Chapter 6 - THE MIDWIFE WHO CALLED THE POLICERoman stared at Josephine as officers moved through the room.
“What did you do?”
She crossed her arms.
“What you should have done.”
Matteo lunged toward a side door.
Two agents tackled him.
Salvatore remained seated.
He looked at Josephine as though she were an interesting insect.
“You have no idea what you’ve stepped into.”
Josephine looked back.
“I’ve been hearing that a lot.”
Roman stood.
“You followed me?”
“Dominic helped.”
Roman turned.
Dominic stood in the hall.
“You.”
Dominic shrugged.
“She threatened to drive herself.”
“I did not.”
“You said you’d steal my keys.”
“That is different.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Salvatore laughed.
The sound was surprisingly warm.
“You really are finished, Roman.”
Roman looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you let a woman make decisions.”
Josephine’s expression sharpened.
Roman, however, smiled.
Not pleasantly.
“That sentence explains why you were always going to lose.”
Salvatore’s face changed.
Federal agents handcuffed Matteo.
Then one approached Salvatore.
“Salvatore DeLuca, you are under arrest—”
The lights went out.
Everything became black.
Gunfire exploded.
Josephine dropped.
Roman reached her before she hit the floor.
“Stay down!”
Men shouted.
Glass shattered.
Dominic fired toward the doorway.
Emergency lights flickered on red.
Matteo was gone.
One federal agent lay wounded.
Salvatore’s chair was empty.
Roman swore.
Josephine crawled toward the injured agent.
“Josephine!”
“He’s bleeding!”
“Stay down!”
She ignored him.
The agent had a gunshot wound high in the thigh.
Arterial.
Josephine tore off her belt.
“Pressure!”
Another agent dropped beside her.
Together they improvised a tourniquet.
Roman crouched behind a stone column, weapon drawn.
Someone fired from the hallway.
Roman returned two shots.
Then silence.
Sirens approached from outside.
Dominic shouted, “Rear exit!”
Roman ran.
He reached the alley just in time to see a dark SUV accelerate away.
Salvatore and Matteo inside.
Roman raised his gun.
He had the shot.
For one second, the entire old world stood before him.
Aim.
Fire.
End threat.
Create another.
The SUV turned.
Roman lowered the weapon.
Dominic stared at him.
“You had him.”
Roman said nothing.
Inside, Josephine was helping paramedics stabilize the wounded agent.
Roman watched her.
“You had him,” Dominic repeated.
Roman looked at his oldest friend.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you shoot?”
Roman’s eyes remained on Josephine.
“Because I’m tired of solving every problem by creating the next funeral.”
Dominic studied him.
Then nodded once.
That was the moment Roman’s empire began to crack.
Not when Salvatore betrayed him.
Not when Matteo kidnapped Elena.
When Roman chose not to pull the trigger.
By morning, word spread.
Old allies stopped answering calls.
Truck drivers loyal to Matteo abandoned routes.
Two restaurants closed without explanation.
A warehouse manager disappeared.
Three accountants requested emergency leave.
Fear was changing sides.
Roman spent the next twelve hours inside the conference room of DeLuca Holdings.
Not the hidden operation.
The legitimate company.
Lawyers sat around him.
So did accountants.
Dominic stood near the window.
Josephine sat in a corner eating pretzels from a vending machine.
Roman looked at her.
“Why are you still here?”
She chewed.
“Good question.”
“You have work.”
“Clinic closed today.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Someone threw a brick through the front window last night.”
Roman stood.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“I’ll replace it.”
“No.”
He stared.
Josephine sighed.
“We have insurance.”
“This is because of me.”
“Probably.”
“I’ll pay.”
“No.”
“Josephine.”
“Roman.”
One of the attorneys looked between them.
“This happens often?”
Dominic nodded.
“All day.”
Josephine threw a pretzel at him.
It bounced off his jacket.
For one brief second, the room almost felt normal.
