Chapter 2 - THE BOY WHO KNEW MY NAME
Roman did not bring Marcus inside the mansion immediately.
Trust was not charity.
Neither was fear.
He ordered everyone except Eva, Cole, and two senior guards away from the steps.
Then he looked at Marcus.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Parents?”
“Dead.”
“Guardian?”
“My brother.”
“Where is Ethan?”
Marcus stared at the ground.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because he told me to.”
“That is not enough.”
Marcus pulled his foot from the damaged sneaker.
Inside the lining was a second folded strip.
Not a ledger page.
A note.
Roman took it.
Marcus,
If I disappear, do not go to police.
Do not go to anyone in the Vale crew except Roman himself.
Show him the torn page.
Do not give him the key until he proves Cole is not standing beside him.
Ethan.
Roman read the last sentence twice.
Captain Cole’s face hardened.
“This is fabricated.”
Roman handed the note to him.
“Maybe.”
Cole examined it.
“You are taking instructions from a street kid?”
Roman looked at Marcus.
“No. I am verifying them.”
Eva stepped closer to Marcus.
She had not stopped watching Cole.
Roman noticed.
“Eva.”
She looked up.
“Why did you say Cole was chasing Marcus?”
Eva hesitated.
Her voice became smaller.
“I saw him.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Cole’s expression did not move.
“Where?”
Eva pointed toward the west wall.
“Car.”
“What car?”
“Black.”
Every vehicle on the estate was black.
Roman almost asked another question.
Then stopped.
For seven years, adults had crowded Eva whenever she made any attempt to communicate.
Doctors asking more.
Therapists waiting.
Family members encouraging.
Roman had learned that pressure closed her faster.
He lowered his voice.
“You do not have to tell me everything now.”
Eva nodded.
Marcus spoke.
“I was running from two guys in an SUV yesterday. They caught me near a gas station. I got away through yards. Then I saw the estate wall.”
“Why were they chasing you?”
“They wanted what Ethan left me.”
“The ledger?”
“I don’t have the ledger.”
“Then what?”
Marcus looked toward Cole.
“I’m not saying while he’s here.”
Cole laughed.
Roman did not.
“Cole.”
“What?”
“Go inside.”
Silence.
Cole stared at him.
“You are dismissing me because of this boy?”
“I am removing the variable he says he fears.”
“That is ridiculous.”
Roman’s voice became quieter.
“Do not make me repeat myself.”
Cole left.
But something had changed.
For eleven years, Roman had never needed to dismiss Cole from a security conversation.
Cole knew it.
Roman knew it.
Marcus waited until the door closed.
Then whispered:
“He knows my brother.”
“So did half my organization.”
“No. He knows where Ethan lived.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know?”
“Because he came there.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“What happened?”
Marcus described an apartment in Bridgeport.
Ethan had moved them there quietly after leaving Roman’s payroll.
One night Marcus woke to voices.
Ethan.
Captain Cole.
He listened through the bedroom door.
Cole demanded something called the red book.
Ethan said it was insurance.
Cole threatened Marcus.
Not directly.
“He said people who hide behind family usually lose the family first.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“What did Ethan do?”
“He laughed.”
“Why?”
“He said, ‘Roman would kill you if he knew.’”
“What did Cole say?”
Marcus looked directly at Roman.
“He said, ‘Roman only knows what I let him know.’”
Roman felt something rare.
Not rage.
Doubt.
Rage was easy.
Doubt required discipline.
“Did you see Cole’s face?”
“Yes.”
“Could you identify him then?”
“I did today.”
“Why not tell me immediately?”
“Because he was standing beside you.”
Fair.
Roman looked at the ledger page again.
The entries were from six months earlier.
One line showed regular payments to CP-4.
Cole’s full name:
Christopher Cole.
Could CP mean him?
Maybe.
Could mean anything.
Roman would not decide from initials.
The page also showed Michael Vale’s account continuing after his death.
That troubled him more.
Michael had run offshore logistics.
Three months earlier, Roman received evidence his brother died in a boat explosion near Malta.
No body recovered.
Only dental fragments and personal effects.
Roman accepted the death because Cole personally coordinated identification through contacts.
Cole.
Again.
Roman hated where his thoughts were going.
Eva touched his sleeve.
“Marcus hungry.”
Roman looked down.
For seven years, he imagined his daughter’s first sentence might be Dad.
Instead she had used her first voice to protect somebody else.
He could resent that.
Or listen.
“Bring him food.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I’m not staying.”
“You crossed my walls to reach me.”
“I reached you. Now I go.”
“Where?”
“No idea.”
“Men are chasing you.”
“That’s my problem.”
Roman almost smiled.
“You have no idea how wrong that sentence is.”
He ordered a guest room prepared in the secure east wing.
Not because Marcus was trusted.
Because anyone hunting him would reveal themselves if they believed he was protected.
Marcus noticed the calculation.
“You’re using me as bait.”
Roman looked at him.
“I am keeping you alive inside the safest place available while finding out who wants you dead.”
“Same thing.”
“You are smarter than you look.”
“You’re meaner than Eva said.”
Roman turned toward his daughter.
Eva covered her mouth.
A tiny laugh escaped.
Sound.
Roman felt something break open inside his chest.
Then a guard approached.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We checked the west wall.”
“Damage?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Blood.”
Marcus stiffened.
“Not mine.”
The guard continued.
“We also found a phone.”
Roman took it.
Cheap burner.
One unsent message open.
TARGET ENTERED VALE PROPERTY.
AWAIT COLE INSTRUCTION.
Roman looked toward the mansion doors.
May you like
Captain Cole was nowhere visible.
Continue to the next part: A burner phone found outside Roman’s wall appears to connect Marcus’s pursuers directly to Captain Cole.
