by Rye Hart
And when he had side-stepped my question, it was because I was right.
I put my coffee cup down on the table and rushed back up to Matteo’s room. I dug the key out of my pocket and whipped his door open. I locked it behind me and snuggled in bed with him, listening as his soft snores fell from his lips. I was scared. Alone. Worried about my uncle’s true motivations. The more I uncovered, the more I found that what Romeo was saying had plausible grounds to be true.
And now, I had nowhere to take my son where we could live without the shadow of my uncle over us.
There was only one person I could trust, one person I could go to that I knew would help me and keep our best interests at heart.
I only hoped he picked up the phone after I’d slapped him in the middle of the park.
CHAPTER 21
ROMEO
“Talk to me, Bradshaw.”
“It doesn’t look good,” he said. “The police precinct is up in arms.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The detective claims to have found a ring at the docks, and it has the Martine family insignia on it.”
“That’s not possible,” I said. “I don’t even wear my ring, and I told my bodyguards to take them off before they got out of the car.”
“It’s looking bad for you either way,” he said. “The investigators have zeroed in on you, and you’re now their prime suspect because of that ring.”
“Is that all they have?”
“When it comes to your family, it’s all they need. It’s bad, Romeo. If I were you, I’d get your affairs in order,” he said.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I said flatly.
I hung up the phone with my connection in the police department and rushed to my father’s office. I bounded down the stairs and threw open the massive double doors. I pulled everything off the shelves. Books. Paperweights. I picked up his computer and threw open all his drawers. My father kept every personal belonging and every sentimental item he could’ve ever wanted in his office. He had hiding places for his hiding places, and I tore the damn place apart. I opened books I knew he’d cut the pages out in and I looked in the safes behind all the dummy walls. I flipped over his damn chair and turned his desk drawers inside out.
But it was a picture of him and Mom that caught my eye.
I reached for it and plucked it from the window sill. Why did he have a picture on the damn window sill? I flipped it over and saw nothing, but then I looked over to where the picture had been sitting.
And there was the slightest protrusion from the wall.
I reached out for it and pressed it in. A small compartment slid out, and I peered inside. Nothing was in there but a small gray rag.
The type of rag used to shine pure silver.
I was fuming. Now I knew why those assholes were in my house that night. My father kept his ring in that small compartment, pressed against the shining rag so its sheen would never fade.
That was what they took.
I slammed the compartment shut and straightened my father’s office. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d been in there. I was being set up, I was sure of it now. And by someone who had intimate details of my father’s office. Which made sense. If my father and Julia’s father were trying to broker peace between them, then a show of trust would’ve been necessary. That ring was my father’s prized possession. The one thing he held above all else in his life. The day he earned that ring was the proudest moment of his life. Because it was the day he proved he was a man worthy of all his father had run. It was the day he became the man he thought we all wanted him to be.
My father would’ve told Giuliano where to find this ring as a show of trust.
But even with all this information, I didn’t know what to do with it. All I knew was I had to do something. Julia and Matteo were sleeping with a raging giant, and they didn’t know it. I was the only one who could expose him for what he was really doing. I strode out to my car and high-tailed it back to Vincent’s, speeding down back roads and making sure I wasn’t followed before I parked my car behind his house.
I knocked on his back door. He answered, pulling me into the house before shutting the door.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s watching my house. Were you followed?” he asked.
“Who’s watching your house?”
“Were you followed?” he asked again as he peered out the window.
“No. I wasn’t. Promise.”
“Good. Why are you here?” he asked.
“My father’s ring.”
“What?”
“That’s what they took that night. My father’s ring. And guess where it resurfaced?”
“Shit.”
“Yes. Now I need you to answer me something.”
“Shoot,” he said.
“Did my father tell Giuliano where that ring was as a show of trust before they started their talks?” I asked.
“I don’t know what your father did, but I do know Giuliano was brought into his office once. And only once. So it’s possible that was what your father did.”
“Is there any reason why my father would’ve told Stefano that?”
“No, never. But Stefano and Giuliano were close. It wouldn’t surprise me if he told him about the ring, thinking he could trust his own brother.”
“What the fuck,” I said with a groan.
“I’ve got news of my own, but I haven’t been able to call because I don’t know who’s tracking me yet.”
“What did you find? Help me, and I’ll get whoever the fuck it is off your tail.”
“I can take care of myself. I took care of your father for close to two decades. I’m good. But there’s a cop in the police department. Name’s Johnson. He’s on Stefano’s payroll. If there’s anyone who planted that ring, it’s him.”
“That’s the only cop on his payroll?” I asked.
“That’s all I can find, yeah. It would’ve been easy to plant as well. All he needed was that ring, an evidence bag, and a bit of chaos to slip it into the evidence room. And with Johnson being a long-time cop, he’d have unfettered access without anyone asking questions.”
