Chapter 2 - The Name Everyone Feared
I learned who Roman DeLuca was inside an armored SUV speeding through Chicago.
Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to know already.
His security chief, Marco, pressed gauze against Roman’s side.
“We need the hospital.”
“No hospital.”
“You’ve been shot.”
“I noticed.”
I sat opposite them.
“Why no hospital?”
Marco looked at Roman.
Roman answered.
“Because whoever arranged tonight may have people watching emergency rooms.”
“That sentence is deeply concerning.”
“You’re handling it well.”
“I’m considering jumping out.”
“The doors are locked.”
“That is significantly more concerning.”
Marco almost laughed.
Roman didn’t.
“Claire, listen carefully. The men tonight weren’t random.”
“I assumed that from the guns.”
“They knew my route.”
“So somebody betrayed you.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Now I find out who.”
The SUV turned sharply.
I grabbed the seat.
“And what happens to me?”
“You stay somewhere protected.”
“No.”
“Claire—”
“I have an apartment. I have a job. My sister is expecting me.”
Roman became quiet.
“You have family?”
“My younger sister, Lena.”
“Does she live with you?”
“No.”
“Address?”
I frowned.
“Absolutely not.”
Roman spoke to Marco.
“Find her.”
I slammed my cane against the floor.
“No.”
The vehicle went silent.
“Do not investigate my sister.”
“I’m protecting her.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Roman leaned forward despite the pain.
“Men followed me through three neighborhoods tonight. They murdered one of my drivers and tried to finish me in an alley. They saw you protecting me.”
His voice softened.
“If they identify you, they may identify Lena.”
That stopped me.
“Would they hurt her?”
“Yes.”
At least he did not lie.
I swallowed.
“What do you want?”
“Let my people protect both of you until I know who ordered the attack.”
“And then?”
“You go home.”
“You promise?”
Roman hesitated.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
I held out my hand.
Marco sounded confused.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting his word.”
Roman stared at my hand before taking it.
His palm was large, cold, and rough.
“I give you my word.”
We arrived at a private residence twenty minutes later.
A doctor was waiting.
Roman refused treatment until Marco confirmed Lena was safe.
“She’s home,” Marco reported. “Two guards outside. She hasn’t been approached.”
“Good.”
I pointed toward Roman.
“Now stitch up the idiot.”
The doctor laughed.
Nobody else did.
Roman said, “You enjoy ordering dangerous men around.”
“I enjoy keeping stubborn men alive.”
Hours later, I sat in a library with dry clothes someone had found for me.
Roman entered slowly.
“You should be resting.”
“So should you.”
He sat opposite me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked, “How did you know where those men were?”
“I listened.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
I explained how rain changed sound. How footsteps revealed weight, direction, hesitation. How echoes changed near walls.
Roman listened without interrupting.
“So when everyone else sees less in a storm,” he said, “you hear more.”
“Sometimes.”
His phone rang.
Marco entered moments later.
“We found something.”
Roman’s voice hardened.
“What?”
“The attack wasn’t only about killing you.”
Marco put something on the table.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A photograph,” Roman said.
“Of?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“You.”
My stomach tightened.
“That’s impossible.”
“It was taken three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks?”
“Outside your apartment.”
I stood.
“Why would someone photograph me before I ever met you?”
Roman turned toward Marco.
May you like
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
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