Chapter 5 - ROMAN’S SISTER TOLD CAMILLE WHY SHE RAN
Trevor never reached the exchange.
Someone took Serena first.
The location he sent was an abandoned freight office near Joliet.
Federal agents entered quietly.
No Trevor.
No Serena.
Blood on the floor.
Not much.
A broken chair.
Zip ties.
One discarded phone.
Dominic Kessler’s men had arrived before them.
Trevor had underestimated his partner.
Again.
For thirty-seven minutes, Roman said almost nothing.
Camille had seen anger in men before.
Trevor shouted when angry.
Her father paced.
Roman became still.
That was worse.
Rebecca Sloan stood in the command room watching live traffic feeds.
“We have a vehicle.”
“What?” Roman asked.
“Black Suburban left the property eighteen minutes before our team arrived.”
“Plate?”
“Stolen.”
“Route?”
“West.”
Roman immediately turned.
Camille stepped into his path.
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“Move.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find my sister.”
“Your people and federal agents are already looking.”
“They are not enough.”
“Maybe.”
His jaw tightened.
“Camille.”
“You told me Serena ran because she thought you would control her.”
His face changed.
“Do not use that now.”
“I’m using it because it’s true.”
Nadia whispered, “Camille.”
Camille did not stop.
“If you respond to losing control by becoming exactly the man she feared, what happens when you find her?”
Roman’s eyes went cold.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Think.”
“I am thinking.”
“No.”
Camille stepped closer.
“You are reacting.”
For one dangerous second, nobody breathed.
Then Roman turned away.
His hands curled.
He looked at Rebecca.
“Tell me what you need.”
Rebecca nodded once.
“Vehicle networks. Private toll cameras. Freight-yard access.”
“You’ll have them.”
“Legally.”
Roman almost laughed.
“You take all the fun out of this.”
Camille felt tension break slightly.
Twenty minutes later, one of Roman’s logistics companies provided camera footage from a private freight corridor.
Black Suburban.
Westbound.
Then north.
A second car joined it.
One passenger visible.
Woman.
Serena.
Alive.
At 1:40 a.m., agents found the vehicles outside a rural property near Rockford.
The house was empty.
But Serena had left something.
A bloody handprint on a bathroom mirror.
Under it, written with red lipstick:
VINCENT
Roman stared at the photograph.
“My uncle.”
Camille’s chest tightened.
Noah’s ledger named Vincent.
Vincent had paid Elliot.
Vincent had connections to Dominic.
“Could Vincent have Serena?”
Roman looked sick.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she is the last person Noah told everything to.”
Before Roman could say more, a phone rang inside the Rockford house.
Old landline.
Agents answered on speaker.
Serena.
Whispering.
“Roman?”
“Serena.”
His voice broke.
“I’m at the old St. Agnes house.”
Roman froze.
Camille noticed.
“Where?”
Roman said.
“Wisconsin.”
Serena was crying.
“Vincent left. He thinks I’m locked in the cellar.”
“Are you?”
“I broke the vent.”
Roman almost smiled.
Of course she had.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you hurt?”
“My wrist.”
“The baby?”
“I think okay.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“I’m coming.”
Serena’s voice sharpened.
“No.”
Everyone stopped.
Roman looked at the phone.
“What?”
“Not alone.”
He swallowed.
“Okay.”
“No guns in the house.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Serena.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay.”
Camille saw how much that promise cost.
Roman gave it anyway.
Federal agents reached the St. Agnes property forty minutes later.
Roman followed.
Camille stayed in the command vehicle until Serena was cleared.
Then Roman came outside.
His face looked different.
Younger.
Destroyed.
“She wants to see you.”
Camille blinked.
“Me?”
“She knows who you are.”
“How?”
“Trevor talked about you.”
That did not sound good.
Serena sat on a medical stretcher inside the house.
Dark hair.
Roman’s eyes.
Twenty-eight.
Her left wrist swollen.
Otherwise unharmed.
When Camille entered, Serena stared.
“So you’re Camille.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Camille almost laughed.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Serena smiled weakly.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“I ruined your wedding.”
“No.”
Camille sat beside her.
“Trevor ruined my wedding.”
Serena nodded.
“Mara said you found the ultrasound.”
“Yes.”
“I told her to destroy every copy.”
“She tried.”
“Trevor stole one.”
“Yes.”
Serena looked toward Roman.
He stood across the room.
Not approaching.
Waiting.
Camille noticed.
“What did Trevor tell you about Roman?”
Serena’s expression closed.
“Enough.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“No.”
She inhaled.
“I should.”
Roman remained silent.
Serena looked at Camille.
“My brother controlled everything after our parents died.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“Security. Money. Who I dated. Where I lived.”
Camille looked at him.
He did not deny it.
“I thought he was protecting me.”
Serena laughed bitterly.
“Then Noah happened.”