“How the hell am I supposed to prove that?” I asked.
“I can only think of a few things. One thing that plays in your favor is the ring not being cataloged.”
“My source said the detective claims he found it on the dock,” I said.
“But you know that didn’t happen. That break-in to get your father’s ring was days after that happened, right?”
“Right.”
“The detective’s simply covering his ass. If you can find a way to get him to admit that nobody officially cataloged the ring at the scene of the crime, you’ve got reasonable doubt right there. Do you and your father share the same ring size?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
“If you don’t, that plays in your favor as well. The lack of your DNA on the ring will also play in your favor since you’ve never worn the damn thing and they’re probably claiming it’s yours.”
“They are.”
“So you’ve got a few things in play, but your biggest bet is to prove that someone planted the ring. Prove that it was stolen from your property and planted by that cop. Or anyone, for that matter.”
“Right. That’s all I have to do,” I said sarcastically.
“This is life or death, Romeo. This is our family versus theirs, and the one you’ve made is caught in the middle of a war neither of them sees. It’s not going to be easy. It never is.”
“This was why you left, wasn’t it?” I asked.
Vincent’s face grew somber, and I leaned against the wall.
“It is,” he said.
“I’m sorry I dropped this on your front porch.”
“Don’t be. I advised your father on many things, but he never listened much. It’s an honor to advise you and see how you’ve improved upon your father’s standards.�
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“All I want is for the business to be legitimate.”
“And all Stefano wants is complete and total control.”
“I have to stop this. I have to find a way to prove that ring was planted,” I said.
“Then why the hell are you still standing here?” he asked. “Go. Save the world. Do what your father wanted to do during the last years of his life. Make peace, Romeo.”
“You stay safe. You’re the only person I trust right now.”
“Trust no one, Romeo. Not even me. Be wary of everyone you encounter. It’s the only way you will make it out of this alive.”
I stared into the eyes of a man ruined by this life, and I made a promise right then and there. I would do whatever it took and foil whatever plan Stefano had up his sleeve to make this right. This business—this feud—had cost too many people too much. It had to stop, and it stopped with me.
With Julia.
With Matteo.
“I’ll keep in touch,” I said.
“Stay safe, Romeo.”
Then I left through Vincent’s back door and made my way home.
It was time for me to make my own plans.
CHAPTER 22
JULIA
I sat there with my phone in my hands outside of a park on the outskirts of the city. I told Enrico and my uncle that Matteo was missing his friends and that I wanted to find a place for him to be with kids his age. Enrico didn’t like the fact that I didn’t let him tag along, but my uncle seemed elated at the situation. He said it “meant we were sticking around” and that it would be a “good meeting spot” for Romeo and me.
I let him believe what he wanted.
I sat on a bench and watched for over an hour. I wanted to see if anyone would poke their head in to look at my son or not. If Enrico would come by or if Stefano would somehow track us down. Matteo was already running around with another little boy, and they were building blocks together.
It made me smile.
I looked down at my phone, watching as my finger ran across Romeo’s number. I was desperate. Tears welled in my eyes. My head was telling me to grab my son and run for the hills. I had a college degree. I could find a job and a way to support us. I could get us away from all of this forever.
But my heart ached for Romeo.
I pressed his number and held the phone to my ear as I wiped away my tears. I didn’t want him to be overly alarmed.
“Julia?”
“Hey there.”
My voice cracked, and I winced.
“What's wrong? Where are you?” he asked, suddenly on high alert.
“I was wondering if we could talk?” I asked.
“Where are you? I’ll come get you. Is Matteo okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s playing with a new friend.”
“Tell me where you are, Julia.”
I sighed and closed my eyes as I put my head in my hands.
“I’m at Benton Park the outskirts of town..”
“I can come to you, or you can come here. My mother and Antony are both out, so if you want to speak in private, then you’re more than welcome here.”
“I think speaking in private might be for the best. I’ll have someone meet me to look after Matteo, and I’ll be over.”
“I’m unlocking the door for you. Come straight upstairs. We can talk in my room,” he said.
“I’ll see you soon.”
I called an old friend from college who lived in the area. She had a little girl around Matteo’s age and they had had a couple of play dates over the years. Shelley agreed to take Matteo for a couple of hours so that I could take care of what I needed to. I dropped him off at her house and headed to Romeo’s.
I drove across town and kept eyes on all my mirrors. I was paranoid, and rightfully so. The more I thought about what Romeo said, the more it made sense. My uncle’s reaction, Romeo’s insistence. I still didn’t want to believe that my uncle was responsible for my father’s death, but I did think there was a possibility he was trying to capitalize on an opportunity presented to him.
