Part 6: The Father Who Never Died
Part 6: The Father Who Never Died
The call ended.
Emily stared at her phone as if the screen might suddenly explain everything.
“My father is alive.”
Roman said nothing.
She looked at him.
“He said you’re the reason they came for him.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“I heard.”
The sound of footsteps approached from the basement stairs.
Victor appeared.
“We have to move.”
Roman looked at him.
“Where?”
“There’s an old tunnel beneath the house.”
Emily frowned.
“My father built it?”
Victor nodded.
“He built several escape routes when he realized Aurelius was watching him.”
Roman took Emily’s hand.
“Let’s go.”
They moved through the basement.
Victor opened a concealed panel behind the shelves.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Emily looked at Roman.
“You trust him?”
Roman glanced at Victor.
“No.”
Victor heard him.
“Good.”
He opened the door at the bottom.
“Don’t trust anyone tonight.”
They entered the tunnel.
Behind them, the house shook from another explosion.
Emily flinched.
Roman immediately moved closer.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Emily looked at him.
“I don’t know how not to.”
Roman stopped walking.
“Then learn.”
She stared at him.
“You’re asking me to trust you when my father just said you’re responsible for what happened to him.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t even know why.”
“I know.”
Emily swallowed.
“That’s not reassuring.”
Roman stepped closer.
“But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“If I hurt your father, I will find out why.”
“And if you didn’t?”
“Then I’ll find the person who did.”
Emily studied his face.
There was no anger toward her.
No defensiveness.
Only determination.
She nodded.
“Okay.”
They continued through the tunnel.
After nearly twenty minutes, they reached an underground garage.
An old car waited there.
Victor handed Roman the keys.
“There’s a safe location outside the city.”
Roman started the engine.
“Where?”
“My former employer’s property.”
Emily looked at him.
“Who was your former employer?”
Victor hesitated.
“Thomas Carter.”
Emily’s eyes widened.
“You worked for my father?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Seven years.”
Emily looked out the window.
“Then you knew me.”
Victor nodded.
“I watched you grow up.”
She turned toward him.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Because your father asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew who I was, you could have been followed.”
Emily looked down.
Her entire childhood seemed full of secrets.
Roman drove in silence.
After an hour, they reached a secluded farmhouse.
Victor unlocked the door.
Inside were maps, computers, radio equipment, and dozens of photographs.
Emily stopped.
There were pictures of her.
From different ages.
Eight.
Fifteen.
Twenty-one.
Twenty-eight.
Thirty-five.
She stared at them.
“Someone has been watching me my entire life.”
Victor shook his head.
“Not watching.”
“Protecting.”
Emily turned sharply.
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes.”
Victor pointed toward the photographs.
“Every time Aurelius came close, your father moved you somewhere they couldn’t find.”
Emily’s voice trembled.
“Then why did he let me believe he was dead?”
“Because he believed a dead father was safer than a missing one.”
Roman walked toward a large map.
“There are locations marked here.”
Victor nodded.
“Safe houses.”
Roman studied them.
“One of these is near Duca Tower.”
Victor’s face tightened.
“That one is compromised.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Thomas told me.”
Emily looked at him.
“When did you last speak to my father?”
“Three days ago.”
Her breath caught.
“Three days?”
Victor nodded.
“He contacted me after you entered Duca Consolidated.”
Roman turned.
“Why?”
“Because he knew the investigation had started again.”
Emily asked quietly:
“Did he know about me and Roman?”
Victor hesitated.
“Yes.”
Emily looked away.
“What did he say?”
Victor’s expression softened.
“He said you finally found someone who would stand beside you.”
Emily’s eyes filled with tears.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
Roman remained silent.
Then Victor added:
“But he was worried.”
“About what?”
“About Roman’s family.”
Roman looked at him.
“Why?”
Victor walked to the desk.
He pulled out another folder.
“This.”
Inside was a confidential psychological profile of Roman.
Emily frowned.
“Why does my father have this?”
Victor didn’t answer.
Roman took the folder.
The first page contained his name.
The second contained information about his childhood.
The third contained details about his father’s death.
Then Roman stopped.
At the bottom of the page was a handwritten note.
Roman does not know what he inherited.
