CHAPTER 7 — THE LAST NAME ON THE LIST
CHAPTER 7 — THE LAST NAME ON THE LIST
Victor Romano survived.
Lucas almost wished he hadn't.
Not because Lucas wanted revenge anymore.
But because Victor was now the only bridge to the person who had truly destroyed his family.
For three days, Victor refused to speak.
Federal agents, prosecutors, and the best interrogators money could buy all failed.
He answered every question with silence.
Or a smile.
Until someone unexpected asked to see him.
"I want to talk to him."
Emma stared at Lucas after saying the words.
Lucas frowned.
"Emma, he's dangerous."
"I know."
"He tried to kill you."
"I know."
"He almost attacked Lily."
Emma took a slow breath.
"People like Victor don't listen to men with guns."
"They listen to people they believe are beneath them."
Lucas considered her words.
Finally...
He nodded.
Victor sat behind reinforced glass, his wounded shoulder wrapped in thick bandages.
He smiled when Emma entered.
"A housekeeper."
"Interesting."
Emma sat quietly.
"I'm not here for me."
"No?"
"I'm here for Lily."
Victor leaned back.
"That little girl ruined years of work."
Emma looked directly into his eyes.
"No."
"You ruined your own life."
Victor laughed.
"You think you've won?"
Emma remained calm.
"Lily asked me something yesterday."
Victor said nothing.
"She asked why you hated Mr. Moretti so much."
"And?"
"I couldn't answer."
Victor's smile faded.
Emma continued softly.
"So maybe you should."
Silence filled the room.
For almost a minute.
Then Victor whispered,
"I never hated Lucas."
Emma blinked.
"I envied him."
The story poured out like poison.
Twenty-eight years earlier, Victor's father had been the Moretti family's chief accountant.
When millions disappeared from company books, Lucas's father ordered the accountant executed without trial.
Victor had been only twelve years old.
His mother died from grief less than a year later.
The Morettis never learned the missing money had actually been stolen by another captain.
Victor grew up with only one purpose.
Destroy the family responsible.
But fate played a cruel joke.
Lucas befriended him.
Trusted him.
Loved him like a brother.
"And then..." Victor whispered bitterly.
"He became everything his father never was."
Emma listened quietly.
"He was kind."
"He trusted people."
"He wanted to leave crime."
Victor closed his eyes.
"If Lucas had become the monster I expected..."
"I might have stopped hating him."
"But he became a better man."
"And somehow..."
"That made my hatred worse."
Emma stood.
"So you murdered innocent people because one innocent man refused to become cruel."
Victor didn't answer.
She walked toward the door.
Just before leaving, she spoke one final sentence.
"Lily still asked me to pray for you."
Victor looked up sharply.
Emma smiled sadly.
"That's the difference between your world..."
"...and hers."
The door closed.
For the first time in nearly thirty years...
Victor cried.
That afternoon Victor requested another meeting.
This time with Lucas.
Lucas entered alone.
Victor looked exhausted.
"There was another man."
Lucas remained silent.
"Salvatore DeLuca."
The name landed like thunder.
Salvatore.
Lucas's uncle.
His father's younger brother.
The man who had disappeared overseas nearly twenty years earlier after losing a power struggle inside the family.
Victor continued.
"He financed everything."
"He wanted the empire back."
"I gave him information."
"He gave the orders."
"The fire."
"The false warehouse attack."
"The missing inhaler."
"Everything."
Lucas closed his eyes.
Family.
Again.
It had always come back to family.
Three weeks later, an international task force arrested Salvatore DeLuca while he attempted to board a private yacht off the coast of Sicily.
Financial records.
Wire transfers.
Victor's testimony.
Secret recordings.
Every piece fit together.
For the first time in three years...
Lucas attended Isabella and Daniel's graves without unanswered questions.
He placed fresh white lilies beside each headstone.
"I'm sorry."
The words barely rose above a whisper.
"I should have seen it sooner."
A gentle breeze stirred the trees.
Behind him, tiny footsteps approached.
Lily carried two butterflies made from folded paper.
"I made these."
Lucas smiled.
"They're beautiful."
She placed one on Isabella's grave.
One on Daniel's.
"Arthur says Daniel liked butterflies."
Lucas nodded.
"He loved them."
Lily looked at the sky.
"I think they're together."
Lucas felt tears finally escape.
Not the violent grief he'd carried for years.
May you like
Just quiet tears.
The kind that come when pain finally begins to loosen its grip.
