Chapter 7 - The Downfall of Crown Street
We all turned around.
Roman Vale stood in the doorway of his home. He had returned early.
He walked down the marble steps slowly, holding a black leather folder in his hand. Beside him walked two men in charcoal suits holding federal badges.
"What?" Arthur Vance whispered, his face turning the color of chalk.
"Twenty minutes ago, the Baltimore Port Authority board voted ninety-two to eight to renew my company’s logistics contract for the next thirty years," Roman said quietly, stopping on the lower step. "And while Silas Kincaid was attempting to bribe the board members in the anteroom, the FBI’s Waterfront Corruption Task Force executed seven search warrants on his offices in Harbor Row."
Roman tossed the black leather folder onto the hood of Arthur Vance’s silver SUV.
"That folder contains recorded phone calls between you and Victor Kincaid from last night, Arthur," Roman continued, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Arranging a fifty-thousand-dollar wire transfer into your offshore account in Grand Cayman in exchange for fabricating today’s CPS emergency order."
Arthur Vance collapsed onto his knees in the wet gravel of the driveway, clutching his chest, sobbing hysterically.
The two federal agents walked down the steps, clicked handcuffs around Arthur Vance’s wrists, and hauled him toward the back of the unmarked police cruiser.
The media trucks outside the gates were going wild, their long camera lenses zoomed in on the scene unfolding on the marble driveway.
Roman didn't look at the cameras. He didn't look at Arthur Vance being dragged away.
He walked over to where I was standing on the portico, looking down at me with an expression that combined immense relief, profound pride, and something far deeper that neither of us had yet dared to name.
"You held the house," Roman whispered.
"I told you I would," I replied, a small, tired smile breaking across my face.
"Silas and Victor Kincaid are in federal custody," Roman said, stepping closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. "The story in the Post is being retracted. It’s over, Mara. My family is safe."
"Your family," I repeated softly, looking back toward the nursery windows where my sister Clara was standing, holding Lila in her arms, waving down at us with a massive grin.
May you like
"Our family," Roman corrected gently. "If you'll have us."
My heart did a slow, heavy flip inside my chest.
