Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind Apartment 9C
The penthouse looked exactly as Nora remembered.
That was somehow worse than if Roman had changed everything.
The same Manhattan skyline burned beyond the glass walls.
The same dark piano stood near the windows.
The same enormous abstract painting hung above the fireplace.
Even the ridiculous silver bowl she had once teased Roman about remained on the console table.
Nora stopped inside the entrance.
Roman noticed.
“I can have you taken somewhere else.”
“No.”
“You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I’m not proving anything.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“I want answers.”
Tommy remained near the elevator while two security men checked the floor.
Roman had brought Nora through a private underground entrance.
No dramatic convoy.
No display.
That surprised her.
Three years earlier Roman had treated security as theater.
Tonight it felt like protection.
“Where’s 9C?” Nora asked.
Roman looked toward the hallway.
“Still there.”
“You never changed it?”
“I sealed it.”
“Why?”
“Because everything started there.”
They walked together.
Neither touched the other.
At the end of the corridor Roman stopped before a dark wooden door.
9C.
Nora’s pulse accelerated.
Roman entered a code.
The lock clicked.
The apartment beyond was covered in dust sheets.
Nora stepped inside.
The room where she had found the ledger was empty.
“No desk.”
“I removed everything after you disappeared.”
“Where?”
“Storage.”
Nora looked around.
“And Michael’s safe?”
“I never found it.”
She removed the photograph from her pocket and examined the silver key.
“Then why did Elias send me this?”
Roman’s eyes moved toward the wall.
“Because Michael wanted you to find something.”
“How could Elias know that?”
“That’s what bothers me.”
Nora walked slowly through the apartment.
Michael had visited the penthouse twice before his death.
He had joked about Roman’s expensive furniture.
He had teased Nora about dating “Wall Street Dracula.”
Roman had pretended to be offended.
Michael had liked him.
That memory hurt.
Nora touched the wall.
Then she remembered something.
“My brother hated paintings that weren’t level.”
Roman frowned.
“What?”
“He would straighten pictures everywhere.”
She turned toward an old framed city map.
It hung perfectly straight.
Too perfectly.
Nora lifted it.
Behind it was a narrow recessed panel.
Roman stared.
Neither spoke.
Nora inserted the silver key.
Click.
A compartment opened.
Inside sat a flash drive and an envelope.
The envelope had one word written across it.
NORA.
Her hands trembled.
Roman stepped backward.
“This is yours.”
She looked at him.
“You’re not going to demand to see it?”
“No.”
“Three years ago you would have.”
“I’m not the same man.”
Nora almost said people didn’t change.
But she had.
So she remained silent.
She opened the envelope.
Michael’s handwriting filled two pages.
Nora read.
Then she stopped.
“What?”
Roman’s voice was careful.
Nora looked at him.
“My brother knew someone was framing you.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
She continued reading.
Michael had discovered millions moving through shell companies connected to Roman’s legitimate businesses.
The transfers appeared authorized.
They were not.
Someone had copied internal credentials.
Michael had traced the transactions to Elias Ward.
But Elias was not working alone.
The final paragraph contained a warning.
If anything happens to me, Nora, don’t assume Roman did it. Someone is using his reputation because they know nobody will question the obvious monster.
Nora closed her eyes.
Three years.
Three years of believing Roman had murdered Michael.
Roman said nothing.
He did not demand vindication.
That mattered.
Nora looked at the flash drive.
“We need to see this.”
Roman brought a laptop that had never been connected to the penthouse network.
Tommy stood nearby.
Nora inserted the drive.
Folders appeared.
Bank transfers.
Recorded meetings.
Photographs.
Then one video.
Michael appeared on screen.
Nora covered her mouth.
“Nora, if you’re watching this, I probably didn’t get the chance to explain.”
Roman turned away, giving her privacy.
Michael described the conspiracy.
Elias had been stealing from Roman for years.
But money was only part of it.
He wanted control.
Roman’s reputation made him powerful, but it also made him easy to frame.
If Nora believed Roman murdered Michael and disappeared, Roman would become emotionally unstable.
Distracted.
Isolated.
Exactly what Elias needed.
Then Michael said a name.
Tommy’s face changed.
Roman slowly turned.
Nora stared at him.
“Who is Victor Dane?”
Roman’s voice became cold.
“My oldest business partner.”
“And?”
“He’s been sitting at my table for twenty years.”
Michael’s recording continued.
Victor had financed Elias.
Together they planned to strip Roman’s businesses, trigger investigations, and push rival groups against him.
Michael had discovered enough to expose them.
So they silenced him.
Nora paused the recording.
Tears ran down her face.
Roman stood several feet away.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
“For what?”
“For building a life where this was believable.”
The sentence hit harder than an excuse would have.
Nora wiped her eyes.
“You didn’t kill Michael.”
“No.”
“But you did other things.”
Roman did not look away.
“Yes.”
“You hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“You scared me.”
His answer took longer.
“Yes.”
Nora nodded.
“Then don’t expect this to fix us.”
“I don’t.”
Another surprise.
Roman looked at the laptop.
“This fixes one thing only. Michael deserves the truth.”
Nora studied him.
“What are you going to do to Victor?”
Roman understood the real question.
Would he return to the man she had fled?
He took out his phone.
Nora stiffened.
Roman dialed.
“Federal prosecutor’s office,” he said when someone answered. “Tell Agent Mercer I’m ready to give him everything.”
Tommy stared at him.
Nora did too.
Roman ended the call.
“What did you just do?”
“What I should have done years ago.”
“You’ll expose yourself.”
“Yes.”
“You could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“Roman.”
He looked at her.
“I can’t ask you to believe I’ve changed while protecting the machinery that made you afraid of me.”
Nora could not speak.
Then the laptop screen suddenly went black.
A message appeared.
HELLO, NORA.
Tommy moved forward.
“Disconnect it.”
Before he could, another line appeared.
MICHAEL ALWAYS WAS TOO CLEVER.
Roman pulled Nora away from the computer.
A third message appeared.
BUT HE MISSED ONE THING.
Then a live video feed opened.
Victor Dane sat in a familiar restaurant booth.
Lombardi’s.
Arthur stood several feet behind him, terrified.
Victor smiled into the camera.
And beside him sat Elias Ward.
Alive.
Waiting.
Victor lifted a wineglass.
“Come finish what Michael started.”
The screen went black.
Roman looked at Nora.
“No.”
Nora’s expression hardened.
“What?”
“You’re staying here.”
“For three years everyone has made decisions for me because they thought I was frightened.”
“You are frightened.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“But I’m done letting frightened mean powerless.”
Roman stared at her.
For the first time since Lombardi’s, something resembling pride appeared in his eyes.
Nora picked up Michael’s flash drive.
May you like
“We’re going back to the restaurant.”
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