Stefano was nothing if not an opportunist.
I pulled into the driveway of Romeo’s home. The garage door was open, and there was an empty parking space. I took the hint and pulled in, then the door automatically began closing behind me. I quickly scrambled out of the car and walked through the covered walkway that connected the four-car garage to the main house.
And I ran straight for Romeo’s room.
I threw his door open and ran straight into his arms. He held them out wide for me and encased me in the warmth I’d always associated with him. I was trembling. Tears were pouring over my cheeks. I was petrified for my safety and the safety of our son, and I had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to.
“Ssshhh,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Something isn’t right,” I said between gasps for breath.
“Come. Sit by me,” he said.
Romeo inched us over to the bed, and we sat down on the edge of it.
“Tell me what happened,” he said as he released my body.
I didn’t want him to let me go.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I said.
“The beginning. Start from the beginning.”
“When I met you in the park, I left Matteo with my bodyguard and Stefano. And my son overheard a conversation my uncle was having with someone.”
“What did he hear?” he asked.
“He said he heard Stefano say ‘it’s time to kill him.’ Matteo was asking me if Stefano was a killer and said he was a ‘mean man’ and didn’t want me leaving him with my uncle any longer.”
I saw Romeo clench his jaw as I wiped at my eyes.
“Then Stefano caught me in the kitchen , and I might have confronted him with some things.”
“What things?” he asked.
“I asked him if us having a child somehow put our family businesses in a place to be merged. In a place for him and you to sit in the same seat. I told him I wanted to know because that could make things hairy for us reconciling. You know, merging businesses with all the bad blood between our families.”
“What did he say?”
“He automatically accused me of making it seem like I was painting him to be someone that wanted nothing but power and control. But he didn’t deny it. He said ‘even if it did.’ He sidestepped it, Romeo. So I asked him, point blank if he was trying to expose you to the police after I brought up my concerns about you and the gun runners.”
“What happened then?”
“He erupted. Said I was a spoiled, selfish brat that had no issues using my father’s blood money for my own whims while spitting on his job. He said that if I left with Matteo, he couldn’t keep us safe. It sounded like a threat Romeo. He’s trapped us, and I don’t know what to do, and he was maniacal, Romeo. Absolutely crazy. I’ve never seen him like that.”
Romeo gathered me in his arms again and ran his fingers through my hair, trying to calm me down.
“What is happening? Why is he doing this?” I asked as I leaned into his strong touch.
“I had a conversation with my contact as well,” he said.
“What did they say?” I asked as I leaned up to look into his eyes.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“What did they say?” I asked again. “I need to know.”
But he didn’t tell me. He only unraveled his hands from my body and sat up straight.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I have to play my cards close to my chest, Julia. And you live with the man who I think is trying to take me out.”
“You don’t think you can trust me? I’m telling you that I’m afraid for our child’s life and you think I’m playing you?”
“I’m wary of everyone I’m interacting with right now. Especially after the last conversation we had.”
I shook my head as I stood from the bed.
“You ran to me, desperate to c
onvince me of what my uncle was doing. Now I’m here telling you that I believe you—that our son has overheard him talking about how it’s time to take someone out—and you suddenly can’t trust me?”
“Julia, it isn’t—”
“What? It isn’t what? Romeo, if you couldn’t trust me, then why did you let me come over? Why am I in your room? My uncle is insistent on us getting closer, on us seeing one another and reconciling. Now, more than ever, I know that’s how he’s trying to get to you. He’s making me feel like it’s my fault for bringing it this far, but it’s not. It’s him. He’s being manipulative and orchestrating this from the shadows, and I know that now, Romeo. He has slipped up in front of my son. Our son.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed again and took Romeo’s hands within mine. I could feel him shaking. His eyes were stoic, but his body was betraying him.
He never could hide from me.
“I’m in your corner,” I said. “But you have to talk with me.”
“I figured out what was stolen from my home that night,” Romeo said.
“Good. What did they take?”
“My father’s family ring with the Martine insignia. And it surfaced in an evidence bag in the case locker having to do with the dead gun runners.”
“And you weren’t wearing it that night?” I asked.
“I’ve never touched it. I didn’t even know until last night where my father kept it.”
“That doesn't make sense then. Someone had to have planted it,” I said.
“Someone did. My contact said Stefano has cop in his pocket, an Officer Johnson. He thinks that if anyone planted the ring, it was him.”
“How would my uncle have known about—”
“My father’s act of trust to yours was showing Giuliano where he kept his most prized possession. My father cherished that ring. He rarely wore it. The only times I saw him wear it were for formal occasions or important business meetings. That was it. That would’ve been the ultimate sign of trust from my father to yours.”
