Chapter 5 - Sins of the Family
Victor froze, his eyes widening in shock as he spun around toward the window.
His two enforcers tried to raise their weapons, but before they could clear their holsters, two muffled thuds echoed from the doorway. Frank Mercer stepped out of the shadows, dropping both bodyguards to the floor with precise, silenced shots to their chests.
Victor was left standing alone in the center of my study, his flashlight rolling across the rug, illuminating his pale, sweat-slicked face.
"Roman..." Victor stammered, lifting his hands slowly into the air. "You... you weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow night."
"You made two critical errors, Uncle," I said, stepping out from behind the velvet drapes, keeping my gun leveled at his head. "First, you assumed my housekeeper was weak enough to break under terror. Second, you forgot whose house this is."
Victor let out a harsh, desperate laugh, trying to mask his fear with bravado. "She’s a servant, Roman! A nobody from the South End! You’re going to threaten your own blood over a housemaid?"
"She is worth ten of you," I said, my voice dangerously calm as I stepped into his personal space, pressing the cold steel barrel of my pistol directly against his temple. "Where is the rest of your crew?"
Victor swallowed hard, the arrogance melting from his face. "There is no crew. It's just me and Julian Vance's syndicate from New York. Julian promised me fifty million dollars if I delivered your father's Red Ledger. They’re waiting at the docks right now!"
"Julian Vance," I repeated.
Vance was a rival boss from Manhattan who had been trying to expand his drug network into Boston for five years. My father and I had blocked him at every turn.
"Your father was a fool, Roman!" Victor hissed, his eyes flashing with old resentment. "He built this empire, and then he spent his final years feeling guilty! He wanted to turn everything over to charity! He wanted to give Grace's family half the estate!"
I paused, my eyes narrowing. "What did you just say?"
Victor sneered. "You don't even know, do you? You think Grace is just a housekeeper? Her father, Thomas Harper, was your father's business partner thirty years ago! Your father betrayed Thomas to take full control of the shipping docks! Thomas died in prison, broke and disgraced!"
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
I looked toward the dark stairwell leading down to the basement where Grace had lived for eight years.
"My father didn't betray Thomas," I said slowly, the memory of an old conversation with my father returning from the deep recesses of my mind. "You did."
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Victor’s mouth snapped shut.
"Seventeen years ago," I continued, realization dawning upon me, "my father sealed this room because he discovered that you were the one who planted the fake evidence that framed Thomas Harper. My father took Grace into this house eight years ago to protect her from you!"