Then the lead attorney slid a folder toward Roman.
“If you cooperate fully with investigators, we can protect the legitimate companies. But not everything.”
Roman opened it.
“What does fully mean?”
“Financial records. Names. Properties. Shell companies. Past transactions.”
Dominic went still.
Roman looked at him.
“Say it.”
Dominic hesitated.
“Some men won’t survive prison.”
Josephine looked up.
Roman’s face hardened.
“Some people didn’t survive what we did outside prison.”
The room became quiet.
Dominic absorbed that.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“If you open the books, there is no organization after this.”
Roman leaned back.
“That’s the point.”
Dominic stared at him.
“You built this for fifteen years.”
“My father built it. I inherited it. Then I told myself making it cleaner made it different.”
He looked at his own hands.
“It didn’t.”
Josephine said nothing.
Roman turned to the lawyers.
“Prepare everything.”
One attorney frowned.
“You understand you may expose yourself criminally.”
“Yes.”
“Prison is possible.”
Josephine’s head lifted.
Roman did not look at her.
“I understand.”
The meeting ended at four.
Outside, Boston was turning blue with winter evening.
Josephine found Roman alone on the roof.
Wind pulled at his coat.
“You might go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You seem very calm.”
“I’m not.”
She stood beside him.
“Why now?”
Roman looked across the city.
“My nephew weighs four pounds.”
Josephine waited.
“He grabbed my finger.”
A small smile touched her mouth.
“That’s what did it?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You did.”
Josephine’s breath caught.
Roman continued before she could respond.
“You told me people don’t stop being people because they made bad choices.”
“That wasn’t absolution.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean consequences disappear.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer.
“You were the first person in years who looked at me and didn’t see something to fear, use, impress or obey.”
Josephine swallowed.
“I was mostly annoyed.”
“Yes.”
“I’m still annoyed.”
“I know.”
His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth.
Then back.
Josephine noticed.
So did he.
Neither moved.
Finally she whispered, “Roman.”
His phone rang.
They both nearly laughed.
Roman answered.
Dominic’s voice came sharp through the speaker.
“Hospital. Now.”
Roman’s face changed.
“Elena?”
“No.”
Dominic hesitated.
“The baby.”
Roman was already moving.
They reached the NICU twelve minutes later.
Elena stood outside Marco’s room crying.
Roman’s heart stopped.
“What happened?”
A neonatologist approached.
“Your nephew had an apnea episode with significant bradycardia.”
Roman stared.
“English.”
“He stopped breathing briefly, and his heart rate dropped.”
Josephine stepped closer.
“Is he stable?”
“Yes. He responded well.”
Roman gripped the wall.
Elena collapsed against him.
For once, he did not offer money.
Did not call anyone.
Did not fix.
He simply held his sister.
Josephine watched.
Minutes later, Elena whispered, “You have to stop.”
Roman looked down.
“This.”
She gestured vaguely toward the world outside.
“Whatever Dad left you. Whatever Uncle Salvatore wants.”
“I’m trying.”
“No.”
Elena pulled back.
“I need a promise.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“Don’t ask me for promises I can’t keep.”
“Then become somebody who can.”
He stared.
Elena looked through the NICU window at her son.
“I want Marco to know his uncle.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“And I want him to have a childhood where nobody teaches him which window to crawl out of if gunfire starts.”
Josephine’s throat tightened.
Roman opened his eyes.
“Okay.”
Elena blinked.
“Okay?”
“I’m done.”
The words were simple.
They changed everything.
Across town, inside an empty warehouse, Salvatore DeLuca received the news.
Roman was turning over the books.
Every account.
Every name.
Every secret.
Matteo slammed a fist into a table.
“He’ll destroy us.”
Salvatore remained very still.
Then he picked up a photograph.
Josephine Mercer leaving the clinic.
“No,” he said.
“He’ll destroy himself.”
May you like
He set the photograph down.
“And we’ll make sure he understands exactly what that costs.”
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