Chapter 7 - ANTHONY’S LAST REQUEST
Anthony's second letter was shorter.
Vincent,
If Mother is the one who hurts me, forgive her before you decide whether she deserves it.
She has spent her entire life afraid.
Fear makes good people do terrible things when powerful men teach them that truth is more dangerous than sin.
Vincent stopped reading.
Clara sat across from him.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
He continued.
Anthony knew Isabella had discovered his investigation.
He suspected she might confront him.
He had planned to show her evidence proving Dominic used her fear to maintain control.
The fatal shooting had indeed been accidental.
Isabella's confession confirmed it.
She begged Anthony not to reveal Vincent's paternity.
Anthony refused to keep lying.
They struggled over the weapon Isabella brought.
It fired.
Anthony died in her arms.
Dominic arrived.
Instead of helping Isabella tell the truth, he used her guilt to control her.
He ordered Ryan to eliminate Elena.
Matteo saved her.
Vincent read Anthony's final paragraph.
The Romano name is not an inheritance you owe anyone.
If it becomes a cage, leave it.
You always wanted to prove you were strong enough to carry the family.
Maybe strength is knowing when to put it down.
Vincent folded the letter.
For nearly forty years, every choice in his life revolved around being a Romano.
Now his dead brother was giving him permission not to be one.
“What would you do?” he asked Clara.
She almost laughed.
“You're asking the maid for succession advice?”
“You stopped being the maid somewhere around the church fire.”
“When?”
“Probably when you ran back for financial records while the building was burning.”
“Fair.”
She thought.
“If your name disappeared tomorrow, who would you be?”
Vincent stared.
“I don't know.”
“Then maybe find out.”
Dominic was charged with racketeering, conspiracy, obstruction and multiple attempted murders.
Ryan faced charges too.
Clara filed for divorce.
For the first time, Ryan did not contest it.
His attorney delivered a letter.
She didn't read it.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
Elena moved in temporarily with Clara.
The sisters fought almost immediately.
“You lied for six years.”
“I was alive because I lied.”
“You could have found another way.”
“I didn't know one.”
Clara cried.
“I needed you.”
Elena cried too.
“I know.”
Rebuilding a sister relationship was messier than the reunion.
That made it real.
Vincent began dismantling parts of his empire.
Illegal freight arrangements ended.
Nightclubs tied to laundering were sold.
Several men left.
Some angrily.
Some relieved.
Legitimate companies remained under independent management.
Matteo asked:
“What am I supposed to do if we're legal?”
Vincent replied:
“Learn taxes.”
Matteo looked horrified.
Clara laughed for several minutes.
Vincent later offered Clara a job in the new compliance office.
She stared at the salary.
“No.”
“You haven't read the responsibilities.”
“I read the salary.”
“Problem?”
“It's insulting.”
“Too low?”
“Too high.”
Vincent frowned.
“That is not a complaint I've heard before.”
“I won't become the woman everyone thinks slept her way into an executive office.”
His expression hardened.
“I don't care what they think.”
“I do.”
He paused.
Good.
Then:
“What would make it acceptable?”
“Independent interview.”
“Fine.”
“Board approval.”
“Fine.”
“I report to someone other than you.”
He hated that.
“Fine.”
She smiled.
“You're learning.”
“I dislike it.”
Clara interviewed.
The board hired her.
Director of Internal Controls.
Not because Vincent ordered it.
Because she decoded Anthony's ledger and had years of forensic experience.
Three months passed.
Her bruises faded.
Ryan's divorce became final.
Vincent never touched her romantically.
Not once.
That restraint became increasingly noticeable.
One evening, Clara found him in the kitchen.
He was making coffee badly.
“You own three restaurants.”
“Yes.”
“How can you be this bad at coffee?”
“Delegation.”
She took the mug away.
Their hands touched.
Neither moved.
Clara looked at him.
“You've been avoiding me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I work here.”
“Different building.”
“You report independently.”
“Yes.”
“Your divorce is final.”
“Yes.”
“You're no longer physically injured.”
“Also yes.”
Vincent looked uncomfortable.
Clara smiled.
“You ran out of reasons.”
“No.”
“What reason remains?”
“You deserve time to understand whether you want me or whether I was simply the first man who made you feel protected after Ryan.”
The smile disappeared.
That was annoyingly thoughtful.
“You've been in therapy.”
Vincent looked offended.
“Matteo told you?”
“No. Nobody raised in your family reaches that sentence naturally.”
He almost laughed.
Clara stepped closer.
“I know the difference.”
“Between what?”
“Safety and attraction.”
“And?”
She kissed him.
Vincent froze.
For once, Clara enjoyed surprising him.
Then he kissed her back.
Carefully.
No urgency.
No ownership.
When they separated, Vincent whispered:
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Completely?”
“Ask me a fourth time and I'll reconsider.”
He smiled.
Then the kitchen window shattered.
Vincent pulled Clara down.
A bullet struck the wall.
Security alarms erupted.
Matteo ran in.
“Shooter outside the eastern fence!”
Vincent covered Clara.
She looked at him.
“Dominic is in federal custody.”
“Yes.”
“Ryan too.”
“Yes.”
“Then who?”
Matteo received a radio message.
His face changed.
“It's not them.”
“Who?”
He looked at Clara.
“The shooter left a note.”
Vincent took it.
One sentence:
ELENA SHOULD HAVE DIED SIX YEARS AGO.
Clara stopped breathing.
The conspiracy had survived Dominic.
May you like
Someone else still wanted her sister dead.
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