She had fallen in love with Noah secretly.
When Roman found out, he exploded.
“He told Noah if he ever used me against the family, he’d kill him.”
Roman looked down.
Serena continued.
“Three days later, Noah died.”
“So you believed Roman did it.”
“Yes.”
“Then Trevor came.”
“Yes.”
Trevor showed her transfers suggesting Roman paid the driver connected to Noah’s crash.
Later proven manipulated.
He played edited audio of Roman saying:
“Take care of Noah.”
Actual full sentence?
“Take care of Noah’s security detail until I know who he’s meeting.”
A cut changed everything.
Elliot Crane provided a sworn statement claiming Roman ordered surveillance on Noah the night he died.
Serena broke.
“So when Trevor said he could get me away…”
“You went.”
“Yes.”
“Mara helped.”
“Yes.”
“Did Trevor know you were pregnant then?”
“No.”
“When he found out?”
Serena’s face changed.
“He became interested.”
Roman’s hands tightened.
Camille asked:
“How?”
“At first he was kind.”
“Then?”
“He asked whether Roman knew.”
“I said no.”
“He started asking about Noah’s files.”
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
Serena looked at Roman.
“Noah told me if anything happened to him, there was a ledger proving somebody inside the family was selling routes to Dominic.”
“Vincent.”
“Yes.”
“Where is the full ledger?”
Serena hesitated.
Roman immediately said:
“You don’t have to tell me.”
She looked at him.
That seemed to hurt more than pressure would have.
“It’s with a federal attorney in Milwaukee.”
Everyone froze.
Rebecca Sloan stared.
“What?”
Serena gave a weak smile.
“Noah was not as stupid as everyone thought.”
The full ledger had been delivered automatically after Noah’s death to a federal attorney under sealed instructions.
“Then why hasn’t anyone moved?”
Rebecca asked.
“Because the attorney died.”
Silence.
“Heart attack six months later. His files went into archived evidence storage under a case number nobody connected.”
Serena knew the number.
Noah had made her memorize it.
Roman stared at his sister.
“All of this…”
She nodded.
“Trevor never had the full ledger.”
Camille understood.
“He was bluffing.”
“Yes.”
“The memory card in the ring box—”
“Partial copy Noah gave me.”
Roman laughed once.
Nothing amused in it.
Trevor had built a multi-million-dollar extortion plan around incomplete evidence.
“So why did he still need you?” Camille asked.
“Because I knew the archive case number.”
Serena looked toward Roman.
“Vincent knows now too.”
Roman’s face hardened.
Because Dominic had taken Serena through Vincent.
And Vincent had probably forced that number from her.
“Did you tell him?”
Roman asked.
Serena’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
He crossed the room.
Then stopped before touching her.
“Can I?”
Serena started crying.
She nodded.
Roman hugged his sister.
Not tightly.
Not possessively.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Camille looked away.
Some reunions were too private even in crowded rooms.
Later, while doctors checked Serena, Camille found Roman outside.
Snow had started.
Tiny flakes disappearing against his dark coat.
“You were wrong about Noah.”
“Yes.”
“You were controlling Serena.”
“Yes.”
“You scared her enough that Trevor could weaponize it.”
Roman looked at her.
“Yes.”
No defense.
Camille folded her arms.
“What are you going to do with that?”
His expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
“Good.”
He almost smiled.
“You enjoy that answer.”
“I enjoy men admitting they don’t know everything.”
“Rare experience?”
“Recently? Extremely.”
He looked toward the house.
“I thought fear kept people alive.”
Camille stared at him.
“And?”
“It also made my sister run toward someone worse.”
That was the tragedy.
Protection without trust became another trap.
Roman looked back at Camille.
“You should go home.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“Serena is safe for tonight.”
“Vincent isn’t.”
“No.”
“Trevor isn’t.”
“No.”
“Dominic isn’t.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
His eyes held hers.
“Because none of this belongs to you.”
Camille felt anger.
“Trevor made it belong to me.”
“Not forever.”
Something softened.
“You lost a wedding yesterday.”
Roman’s voice lowered.
“You have not had one hour to grieve it because my family’s war landed in your driveway.”
Camille looked away.
The abandoned flowers returned to her mind.
The dress.
Her mother’s voice.
The 147 guests.
She had not cried about the wedding since Roman arrived.
There had not been time.
Roman continued.
“You don’t owe us your life because Trevor tried to use yours.”
That sentence stayed with her.
Camille stared at the snow.
Then said:
“I’m not staying because I owe you.”
Roman waited.
“I’m staying because I want him stopped.”
Trevor.
“And because Serena deserves the chance to stop running.”
Roman nodded.
“Then stay.”
No claim.
No persuasion.
May you like
Camille looked at him.
For the first time, she wondered what Roman Vale might become if he learned that not everything needed to be held tightly to remain.
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