Chapter 5 - Aftermath and Accountability
The next morning, the DeLuca estate looked less like a home and more like a crime scene under siege. Federal agents in windbreakers milled about the rose gardens, forensic teams combed through the charred, smoking skeleton of the old garden shed, and a fleet of black SUVs idled in the gravel drive.
Inside the grand kitchen, the atmosphere was starkly different. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the marble countertops where Nora was pouring fresh coffee. Maisie sat at the breakfast island, happily swinging her legs while coloring with a brand-new box of crayons courtesy of Miller, who was standing guard near the doorway like an oversized, apologetic teddy bear.
Roman walked into the kitchen, dressed in a fresh charcoal suit, his arm neatly bandaged beneath the sleeve. He looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes hinting at a night spent answering endless questions from federal investigators and corporate board members.
“Morning,” Roman said, leaning against the counter.
“Morning,” Nora replied, sliding a ceramic mug of black coffee across the marble toward him. “How’s the board handling the news that their star legal counsel tried to turn their CEO into barbecue?”
“With a surprising amount of enthusiasm for my new security protocols,” Roman dryly noted, taking a sip. He looked over at Maisie, who held up a blue crayon drawing of a very lopsided dog.
“Mr. Roman, look,” Maisie announced proudly.
Roman crouched down beside her stool, examining the artwork with total gravity. “Impressive use of negative space, kid. Though the dog looks suspiciously like Miller.”
“Hey!” Miller protested from the doorway, though he couldn't hide his grin. “I resemble that remark.”
Nora leaned against the counter, watching the interaction with a soft smile. For two years, she had known Roman DeLuca as an untouchable corporate monolith—a man who spoke in commands and lived behind iron gates. Seeing him kneeling on a kitchen floor covered in crayon shavings changed the equation entirely.
“The feds are wrapping up their initial sweep,” Roman said, standing back up and turning his attention back to Nora. His tone shifted, losing its casual edge and becoming entirely serious. “Victor’s assets have been frozen. His co-conspirators in the procurement department have already been flagged. The house is secure, Nora. Permanently.”
“Good,” Nora said quietly. “Because I told Maisie we were baking cookies this afternoon, and I’d hate to interrupt the schedule again.”
Roman looked at her for a long moment, the hard lines of his face softening. “About last night... I don't usually let people get that close to the line.”
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“People don't usually tie you to a burning post, either,” Nora replied, her eyes meeting his directly. “Adjustment period for everyone.”
A rare, genuine laugh escaped Roman’s lips. “Fair point.”
