Naomi did not sleep.
At three in the morning she sat beside Lily’s bed watching her daughter breathe while rain tapped against the tall windows of Vale House.
Daniel’s face filled her mind.
His crooked smile.
His habit of leaving cabinet doors open.
The terrible joke he had told at their wedding because he was too nervous to remember his vows.
And his final week.
She remembered things now that had seemed meaningless then.
Daniel checking the rearview mirror twice.
Daniel changing the password on his laptop.
Daniel asking whether Naomi knew where Lily’s passport was.
Daniel standing in the kitchen at midnight and saying, “If anything ever happened to me, don’t assume the simplest explanation is the true one.”
She had laughed.
“Are you joining the CIA?”
He had kissed her forehead.
“No. I just work with numbers.”
Eight days later, he was dead.
Naomi covered her mouth.
A soft knock came from the door.
Roman stood outside.
He had removed his jacket and tie.
Without them he seemed younger.
More exhausted.
“May I come in?”
Naomi almost said no.
Instead she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
“What else do you know?”
Roman handed her a folder.
“Everything we pulled tonight.”
She opened it.
Photographs.
Shipping manifests.
Corporate registrations.
Daniel’s name.
Black Harbor Logistics.
Silas Kincaid.
And another name.
Victor Rowe.
Naomi looked up.
“Why is Victor here?”
Roman’s eyes did not change.
“He served as director of operations for one of the companies Daniel audited.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“You trust him?”
“With my life.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Roman’s expression darkened.
Naomi closed the folder.
“You said you have a traitor.”
“I do.”
“And Victor has a connection to my husband’s investigation.”
“Yes.”
“Yet he’s still walking around your house.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman looked toward the nursery.
“Because if Victor wanted me dead, he has had twenty-two years to arrange it.”
“That isn’t proof.”
“No.”
Roman sounded tired.
“It’s faith.”
Naomi stared at him.
“I thought men like you didn’t have faith.”
“Men like me need it more than most.”
Before Naomi could respond, a baby cried.
Mason.
Roman’s entire attention shifted instantly.
They entered the nursery together.
Mason twisted beneath his blanket.
Roman lifted him awkwardly.
“You have three children and still hold babies like unexploded bombs.”
Roman looked offended.
“I hold them perfectly well.”
Mason screamed louder.
Naomi smiled despite herself.
“Clearly.”
She took him.
Within seconds he settled against her.
Roman stared.
“That is irritating.”
“He senses fear.”
“I am not afraid of a twelve-pound human.”
Mason spit up onto Roman’s shirt.
Naomi covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
Roman looked down.
For the first time since she had met him, he laughed too.
It was quiet.
Surprised.
Almost rusty.
Then Naomi realized she was laughing with the man whose criminal empire might be tied to her husband’s murder.
Her smile vanished.
Roman noticed.
“So did mine,” he said.
“What?”
“The guilt.”
Naomi frowned.
“The first time I laughed after Elise died.”
His gaze shifted toward Mason.
“I felt like I had betrayed her.”
Naomi said nothing.
Roman continued.
“It lasted maybe two seconds. Then I remembered Elise would have called me an idiot.”
“What would Daniel say?”
Naomi thought.
“He’d say grief is already stealing enough without letting it steal laughter too.”
Roman nodded.
“I would have liked him.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“Probably not.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
By morning, the formula tests came back.
Dr. Howard gathered Roman, Naomi, and Victor in the library.
“These samples contain a sedative.”
Roman became very still.
Naomi’s skin prickled.
“Enough to kill them?” Roman asked.
“Repeated exposure could cause respiratory suppression, feeding problems, lethargy. In infants this young, yes, potentially.”
Roman turned toward Victor.
“Who had access?”
Victor answered instantly.
“House staff. Nursery staff. Security. Your family.”
Roman’s face changed at the last word.
“What family?”
“Your brother.”
Naomi watched him.
Roman had not mentioned a brother.
Victor continued.
“Sebastian visited yesterday.”
Roman stared.
“Why?”
“He said he came to pay respects.”
“And?”
“He spent twenty minutes in the nursery.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Where is he now?”
“No idea.”
A guard entered.
“Sir.”
Roman turned.
“We found something.”
He placed a small device on the table.
A camera.
“Where?”
“Inside the nursery air vent.”
