Chapter 7 - THE COURTROOM WHERE ELEANOR SAID GRACE’S NAME
Gabriel DeLuca’s lawyers attacked Eleanor before prosecutors formally charged him.
They filed a petition challenging her restored decision-making authority.
Not full guardianship.
A “protective continuation” of existing proxy arrangements.
Polite language.
Same cage.
The petition argued Eleanor’s sudden improvement was medically inconsistent, emotionally triggered, and vulnerable to outside influence.
Outside influence had a name.
Grace Miller.
Roman read the filing and became so quiet Marco left the room voluntarily.
Grace read it and laughed.
“Why are you laughing?”
Roman asked.
“Because they called me ‘an unrelated domestic employee with unusual emotional access.’”
“That is not funny.”
“It is almost poetry.”
Roman did not laugh.
Grace continued.
“They want me angry.”
“I’m already angry.”
“Yes, but you’re always angry.”
“Untrue.”
“Roman.”
“Fine.”
Dr. Hayes recommended Eleanor participate only if medically safe.
The court appointed an independent geriatric psychiatrist.
Independent fiduciary counsel.
No DeLuca doctors.
Good.
Eleanor passed more evaluation than Roman thought fair.
She complained magnificently.
“Today a woman asked me who the president is.”
Grace smiled.
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I told her Theodore Roosevelt.”
Grace laughed.
“Why?”
“I dislike tests.”
Roman rubbed forehead.
“Mother.”
“What? I corrected eventually.”
The psychiatrist’s report was nuanced.
Eleanor had genuine vascular neurocognitive impairment.
Her memory fluctuated.
Some executive functioning was reduced.
But she retained meaningful capacity for personal decisions, understood family relationships, understood the trust proxy dispute, and clearly expressed consistent preferences.
She did not need to be either perfectly healthy or completely incompetent.
Capacity is task-specific.
That idea terrified families who benefited from all-or-nothing labels.
At hearing, Eleanor entered with a cane.
Grace was not beside her.
By Eleanor’s request.
“I don’t want them saying I need her to speak.”
Good.
Roman walked behind.
Not guiding unless asked.
Gabriel sat across courtroom.
First time Grace had seen him in person.
Sixty-four.
Silver-haired.
Warm smile.
He looked less dangerous than Roman.
That fit Eleanor’s letter perfectly.
He is worse because he can make cruelty sound reasonable.
Gabriel smiled at Grace.
She did not return.
His attorney questioned Eleanor gently.
“Mrs. DeLuca, do you love Grace Miller?”
“Yes.”
“Do you consider her your daughter?”
Eleanor paused.
Grace’s chest tightened.
Then:
“No.”
Everyone looked.
Eleanor continued.
“I called her that when I confused her with Nora.”
Good.
“My Nora.”
Her voice shook.
“She was like daughter to me.”
“Grace is Nora’s daughter.”
“Is that accurate?”
“Yes.”
“Are they biologically related to you?”
“No.”
“Then why maintain contact?”
Eleanor looked offended.
“Because people do not need share blood to matter.”
Good.
Attorney changed.
“Did Miss Miller help you remember Nora?”
“Yes.”
“Did that make you emotional?”
“Yes.”
“Could emotion influence your judgment?”
“Of course.”
The attorney smiled.
Eleanor continued.
“It influences yours too.”
The judge hid smile.
“Mrs. DeLuca, do you understand Gabriel currently exercises certain proxy voting rights for you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want that to continue?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I believe he helped my husband steal from my charity.”
Silence.
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“And because he hired the woman who gave me medicine I was not supposed to take.”
Objection.
Sustained partly.
Investigation ongoing.
Eleanor remained calm.
Then Gabriel’s attorney made mistake.
“Mrs. DeLuca, is it possible Miss Miller has encouraged these beliefs?”
Eleanor looked at Grace across courtroom.
Then back.
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Grace keeps telling me not to say things unless I remember them myself.”
That landed.
“Has she asked you for money?”
“No.”
“A place in your will?”
“No.”
“Employment?”
“No.”
“Gifts?”
“No.”
“What has she asked?”
Eleanor smiled.
“For me to stop cheating at crosswords.”
Laughter.
Even judge.
Grace cried.
Then independent evaluator testified.
Dr. Hayes.
Fiduciary officer.
Medication records.
Celia’s hiring path.
The court removed Gabriel’s proxy authority pending investigation and appointed independent co-fiduciary for Eleanor’s corporate interests.
Roman did not receive the proxy.
That mattered.
The old system could have simply shifted power from uncle to son.
Instead, Eleanor’s votes would be exercised with her direction when competent and independent oversight when not.
No one DeLuca man controlled her.
Outside courthouse, reporters waited.
Grace tried to leave through side.
A reporter shouted:
“Grace, are you expecting an inheritance?”
She turned despite Roman’s security asking not.
