Chapter 1 - THE BLOOD SHE NEVER FORGOT
“The punishment had become messy.”
Roman’s voice was quieter now.
Too quiet for a man who could make entire rooms obey him.
Norah stared at him.
“You say that like spilled wine.”
“I’m not proud of it.”
“But you did it.”
“Yes.”
That answer stopped her.
Roman had never been a man who hid behind soft language.
The problem was that honesty did not make brutality easier to live beside.
Norah looked down at the baby in her lap.
“My test was still in my coat pocket when I saw you at the sink.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“I remember the coat.”
“You remember the coat?”
“I remember everything about that night.”
“Then you remember me asking if something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“And what did you say?”
Roman looked away.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Norah laughed bitterly.
“That sentence decided everything.”
His eyes returned to hers.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“No. You were keeping me ignorant.”
The difference landed hard.
The engines roared louder as the plane began taxiing.
Norah continued.
“I went upstairs. I found the envelope under the bedroom door.”
“What envelope?”
Roman’s face sharpened.
She froze.
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
The plane stopped briefly near the runway.
Norah pulled a small worn wallet from the diaper bag.
Inside, behind an insurance card, she removed a folded photograph.
Roman took it.
The image showed Norah outside her obstetrician’s office.
Taken from across the street.
On the back, written in black ink:
TELL ROMAN ABOUT THE BABIES AND THEY’LL BE BURIED WITH HIS FATHER.
Roman’s face changed.
Not rage first.
Shock.
Then something colder.
“Who else saw this?”
“No one.”
“You kept it?”
“I needed proof I wasn’t imagining what happened.”
Roman’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Why didn’t you call me from somewhere else?”
“Because whoever took this knew where I went.”
Her voice cracked.
“And because the note mentioned your father’s grave.”
Roman looked up.
Very few people knew where Vittorio Moretti was buried.
Not even most of the organization.
A private hillside cemetery outside Lake Geneva.
Only family.
Three longtime lieutenants.
His attorney.
And one man Roman had trusted since childhood.
His uncle Carlo.
Norah saw the recognition.
“Who?”
Roman did not answer.
“Roman.”
He finally looked at her.
“There are only seven people alive who knew that location.”
Her face drained.
“Then the threat came from inside your family.”
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed.
A message from Carlo.
Roman opened it.
One sentence.
DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE THOSE CHILDREN UNTIL I SPEAK TO YOU.
Roman stared.
Norah saw the words.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“Now tell me why the man you trust most already knows they’re yours.”
