Chapter 7 - The Viper at the Gate
Downstairs in the main office, Evelyn Burke was standing near the window, watching a sleek black sedan pull up the long, winding driveway toward the mansion.
The car bore the silver crest of the Vale Syndicate’s northern operations.
The rear door opened, and a man in a flawless pinstripe suit stepped out, holding a silver-topped walking stick. It was Julian Vale—Roman’s younger brother, the man who had managed the syndicate's external affairs while Roman remained hidden in the north wing.
Evelyn’s stomach churned. She grabbed the house telephone and dialed Roman’s private line immediately.
Upstairs, the phone rang twice before Roman answered.
"He's here," Evelyn whispered hurriedly into the receiver. "Julian just arrived with four of his lieutenants. He says he has an urgent matter regarding the New York commission."
In the master suite, Roman stood beside Clara, holding the phone to his ear. His entire demeanor had changed. The broken, reclusive shadow was gone; in his place stood the king of the Chicago underworld, cold, precise, and lethal.
"Let him up, Evelyn," Roman ordered calmly. "Send him to the grand parlor."
"Roman," Evelyn hesitated. "He brought armed men."
"Good," Roman replied flatly. "It saves me the trouble of hunting them down."
He hung up the receiver and looked at Clara. She was standing by the mirror, shedding her cheap maid's apron, revealing the simple black dress beneath.
Bear stood beside her, his ears pinned back, his low growl echoing through the room. The dog smelled the shift in the house—it knew the hunt was beginning.
Roman walked over to his mahogany wardrobe, unlocked a hidden steel compartment inside, and pulled out two dark silver pistols. He checked the magazines with practiced, fluid motions, sliding one into his shoulder holster.
He turned to Clara, offering her a smaller, elegant snub-nosed revolver. "Do you remember how to use this?"
May you like
Clara took the weapon, her fingers wrapping around the grip with steady familiarity. "You taught me yourself on the range in Geneva."
Roman looked at her, a dark, handsome smile breaking through the scarred tissue of his cheek for the first time in four years. "Then let's go welcome my brother home."
