Chapter 6 - The Traitor Exposed
The cleanup of the estate took less than an hour. Roman’s men moved with the quiet efficiency of ghosts, removing the bodies and boarding up the broken front doors before the sun had even cleared the horizon. The power was restored, the warm lights of the manor illuminating the grim reality of the night’s events.
Pamela sat at the kitchen island, a thick wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Dr. Alba was gently cleaning a small cut on her cheek where a piece of flying plaster had struck her.
Roman stood by the window, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was a low, steady hum of lethal instructions. "Find Dr. Vance. He’s the key. If Lorenzo is moving this aggressively, it means Vance is getting nervous. Check his private clinic in Gold Coast. Don't let him leave the state."
He hung up and turned to look at Pamela. His face was pale, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than before. He walked over and sat on the stool next to her, taking her small, clean hand in his large, scarred palm.
"You're a dangerous woman, Pamela Hayes," Roman said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"I'm a mother," she said simply. "We don't have a choice."
Roman’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of deep reverence. "Lorenzo made a mistake tonight. He thought he was dealing with a broken waitress. He didn't realize he was fighting a Castello."
"I'm not a Castello, Roman," Pamela said softly, her eyes tracking the intricate lines of his palm.
"You are to me," Roman said, his voice dropping to a harsh, emotional whisper. "And you are to them. The test results were just a formality, Pamela. Tonight proved it. You belong in this house. With me."
Before Pamela could answer, Donovan entered the kitchen, his face grim. He held a high-encrypted tablet in his hand. "Boss. We have a problem. We found the signal jammer that cut the main generator tonight. It wasn't installed from the outside. It was placed inside the security control room."
Roman stood up slowly, the air in the room instantly turning freezing cold. "Who had the codes for that room yesterday, Donovan?"
Donovan swallowed hard, his eyes flickering to the floor for a brief second before looking back at his boss. "Only three people, Roman. Me, you... and Paul Marino."
Pamela gasped. "Paul? The manager of the restaurant?"
"He’s not just a manager, Pamela," Roman said, his jaw tightening into iron. "His sister is married to one of Lorenzo Marcone’s top captains. I gave him that restaurant ten years ago to keep the peace between our territories. I thought he was too cowardly to turn. I was wrong."
"Where is he?" Roman barked at Donovan.
"He cleared out his apartment an hour ago, boss. Our scouts spotted his car heading toward the private airfield in Midway. He’s trying to jump a flight to Miami."
Roman reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He looked at Pamela, his gray-blue eyes carrying an unvoiced plea. "Stay with the children, Pamela. I have to finish this."
May you like
"Take Donovan," Pamela said, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. "And Roman... don't do it for revenge. Do it so they never have to live in the dark again."
Roman stared at her for a long, silent second, then turned and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I'll be back for breakfast," he said.
