Maeve hesitated.
"I studied mathematics."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Where?"
"University of Massachusetts. I didn't finish."
Mercer nodded.
"That doesn't mean you forgot how to think."
For the first time that night, Maeve felt seen.
***
Adrian arrived at the attorney's office just after midnight.
Luca and Knox followed.
Maeve had not invited them.
Evelyn had contacted their legal representatives because the threats involved their businesses.
Knox entered first.
"Where is he?"
Maeve looked up.
"We don't know."
Knox swore.
Luca placed a folder on the table.
"Eastbridge has been moving money through three offshore holding companies."
Adrian looked toward Maeve.
"Are you safe?"
She hesitated.
"At the moment."
He nodded.
"Good."
Then he turned to the detective.
"What do you need from us?"
Mercer looked surprised.
"Records. Witnesses. Cooperation."
Adrian nodded.
"You'll have them."
Knox looked at him sharply.
Adrian ignored him.
Maeve watched the exchange.
The Adrian she'd met a week earlier would have ordered his own men to handle the situation.
This Adrian was choosing something different.
She wondered whether he was changing.
Or whether she'd simply never understood him.
***
The investigation moved quickly.
Eastbridge's accounts revealed payments to shell companies connected to Gabriel Rourke.
Several executives had received secret bonuses.
Victor Haines had been transferring funds through a company registered under a false name.
But the most disturbing discovery came from Luca's security analysts.
Someone had been accessing internal calendars for all three organizations.
Meeting schedules.
Travel plans.
Security rotations.
And personal information about family members.
Knox read the report.
"He's preparing an attack."
Adrian nodded.
"Or he wants us to believe he is."
Maeve looked at the dates.
Something bothered her.
The access requests had increased sharply during the past month.
But the financial theft had been happening for much longer.
"Why now?" she asked.
Luca turned.
"What?"
"Why would Rourke risk exposing a profitable scheme?"
Knox frowned.
"Because he's greedy."
Maeve shook her head.
"Greedy people usually protect the thing making them money."
Adrian looked at her.
"Go on."
She pointed toward the reports.
"Maybe the theft wasn't the real objective."
Luca leaned closer.
"What was?"
Maeve looked between them.
"Maybe he needed the money to finance something else."
Silence.
Then Adrian said, "A takeover."
***
By morning, the accountants had found evidence supporting her theory.
Rourke had used stolen funds to purchase debt owed by businesses connected to the three syndicates.
He had also quietly acquired minority interests in legitimate companies they controlled.
If the three bosses began fighting, the value of their businesses would fall.
Rourke could then pressure creditors and acquire assets at reduced prices.
A war would not merely weaken them.
It would make their empire available for purchase.
Luca stared at the figures.
"He's been buying our future."
Knox's expression darkened.
"And using our own money."
Adrian looked at Maeve.
"Your father was the spark."
Maeve nodded.
"The contracts were supposed to make you fight."
"And when we didn't?" Luca asked.
Maeve looked at the photograph of Patrick.
"Rourke needed another way to provoke you."
***
That afternoon, Maeve received a second message.
A video.
Patrick sat in a dimly lit room.
His hands were tied.
A voice behind the camera spoke.
"Tell your daughter what happens if she keeps helping them."
Patrick looked toward the lens.
"Maeve, please."
He swallowed.
"Stop."
The video ended.
Maeve stared at the screen.
Then she turned toward Evelyn.
"I can't keep doing this."
Evelyn nodded.
"You don't have to."
Maeve's eyes filled.
"But if I stop, he might die."
Evelyn took her hand.
"Someone else made that threat. You didn't."
Maeve began crying.
She had spent her whole life believing that if she worked hard enough, loved enough, and sacrificed enough, she could keep Patrick safe.
Now she was beginning to understand that she had never possessed that power.
***
That evening, Adrian found Maeve sitting alone in the office courtyard.
Snow had begun falling.
She wore a borrowed coat and held a paper cup of tea.
He stopped several feet away.
"May I sit?"
She looked surprised.
"You're asking?"
"Yes."
Maeve nodded.
Adrian sat beside her.
For a while, they watched the snow.
