Chapter 3 - THE DEBT WAS NEVER ABOUT MONEY
Julian left the bakery through the back entrance with Maya beside him.
Two black SUVs waited in the alley.
Snow had started falling.
Derek stood beside the first vehicle.
His expression turned grim when he saw Maya.
“You told him.”
“He heard.”
“Wonderful.”
Maya looked between them.
“What happened?”
Derek opened the SUV door.
“Inside.”
“No.”
Julian turned.
“Maya.”
“No more ordering me around while everyone else knows what’s happening.”
Derek looked at Julian.
Julian gave the smallest nod.
Fine.
Derek lowered his voice.
“The black ledger was stored inside a secure room at the penthouse.”
Maya stared.
“Someone took it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Between noon and four.”
She thought about the house.
Staff.
Security.
Deliveries.
“I was there until four.”
Julian looked at her.
“That’s the problem.”
Maya flinched.
“You think I took it?”
“No.”
Derek answered too quickly.
Julian glanced at him.
Derek sighed.
“We think whoever took it may have used Maya’s access.”
Maya felt cold.
“My access?”
“Your housekeeping badge opened the service corridor at 2:16.”
“I was cleaning the west bedrooms.”
“We know.”
“How?”
Julian said:
“Cameras.”
She stared at him.
“You watch me?”
“No.”
“Apparently somebody does.”
Derek interrupted before that argument could start.
“Your badge was cloned.”
Maya slowly understood.
Victor.
The debt.
The late-night work.
Her predictable schedule.
Someone had spent months getting close enough to use her.
“How?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Julian looked at her wallet.
“Where do you keep your penthouse badge?”
“Behind my ID.”
“And your debt notices?”
Same place.
Maya’s stomach dropped.
Victor had insisted on seeing payment receipts.
Several times.
He had held her wallet.
Copied the badge?
Photographed it?
She felt sick.
“He used me.”
Julian’s jaw clenched.
“Yes.”
Maya stepped back.
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes snapped toward her.
“For what?”
“The ledger.”
“You didn’t steal it.”
“But they got to it because of me.”
“No.”
“Julian—”
“They got to you because of me.”
Silence.
The admission sounded almost painful.
Maya looked at him.
“What is in that ledger?”
Derek muttered:
“Not here.”
Julian looked toward the alley entrance.
Then at Maya.
“Names.”
“What names?”
“Judges. cops. union officials. politicians. businessmen.”
Maya felt her skin crawl.
“Payments?”
“Some.”
“Crimes?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
Julian held her gaze.
“The kind that keeps powerful men obedient.”
Maya whispered:
“Blackmail.”
Derek answered:
“Insurance.”
She almost laughed.
“Men like you always rename ugly things.”
Julian did not argue.
That unsettled her.
“Did you create it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“My father.”
Maya knew almost nothing about Julian’s father.
Dominic Croft.
Dead twelve years.
Founder of the network Julian inherited.
Feared even more than his son.
“What did he use it for?”
“Control.”
Julian said the word without pretending.
Maya appreciated that.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE GIVEN ME WHAT I ASKED FOR.
Her hands went cold.
Julian took the phone.
Another message arrived.
NOW HE THINKS YOU BETRAYED HIM.
Maya looked up.
Julian’s expression remained flat.
Third message.
ASK JULIAN WHAT HAPPENED TO BELLINI EIGHT YEARS AGO.
Julian stopped moving.
Maya saw it.
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about tonight.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You don’t get to say that anymore.”
Derek looked away.
That was worse.
Maya stared at him.
“You know too.”
Derek exhaled.
“Victor Bellini worked for Dominic Croft.”
Julian’s father.
Maya’s pulse accelerated.
“Doing what?”
“Collections. enforcement. security.”
Maya looked at Julian.
“And then?”
Julian said:
“He betrayed my father.”
“How?”
“He sold information to another family.”
“Which family?”
“The Romanos.”
Chicago’s old enemies.
Maya knew the name only from whispers.
“Then what?”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“My father ordered him killed.”
Maya stopped breathing.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did Derek?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Julian looked into the falling snow.
“Marco Vance.”
Maya turned toward Derek.
His face had gone pale.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
Maya whispered:
“So Victor Bellini was supposed to be dead.”
Derek nodded.
“He disappeared the same night Marco said it was handled.”
“Your father lied?”
“I don’t know.”
Maya’s phone buzzed again.
This time, a photograph.
Old.
Grainy.
Victor Bellini standing beside another man.
Derek’s father.
Marco Vance.
Both alive.
Date stamped seven years ago.
One year after Victor’s supposed death.
Derek stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Below it were five words.
MARCO NEVER KILLED VICTOR.
May you like
Then another message.
HE WORKED FOR HIM.
