Chapter 8 - The Price Of Blood And Blindness
The silence in the ship’s cabin was suffocating. The only sound was the distant wind howling over the lake and the soft, rhythmic breathing of our sleeping child.
Vincent stood by the doorway, his eyes darting between Roman’s kneeling form and my pale, feverish face. For a man who had ruled the criminal underworld with an iron fist, seeing Roman Moretti broken on the floor of a rusted cargo freighter was something none of us had ever imagined.
""Stand up, Roman,"" I whispered.
He didn't move. ""Not until you tell me she’s safe. Not until you tell me you won't vanish.""
""Stand up!"" I demanded, my voice sharp enough to echo down the metal corridor.
He rose slowly, his broad shoulders slumped, his eyes hollowed out by grief and terror. He looked ten years older than the man who had buttoned his coat in front of our nursery mirror four hours ago.
""The federal raid isn't a bluff,"" I said, holding out the red drive. ""The papers are filed. By tomorrow morning, the U.S. Attorney’s office will seize the docks, the trucking lines, and every commercial asset tied to the Moretti name.""
Roman looked at the drive, then up at me. He didn't flinch.
""Let them take it,"" he said quietly.
Vincent frowned. ""What did you say?""
""Let them take it,"" Roman repeated, his voice gaining a strange, absolute calm. ""Every dollar. Every building. Every blood-soaked cent I spent ten years clawing out of the dirt. Let the feds have it all.""
He took three steps forward, stopping just an arm’s length from me. He didn't reach for Sophie; he kept his hands open, showing he was completely defenseless.
""I built an empire because I thought power meant safety,"" Roman said, tears cutting clean lines through the grime on his face. ""I thought if I was the most terrifying monster in the room, nobody could ever hurt what was mine. But the monster ate my own home from the inside out.""
He looked down at Sophie. His large, scarred hand hovered inches above her cheek, wanting desperately to touch her, but held back by profound shame.
""I don't care about the Moretti syndicate, Aaron. I don't care about Milwaukee. I will sign the non-prosecution surrender. I will hand over every dirty associate in the state to keep you and Sophie completely clear of the fallout. But don't make me live in a world where my daughter doesn't know my face.""
I looked down at our baby. At that moment, Sophie stretched her tiny arms, her eyes fluttering open beneath the yellow cabin light. She looked up with wide, dark eyes—eyes that were an exact mirror of Roman’s.
A wave of overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. The fever was burning through my veins, my knees shook violently, and the burden of carrying all this fury suddenly became too heavy to bear.
""You have to sign everything over to the state, Roman,"" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. ""You have to step down. Completely. No capos. No territory. No back-alley deals.""
""Done,"" he choked out without a second of hesitation.
""And Vincent takes the legitimate shipping lines in Canada,"" I added, looking at the older brother. ""He oversees what is left to build an honest trust for Sophie.""
Vincent nodded slowly, lowering his weapon. ""I agree to that.""
""And what about me?"" Roman asked, his heart in his throat, terrified of the answer.
""You have to learn how to be a father,"" I said, my vision blurring as the room began to spin. ""Not a boss. A father.""
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Before Roman could answer, the adrenaline that had kept me upright for five hours finally evaporated. My knees gave out completely, and the world tilted into blackness.
The last thing I felt was Roman’s powerful, desperate arms catching us before we could hit the floor.