“No.”
“Would you accept one?”
Grace thought.
“Depends what and why.”
Better than fake modesty.
Another:
“Are you romantically involved with Roman DeLuca?”
Roman froze six feet away.
Grace looked at him.
Then reporter.
“No.”
Roman’s eyebrow moved.
Grace continued.
“Not yet.”
Chaos.
Roman stared.
Grace walked past.
In car, he said:
“Not yet.”
“Don’t enjoy it.”
“Impossible.”
“Your face is smug.”
“I don’t control my face.”
“Your entire career is controlling faces.”
He laughed.
Then car behind them swerved.
Marco’s voice changed through radio.
“Hold.”
Roman immediately reached toward Grace.
Stopped.
“Can I?”
She understood.
“Yes.”
He pulled her low.
A motorcycle passed on left.
Nothing.
False alarm.
Grace’s heart hammered.
Roman’s hand remained at her shoulder.
Not possessive.
Protective.
He released immediately when road cleared.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for that.”
He looked.
“Emergency.”
“Exactly.”
Then Marco cursed.
“What?”
Roman asked.
“The motorcycle dropped something.”
Security car stopped.
Police contacted.
Package.
Inside no explosive.
A burned photograph.
Nora and Eleanor.
The same image from storage.
Meaning someone had accessed Grace’s storage unit or copied evidence.
On back:
SHE SHOULD HAVE STAYED GONE.
Grace went cold.
Roman became still.
“Evan.”
She grabbed phone.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Her breathing changed.
Roman said:
“Call his campus security.”
She did.
Dorm desk.
Evan had left class early.
No one knew where.
Grace’s hands shook.
Then phone rang.
Evan.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
“Why are you yelling?”
“WHERE?”
“Dentist?”
Grace closed eyes.
Roman almost laughed from relief.
Grace wanted to kill him.
“You have a dentist?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you not tell me?”
“Because I am twenty-one?”
Fair.
She covered face.
“You’re impossible.”
“Why?”
She explained.
Evan became silent.
“Oh.”
“Go to campus security.”
“I’m at dentist.”
“Then dentist security.”
“Dentists have security?”
Roman took phone gently only after Grace handed it.
“Evan, stay inside. An officer will meet you.”
Evan paused.
“Is this Roman?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dating my sister?”
Grace reached.
Roman held phone away.
“Not yet.”
Grace slapped his arm.
Evan shouted laughter.
For ten seconds, fear loosened.
Then police confirmed storage facility had been breached overnight.
No major boxes missing.
But Nora photo disturbed.
Someone had searched.
The blue case was already with investigators.
Winter book secure.
So the break-in was message.
Gabriel remained under legal pressure.
Would he risk intimidation now?
Maybe.
Or someone loyal without instruction.
DeLuca systems had long lives.
Roman wanted Grace moved into estate.
He asked this time.
“No.”
He closed eyes.
“Why?”
“I will not live in your house while deciding whether to date you.”
“That is not why.”
“It becomes part.”
“What do you want?”
“Independent secure apartment.”
“Fine.”
“Nadia? No that's prior. Need security lead. Let’s use "Elena Torres"? Better Roman security could coordinate but she wants independent. "I want a firm not owned by you."
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Independent firm.”
“Yes.”
“I pay?”
“No.”
“The threat comes from my family.”
“Then reimbursement through attorney after invoice.”
Roman nearly smiled.
“You are impossible.”
“Apparently your type.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
No joke.
Grace’s face warmed.
They arranged.
That night, from secure apartment, Grace called Eleanor.
“I’m okay.”
Eleanor said:
“You sound frightened.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
Grace laughed.
“Why does everyone say good?”
“Fear tells you where doors are.”
Then:
“Just don’t let Roman lock them.”
Grace smiled.
“He’s learning.”
“So are you.”
“About?”
“Letting people help without thinking they own you.”
Grace went quiet.
Eleanor knew too much.
The next morning Gabriel DeLuca was formally charged with financial fraud, conspiracy, unlawful medication-related elder abuse facilitation, and obstruction pending further evidence.
He surrendered through counsel.
No handcuffs in street.
No shootout.
Just courtroom.
But as authorities searched Gabriel’s office, they found one document that terrified Roman more than any threat.
A contingency plan.
If Eleanor’s proxy was removed and Roman cooperated with investigators, Gabriel intended to trigger a dormant Vascari? No, DeLuca family clause allowing directors to expose Roman’s own past illegal conduct and force his removal.
Attached was a list.
Bribes.
Threats.
Unreported payments.
Roman’s signature.
Not his father’s.
His.
Grace read only after Roman gave permission.
Then looked at him.
“This isn’t Gabriel’s crime.”
“No.”
“This is yours.”
“Yes.”
May you like
The time had come.
If Roman wanted a future different from his father’s, he could no longer build it while hiding what he had done in the past.