Naomi’s blood ran cold.
Roman stared at it.
Someone had been watching his children inside his own home.
Then another guard rushed in.
“Mr. Vale.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Bell’s residence.”
Naomi stood.
“What happened?”
“There was an attempted break-in.”
Her heart stopped.
“My mother?”
“She wasn’t there.”
Naomi grabbed her phone.
“She went to my sister’s.”
The guard nodded.
“House was empty.”
Relief lasted one second.
Then he added, “Whoever entered wasn’t looking for valuables.”
Roman asked, “What did they take?”
“Laptop. Filing cabinet. Documents.”
Naomi understood.
“Daniel.”
Roman nodded.
“They were looking for Daniel’s evidence.”
Naomi suddenly remembered something.
A package.
Two weeks before Daniel died, he had mailed a box to Naomi’s aunt in Vermont.
When Naomi asked what was in it, he said old tax records.
Her breath caught.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
“Daniel sent something away before he died.”
“To where?”
“My aunt’s house.”
Victor stepped closer.
“When?”
“Maybe two weeks before the crash.”
Roman was already reaching for his phone.
“We retrieve it.”
“No.”
Naomi shook her head.
“I retrieve it.”
“You aren’t going alone.”
“I am not taking a mafia convoy to my seventy-three-year-old aunt’s farmhouse.”
Roman stared at her.
“Fair.”
Victor said, “Kincaid could be monitoring her.”
Naomi looked at him.
“How would he know?”
“If Daniel’s communication records were compromised.”
Roman made a decision.
“Small team.”
Naomi folded her arms.
“I said—”
“You, me, and two guards.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You have a criminal empire collapsing.”
“My sons are safe here with the doctor and six men.”
Naomi stared.
“And you trust the house?”
Roman looked at Victor.
“That depends on who stays behind.”
The words struck like ice.
Victor’s expression barely changed.
“Are you accusing me?”
“I’m saying nobody is above suspicion.”
Victor gave a slow nod.
“Good.”
It was the response of either a very loyal man or a very dangerous one.
Six hours later Naomi and Roman were driving north in an ordinary dark SUV without a convoy.
Naomi stared through the window.
“You really believe your brother could hurt your children?”
Roman gripped the wheel.
“I believe greed can make men become people their mothers would not recognize.”
“What happened between you?”
“Our father.”
Roman spoke without emotion.
“He believed the oldest son inherited everything. Sebastian believed the same.”
“You’re younger?”
“By eleven months.”
“Then how did you take control?”
“Our father chose me.”
“Why?”
Roman laughed without humor.
“Because Sebastian enjoys power. I understand responsibility.”
Naomi studied him.
“You sell that distinction to yourself often?”
Roman glanced at her.
“Every morning.”
She looked away.
At dusk they arrived at the farmhouse.
Naomi’s aunt was safe.
The package remained exactly where Daniel had hidden it.
Inside an old sewing machine case.
Naomi sat at the kitchen table with shaking hands as she opened it.
A flash drive.
A notebook.
And a letter.
Her name was written across the envelope.
She unfolded it.
Nay,
If you are reading this, I was right to be afraid.
Naomi stopped breathing.
Roman looked away, giving her privacy.
She continued.
The corruption I found is bigger than Kincaid. Someone inside Roman Vale’s organization has been diverting shipments, laundering payments, and feeding information to Black Harbor. I don’t know whether Vale knows. I suspect he doesn’t.
Naomi’s eyes jumped down.
Then she saw the name.
The records point repeatedly to Victor Rowe.
Her hands froze.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
Naomi could barely speak.
“Daniel thought Victor was working with Kincaid.”
Roman stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
Naomi handed him the letter.
Roman read.
His face remained expressionless until the final paragraph.
Then all color left it.
If anything happens to me, do not give this evidence to police until you know who you can trust. Victor Rowe has friends everywhere.
Roman slowly lowered the page.
His phone rang.
Victor.
Roman answered.
“Yes?”
Victor’s voice sounded calm.
“Roman, there’s been an incident at the house.”
Roman’s posture changed.
“My sons?”
“They’re safe.”
“What incident?”
A pause.
“Sebastian is here.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“He says he knows who poisoned the formula.”
Roman and Naomi exchanged a look.
Victor continued.
“And he says the person responsible is Naomi Bell.”
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