Chương 2
“Who?”
Nora looked at Helena.
Roman followed her eyes.
The room became smaller.
Helena’s confidence began to weaken.
“You have always been dramatic,” Helena said.
Roman walked toward her.
Several guests moved aside without being asked.
He did not rush.
That was what frightened them.
Helena lifted her chin.
“You think you know everything?”
Roman stopped in front of her.
For a moment, he looked less like a powerful man and more like a son realizing his own family had been lying to him.
“You let me bury a daughter who was alive.”
Helena’s face hardened.
“You were never there.”
The sentence cut deeper because it carried a piece of truth.
Roman’s jaw tightened.
He had missed things.
Important things.
He had spent years believing money could solve problems that required presence.
But he had tried.
At least he believed he had.
“I called,” he said.
Helena gave a quiet laugh.
“You sent money.”
The room stayed silent.
Roman hated that she said it because some part of him wondered if it was true.
A father could send every dollar in the world and still fail to be there.
But he had not abandoned Sophie.
Someone had taken the choice away from him.
Helena reached toward Sophie.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
Sophie immediately moved behind Roman.
The tiny hand grabbed the back of his suit jacket.
That small action changed the entire room.
Roman looked down at the hand holding him.
Then he looked back at his mother.
“Do not touch her.”
Helena’s expression finally cracked.
Only for a second.
But Roman saw it.
The fear was there.
And once he saw it, he could not ignore it.
“You have been hiding something,” he said.
Helena looked around at the watching guests.
Her voice became softer.
“Not everything is about you.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Then tell me what it is about.”
Nobody answered.
The music from the banquet speakers continued playing quietly until someone finally reached over and turned it off.
The sudden silence made the room feel even larger.
Sophie pressed her face against Roman’s jacket.
He could feel her shaking.
For the first time in years, the man everyone feared felt powerless.
Not because someone threatened him.
Not because someone challenged his authority.
Because a three-year-old child was afraid of losing him again.
And Roman D’Angelo could survive almost anything except that.
The silence lasted long enough for people to become uncomfortable with their own breathing.
Roman kept one hand slightly behind him, protecting Sophie without making her feel trapped.
The child held onto his jacket with both hands, her fingers wrapped tightly around the expensive fabric as if letting go would make him disappear.
Nora watched the two of them and lowered her eyes.
There was guilt in her face, but there was also something Roman had not expected.
Fear.
Not fear of him.
Fear of what would happen if the truth came out.
“Everyone leaves,” Sophie whispered.
Roman looked down.
The words were barely audible, but they reached him.
“What did you say?”
Sophie looked at the floor.
“People leave.”
The room became unbearably quiet again.
Roman had faced armed men, courtroom battles, and enemies who wanted his name erased from the city.
None of those moments prepared him for a child saying something so simple.
He crouched beside her.
“I’m not leaving.”
Sophie did not answer.
She looked at him the way children looked at promises they wanted to believe but had heard broken before.
Roman glanced at Nora.
“How long has she been living like this?”
Nora rubbed her thumb against her palm.
“Roman.”
“How long?”
Her hesitation was the answer.
A muscle moved in his jaw.
“I need the truth.”
Nora looked around the room full of strangers.
“Not here.”
Roman almost laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“My daughter walked into a room full of people who know my name better than they know my face and told me she thought I was dead.”
His voice lowered.
“I think here is exactly where we start.”
Several guests shifted uncomfortably.
They were used to violence.
They were used to threats.
They were not used to watching a powerful man lose control because of a child’s missing years.
Helena stepped forward.
“Roman, this is becoming unnecessary.”
He turned toward her.
“No.”
The single word stopped her.
“You decided what was necessary three years ago.”
Helena’s expression tightened.
“I protected this family.”
“You protected yourself.”
A few people looked away.
Nobody wanted to be seen choosing a side.
That was how power worked in rooms like this.
People waited until the winner was obvious.
Roman noticed every person who avoided his eyes.
He remembered their faces.
Not because he wanted revenge.
Because he had spent his entire life learning that silence was a decision.
Helena looked at Sophie.
“She was not safe with you.”
Roman stared at her.
“Explain.”
Helena opened her mouth.
Nothing came out immediately.
That small delay told him more than an answer would have.
“I made choices,” she finally said.
“You made choices about my child.”
“She is my granddaughter.”
“She is my daughter.”
Their voices never became loud.
That made the confrontation worse.
Anger shouted was easier to dismiss.
Controlled anger meant someone was holding something back.
Nora moved closer.
“I should have told you.”
Roman looked at her.
The confession changed the direction of his anger.
“You knew.”
“I knew something was wrong.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Nora closed her eyes for a moment.
“I knew the payments were coming.”
The words hung there.
Roman felt the room move around him.
“Then why did you tell me they stopped?”
Nora looked ashamed.
“Because I was told they stopped.”
“By her?”
Nora did not answer.
She did not need to.
Roman looked toward Helena again.
May you like
For the first time that night, the older woman looked less like someone in control and more like someone trying to hold together a story that was falling apart.
A server quietly placed a towel over the broken glass near the table.