Roman looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Victor shook his head.
“Thomas never explained.”
Emily stepped closer.
“What did Roman inherit?”
Victor looked at Roman.
“Not money.”
A pause.
“Something much more dangerous.”
Roman’s phone rang.
Everyone froze.
The number was unknown.
Roman answered.
A man’s voice came through.
“You have the evidence.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Who are you?”
“You already know.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is my mother?”
“She is safe.”
“Let me speak to her.”
A pause.
Then Margaret’s voice came through.
“Roman.”
His face changed.
“Mom?”
“Don’t come looking for me.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then tell me who has you.”
Margaret hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“Your uncle isn’t the one you should fear.”
Roman went still.
“What?”
“Your uncle works for someone else.”
The line crackled.
Margaret’s voice became urgent.
“Roman, listen to me. Your father trusted the wrong person.”
“Who?”
“Your—”
The call cut off.
Roman stared at the phone.
Emily watched him.
“Your mother was going to say something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Victor looked toward the window.
“We have company.”
Headlights appeared in the distance.
Three vehicles.
Then five.
Emily’s heart raced.
Victor shut off the lights.
“They found us.”
Roman looked at Emily.
“There’s a back exit?”
Victor nodded.
“But if they found this location, they’ll know every route.”
A gunshot shattered the window.
Everyone dropped.
Roman pulled Emily behind the desk.
Victor returned fire.
The attackers surrounded the farmhouse.
Emily clutched the flash drive.
“Roman!”
“What?”
“The evidence.”
“What about it?”
“They’re not trying to kill us.”
Roman looked at her.
“They’re trying to recover the drive.”
Emily nodded.
“Exactly.”
She opened her laptop.
“I can upload everything.”
Victor stared at her.
“To where?”
“Everywhere.”
Roman understood.
“If we release the files publicly, they lose control.”
Emily connected the drive.
The upload began.
Twenty percent.
Gunfire continued outside.
Forty percent.
Roman looked at her.
“How long?”
“Three minutes.”
Victor fired through the window.
“Make it one.”
Emily typed faster.
Sixty percent.
A vehicle crashed through the front gate.
Seventy percent.
Then the farmhouse door exploded.
Men rushed inside.
Roman grabbed Emily and pulled her behind a wall.
Eighty percent.
A gunman raised his weapon.
Victor fired.
The man fell.
Ninety percent.
Emily stared at the screen.
“Come on…”
The progress bar reached one hundred percent.
UPLOAD COMPLETE.
She exhaled.
Roman looked at her.
“Where did you send it?”
Emily smiled weakly.
“To the entire world.”
For the first time that night, Roman almost smiled.
Then every phone in the room began ringing.
News alerts.
Emails.
Messages.
The evidence was spreading.
Aurelius had lost control.
But one final file had appeared on Emily’s screen.
She hadn’t opened it.
The filename was simple.
ROMAN_DUCA_ORIGIN
Emily looked at Roman.
“What’s this?”
His face changed.
“Don’t open it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know.”
She clicked.
The file opened.
A photograph appeared.
Roman’s father.
Margaret.
And a newborn baby.
Emily stared.
Roman stepped closer.
“That isn’t me.”
The photograph contained a handwritten date.
And beneath it:
Child transferred to the Duca family — identity concealed.
Emily looked at Roman.
“You weren’t born a Duca.”
Roman’s face went pale.
“What?”
Another document appeared.
Biological mother: Unknown.
Biological father: Thomas Carter.
Emily stopped breathing.
She looked at Roman.
Then at Victor.
Victor’s face had gone white.
“No,” he whispered.
Emily’s voice barely came out.
“My father…”
Roman stared at the screen.
“Was your father.”
The room fell silent.
The truth was impossible.
Yet the evidence was there.
Roman Duca wasn’t the biological son of the Duca family.
He was Thomas Carter’s son.
Emily’s half-brother.
And somewhere far away, Thomas Carter was watching the same file appear on his screen.
His phone rang.
He answered.
A man’s voice said:
“They know.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Then it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
Thomas looked at a photograph of Emily.
Then at one of Roman.
“For my children to learn why I gave one of them away.”
He hung up.
And for the first time in twelve years, Thomas Carter stepped out of hiding.