Then she said, "I hate him."
Adrian looked at her.
"My father."
He said nothing.
Maeve continued.
"I hate what he did. I hate that he always chose gambling over me."
Her voice broke.
"But I don't want him dead."
Adrian nodded.
"Both things can be true."
She looked at him.
"Do you believe people can change?"
He considered the question.
"Sometimes."
"Have you?"
Adrian looked toward the dark courtyard.
"I'm trying."
Maeve studied him.
"Why?"
He turned toward her.
"Because you asked me why you were still being held."
She was silent.
He continued.
"I didn't have an answer I could respect."
Maeve looked down.
Adrian's voice softened.
"I was raised to believe control was the same thing as protection."
"And now?"
"Now I'm learning that protection without choice can become another kind of harm."
Maeve felt something shift inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But the beginning of trust.
***
Two days later, investigators located the building where Patrick had been held.
It was an abandoned warehouse outside the city.
By the time police entered, the room was empty.
But they found blood on the floor.
A broken chair.
And a discarded phone.
Maeve waited at Evelyn's office while investigators worked.
Adrian stayed nearby.
He did not tell her everything would be fine.
He did not make promises he couldn't keep.
He simply remained.
At four seventeen in the afternoon, Detective Mercer called.
Patrick had been found alive.
He was being treated at a hospital.
Maeve dropped into a chair.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she began crying.
Adrian crouched beside her.
"He's alive."
She nodded.
"I heard."
He offered his hand.
Maeve took it.
***
Patrick's recovery was slow.
He had suffered injuries during his captivity, but doctors expected him to survive.
When Maeve visited, she found him looking smaller than she'd ever seen him.
His hair was gray.
His face was bruised.
His eyes filled with tears when she entered.
"Sweetheart."
Maeve stood beside the bed.
For years, she had imagined what she would say if she finally confronted him.
Now the words were simple.
"You sold me."
Patrick closed his eyes.
"I know."
"You signed three contracts."
"I know."
"You knew those men could have hurt me."
Tears moved down his face.
"I thought Rourke would pay the debts."
Maeve stared at him.
"You thought someone else would fix your mistakes."
Patrick looked away.
She continued.
"That's what you've always thought."
He began crying.
"I'm sorry."
Maeve swallowed.
"I believe you're sorry."
Patrick looked up hopefully.
"But I can't keep living your life for you."
His face fell.
She took a breath.
"I'm not paying your debts anymore."
He nodded slowly.
"I'm not giving you money to gamble."
"I understand."
"And I'm not coming back to that apartment to pretend everything is normal."
Patrick covered his face.
Maeve stood quietly.
Then she said, "I want you to get help."
He looked up.
"Will you forgive me?"
Maeve's eyes filled.
"Maybe someday."
She paused.
"But forgiveness won't mean I let you hurt me again."
***
That evening, Maeve returned to Adrian's office.
She found him standing beside the window.
He turned when she entered.
"How was he?"
"Alive."
Adrian nodded.
"And you?"
Maeve considered the question.
"Different."
He waited.
She smiled sadly.
"I think I finally understand that I can love someone without being responsible for every mistake they make."
Adrian looked at her.
"That's not an easy lesson."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Neither is learning you can't control everyone."
He smiled faintly.
"Apparently."
For a moment, they stood facing one another.
Maeve became aware of how close he was.
Of the quiet warmth in his expression.
Of the fact that she was no longer frightened of him.
Adrian looked down at her.
"Maeve."
"Yes?"
He hesitated.
"I don't want you to misunderstand what happens next."
She frowned.
"What happens next?"
He took a breath.
"I would like to take you to dinner."
Maeve stared.
Then she laughed.
"You're asking me on a date?"
"Yes."
"Not ordering me?"
"No."
"Not putting it in a contract?"
His mouth curved.
"Definitely not."
Maeve looked at him for a long moment.
Then she smiled.
"I'll think about it."
Adrian nodded.
"That's fair."
May you like
And for the first time in his life, the most feared man in Boston discovered that waiting for a woman's answer could be more terrifying than facing an armed rival.
END OF CHAPTER 3
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