Chapter 10 - THE ENEMY WHO EXPECTED THE OLD ROMAN
Carlo Ferretti made his move after Celeste returned.
Ferretti had lost contracts when Matteo’s bid-manipulation records became public. He blamed Roman for cooperating with investigators and believed domestic reconciliation had made him vulnerable.
One January evening, a vehicle blocked Celeste’s car as she left Lucia’s dance class.
A second vehicle stopped behind her.
Two masked men approached.
Celeste locked the doors and activated the emergency signal installed under the security plan she had approved.
Roman received the alert while meeting with Vascari’s board.
His old instincts demanded immediate violence.
Marco stood.
“We can have men there in four minutes.”
Roman looked at the live location and then at the protocol.
Police were ninety seconds away.
The approved security car carrying trained personnel was three blocks away.
“Send the authorized unit,” Roman said. “No pursuit beyond extraction. Police take the vehicles.”
Marco stared.
“They threatened your wife.”
“They have my daughter in the car?”
“Yes.”
“Then nobody starts a gunfight beside them.”
The security vehicle arrived first and positioned itself between Celeste and the approaching men. Sirens followed seconds later.
The masked men ran.
One vehicle escaped.
The other struck a barrier.
Police arrested the driver.
Celeste and Lucia were unharmed.
Roman reached the station twenty minutes later.
He stopped before entering the interview room.
A detective said, “Your wife asked for you.”
Only then did Roman go inside.
Lucia ran into his arms.
“Daddy!”
He held her.
Celeste stood nearby, pale but steady.
Roman looked at her.
“Can I—”
She crossed the room and hugged him before he finished.
For one moment, fear held all three of them together.
Then Roman asked the detective what evidence existed.
Not where the suspect lived.
Not which men should answer.
Evidence.
The arrested driver’s phone connected the attack to a Ferretti associate. Messages showed the plan was intended as intimidation and possible temporary abduction, not murder.
That distinction did not make it minor.
Federal and local authorities coordinated the investigation.
Ferretti fled Chicago.
Several older Vascari associates offered to find him.
Roman refused.
“He came for your family,” one said.
“Yes.”
“And you will let police handle it?”
“I will let evidence handle it.”
“They may lose him.”
“Then they lose him. I will not teach Lucia that her father’s fear gives him permission to become law.”
Ferretti was arrested six weeks later in Nevada.
He expected Roman to send an intermediary.
No one came.
He pleaded guilty to conspiracy, attempted kidnapping, and related offenses after his associate cooperated.
The attack became the most severe test of Roman’s reform.
Not because he felt no desire for revenge.
Because he felt it every day and still refused.
Celeste noticed.
After Lucia slept on the night of Ferretti’s arrest, she found Roman inside the nursery.
“You could have had him killed,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Did you want to?”
“Yes.”
She sat in the rocking chair.
“What stopped you?”
Roman looked toward the painted stars.
“Lucia was in the car.”
“That would make most men want revenge more.”
“It made me understand that anything I did afterward would become part of what happened to her.”
Celeste became quiet.
Roman continued.
“If I answered fear with violence, then Ferretti would still decide what kind of father I became.”
She reached for his hand.
It was the first time she initiated contact after a crisis instead of receiving it.
The attack also exposed weaknesses in the protection plan.
Roman and Celeste reviewed them together.
More secure transport after children’s activities.
A direct police liaison.
Emergency tracking activated only during agreed conditions.
No permanent armed escort.
Roman wanted more.
He said so.
Celeste wanted less.
They negotiated until both understood the risks.
No order.
No silent resentment.
Compromise.
Lucia returned to dance class after three weeks.
Roman wanted to keep her home longer.
Celeste disagreed.
“She cannot learn that fear decides every room she enters.”
Roman looked at his daughter.
Lucia wore pink shoes and carried a bag covered in glitter.
“Are you scared?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Do you want to go?”
“Yes.”
Roman drove her.
He remained in the lobby with other parents.
No men surrounding the building.
No weapons visible.
When Lucia finished, she ran toward him and demonstrated a turn that nearly knocked over a chair.
Roman applauded.
That ordinary evening mattered more than Ferretti’s arrest.
The old Roman believed protection meant eliminating every threat.
The new Roman understood protection also meant refusing to let threats shrink the people he loved.
One year later, Celeste changed her mailing address permanently to the penthouse.
She did not make an announcement.
Roman noticed the envelope on the kitchen counter.
He looked at her.
“Permanent?”
“For now.”
He nodded.
No celebration that transformed her choice into a promise she could never reconsider.
Only gratitude.
The enemy who expected the old Roman had failed.
May you like
Not merely because police caught him.
Because Roman’s fear no longer belonged to whoever provoked it.
