Chapter 5 - The Ledger Beneath the Bridal Suite

The original ledger was not in Room 814.

It was three floors above us.

In the bridal suite.

Roman almost laughed when Michael said it.

“My mother hated this hotel, so you hid evidence in the honeymoon room?”

“She chose the hiding place.”

Roman stopped.

“She did?”

Michael nodded.

“Two days before she died.”

We climbed the stairs.

No elevators.

No lights.

Only the beams from our phones.

The bridal suite door was painted white beneath years of dust.

Michael handed Roman an old brass key.

Roman opened it.

Inside, the furniture was covered with sheets.

A cracked mirror stood beside the window.

Michael walked toward the fireplace.

He knelt.

Then removed one loose marble tile.

Beneath it was a steel box.

Roman stared at him.

“You left it here for seventeen years?”

“No.”

Michael looked at Celeste.

“She moved it here six months ago.”

Roman turned.

Celeste nodded.

“Julian found the first hiding place.”

Roman rubbed his face.

“Is there anything in my life that happened without the two of you arranging it?”

Neither answered.

Michael opened the box.

Inside was a black ledger.

Old.

Thick.

Edges worn.

Roman reached for it.

Michael stopped him.

“Before you read it, understand something.”

“What?”

“Some names are people who were paid.”

Roman’s jaw tightened.

“And the others?”

“People who paid.”

Roman opened the book.

Page after page.

Dates.

Amounts.

Companies.

Initials.

Then full names.

Julian Vale appeared over and over.

So did Lorenzo Vale.

Roman turned another page.

Then stopped.

THOMAS ARDEN.

His uncle.

Twenty-one entries.

Roman’s eyes hardened.

“He took money from them.”

Michael nodded.

“For years.”

Roman turned another page.

A transfer made three days before his mother’s death.

Thomas Arden.

Roman’s voice cracked.

“No.”

Michael looked down.

“I never knew whether it was payment for information or something worse.”

Roman slammed the book shut.

“You let him raise me.”

“I thought he had stopped.”

“You thought?”

“I had no proof.”

“You had this.”

“I had numbers.”

“You had his name.”

“And if I had come back with nothing but a ledger written by a dead woman and a wanted man?”

Roman stared.

Michael continued.

“Thomas controlled the board. The police contact. The family security. Half the people around you.”

Celeste whispered:

“And he still does.”

Roman looked at her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She took out her phone.

“When Julian contacted me three years ago, he never asked about Michael.”

Roman frowned.

“He asked about you.”

“What about me?”

“Whether you trusted Thomas.”

Roman’s face changed.

“Why?”

“I think Julian was afraid of him.”

Michael nodded slowly.

“That would explain the recent transfers.”

Roman looked at the ledger.

“Explain.”

“Julian may have reopened the shell companies.”

“For himself.”

“Maybe.”

Michael shook his head.

“Or because Thomas made him.”

Celeste stared.

“My brother never said that.”

“He would not.”

“Why?”

Michael looked at her.

“Because fear sounds like loyalty when you have lived with it long enough.”

A sound came from the hallway.

Roman reached for the door.

I caught his sleeve.

He looked at me.

I pointed toward the cracked mirror.

A shadow moved beneath the door.

Someone was outside.

Roman killed his phone light.

We waited.

The handle turned.

Locked.

Then a voice came through the wood.

“Roman.”

He froze.

Uncle Thomas.

Calm.

Familiar.

Almost gentle.

“I know you’re in there.”

Roman’s eyes closed for one second.

The man who had taught him to drive.

The man who had sat beside him at his father’s memorial.

The man who had toasted his wedding.

Thomas spoke again.

“Bring me the ledger.”

Roman said nothing.

Thomas sighed.

“Your lawyer is alive.”

Celeste moved closer to Roman.

Thomas continued.

“He stays alive if Michael gives me what belongs to me.”

Michael whispered:

“It never belonged to you.”

Silence.

Then Thomas laughed softly.

“Still dramatic, Michael.”

Roman unlocked the door before anyone could stop him.

Thomas stood alone in the hallway.

Sixty-two.

Gray suit.

Black onyx ring.

No weapon visible.

Roman stepped toward him.

“Where is Arthur?”

“At your house.”

“Who is with him?”

“Julian.”

Celeste flinched.

Thomas looked at her.

“Your brother has been very useful.”

She whispered:

“You used him.”

“He wanted money.”

“He was eighteen.”

“So was Roman when he took over his first company.”

Roman said:

“Do not say my name like we are family.”

Thomas’s expression changed.

For the first time.

Only slightly.

But I saw it.

Michael did too.

Thomas looked at the ledger.

“Give it to me.”

Roman held it behind his back.

“Did you kill my mother?”

Thomas went still.

Nobody breathed.

Then he said:

“No.”

Roman stared at him.

“Did you help the person who did?”

Thomas looked toward Michael.

“That question is more complicated.”

Roman’s voice dropped.

“Make it simple.”

Thomas smiled sadly.

“Your mother was going to destroy everything.”

Roman stepped closer.

“So you let them stop her.”

Thomas’s smile disappeared.

“I saved you.”

Roman’s fist tightened.

Thomas looked at the raven tattoo on his forearm.

“No, Roman.”

“You built your whole life on what I saved.”

Then a second voice came from the stairwell.

“Tell him the rest.”

Julian Vale stepped into view.

His shirt was torn.

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Blood marked one side of his face.

And he was pointing a gun at Thomas.