Chapter 3 - The House With Too Many Guards
Roman’s new house wasn’t the mansion Nora remembered.
It stood outside the city behind iron gates and tall pine trees.
Modern.
Quiet.
Heavily guarded.
Noah pressed his face against the car window.
“Is this a castle?”
“No,” Nora said.
Roman glanced back.
“Technically.”
She gave him a look.
“No.”
Roman smirked.
Noah laughed.
Nora hated how natural it sounded.
Inside, Noah immediately noticed the enormous staircase.
“Can I slide down that?”
“No,” Nora and Roman said together.
They looked at each other.
Noah grinned.
“You said it at the same time.”
Roman took off his coat.
Captain Red fell from the pocket.
Noah grabbed it.
“You kept him safe.”
“I promised.”
Noah hugged the toy.
“Good job.”
Roman watched him.
Nora saw the emotion flash across his face.
She looked away.
Marco entered from the hall.
“We have something.”
Roman turned.
“To the office.”
Nora followed.
“Noah stays with me.”
Roman nodded.
“Of course.”
Inside the office, Marco placed several documents on the desk.
“The landlord in Hartford wasn’t working for Vittorio.”
Roman scanned the papers.
“Then who?”
Marco said nothing.
Roman looked up.
“Marco.”
“Your father.”
Silence.
Nora frowned.
“Your father is dead.”
Roman didn’t move.
Marco answered.
“We believed he was.”
Roman’s father, Salvatore DeLuca, had supposedly died in Sicily sixteen years earlier.
Roman rarely spoke about him.
Nora remembered one thing.
He had hated the man.
Roman looked at Marco.
“Evidence.”
“Bank transfers. Shell companies. Surveillance accounts.”
Nora stared.
“He was watching me?”
“For years,” Marco said.
“Why?”
Roman’s expression darkened.
“To get to me.”
Nora shook her head.
“Why use Noah?”
Roman looked at her.
“Because Noah is something I would destroy everything to protect.”
She went quiet.
Marco continued.
“Salvatore disappeared after the internal war. Vittorio told everyone he was dead.”
Roman’s voice became cold.
“So Vittorio lied.”
“Looks that way.”
“And now?”
Marco slid a photograph forward.
An older man stepped from a black vehicle outside South Station.
Silver hair.
Sharp face.
Roman’s eyes.
Nora whispered, “That’s him?”
Roman nodded.
“My father.”
Noah appeared in the doorway.
Everyone stopped.
He held Captain Red.
“Can I have juice?”
Nora immediately moved toward him.
“Yes.”
Roman followed.
Noah looked at Roman.
“You too.”
Roman blinked.
“Me too?”
“Juice.”
Roman glanced at Nora.
She shrugged.
Five minutes later, the most feared crime boss in Boston sat at a kitchen island drinking apple juice from a glass while his four-year-old son explained airplane mechanics.
“Captain Red needs bigger wings.”
Roman examined the toy.
“That would make him slower.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Roman raised an eyebrow.
Noah raised the exact same eyebrow.
Nora nearly laughed.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You smiled.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Noah pointed.
“Mom smiled.”
Nora shook her head.
“Traitor.”
Noah giggled.
Then the lights went out.
Roman instantly stood.
“Stay here.”
Emergency lighting clicked on.
Marco’s voice came through Roman’s earpiece.
“Perimeter breach.”
Nora grabbed Noah.
Roman moved toward the hallway.
“Roman.”
He turned.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Nora said, “Come back.”
His expression softened.
“I will.”
Noah ran toward him.
“Captain Red.”
He held out the airplane.
Roman hesitated.
Noah pushed it into his hand.
“He protects you.”
May you like
Roman took it.
“Then I’m definitely coming back.”
