Chapter 8 - The Trial of the Duca Name
Dominic’s arrest did not save my reputation.
It destroyed what remained of it.
Once the evidence became public, Boston learned what the Duca family had hidden for decades.
Judges resigned.
Port officials were arrested.
Construction contracts were reviewed.
Old victims came forward.
Reporters camped outside the mansion.
My lawyers begged me to say less.
I said more.
I turned over every ledger I controlled.
Illegal betting accounts.
Extortion records.
Bribery lists.
Payments I had authorized.
Payments I had inherited.
I did not pretend all the crimes belonged to dead men.
Some belonged to me.
Agent Lane offered no immunity.
I did not ask.
Grace found me late one night surrounded by documents.
“You’re really doing it.”
“Yes.”
“You could lose everything.”
“Yes.”
“The house?”
“Possibly.”
Her eyes moved toward the hallway where Mia and Sophie were sleeping.
“What happens to them?”
“They stay safe.”
“How?”
“I set up an independent trust using legitimate money.”
Grace stared.
“Roman.”
“It doesn’t buy you.”
“I know.”
“It belongs to the girls if anything happens.”
She looked away.
Then back.
“You did that without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds suspiciously like making decisions for us.”
I almost smiled.
“It is.”
“Fix it.”
So I did.
The trust became conditional on Grace approving it through an independent attorney.
She laughed when she saw the revision.
“You actually listened.”
“Don’t sound surprised.”
“I’m deeply surprised.”
My criminal cases moved toward negotiated pleas.
No murder charges.
No evidence tied me directly to physical violence in the cases prosecutors could prove.
But there were financial crimes.
Conspiracy.
Racketeering-related counts.
I accepted responsibility.
Dominic faced kidnapping, conspiracy, corruption, attempted murder, and multiple violent charges.
Salvatore received a reduced sentence for cooperation.
Helen Bell entered witness protection after testifying about the threats against Grace.
Luca testified too.
He resigned from security and told me he did not expect forgiveness.
I told him I was not ready to offer it.
That was the truth.
Grace attended court only when necessary.
Mia attended once.
She sat beside Grace wearing a blue ribbon and holding Sophie’s hand.
When the prosecutor asked whether she recognized Dominic, she pointed.
“That’s the man who told Mrs. Bell the little one heard too much.”
The courtroom went silent.
Dominic looked away.
Afterward, Mia asked me:
“Did I do good?”
“You told the truth.”
“Is that good?”
“Yes.”
She thought.
“Even when people get mad?”
“Especially then.”
She nodded.
Then asked for ice cream.
Reasonable.
My own sentencing came months later.
Probationary restrictions.
Financial penalties.
Asset forfeitures.
Mandatory cooperation.
I lost several companies.
I kept the legitimate logistics firm under independent compliance oversight.
I kept the mansion only because it had been legally separated from criminal assets decades earlier.
That felt like an accident of paperwork.
But the house no longer felt like mine alone.
Grace and the girls had changed it.
The hidden west room was opened permanently.
No locks.
No secret doors.
No one lived behind walls anymore.
Michael Vane recovered.
He testified about Lucia and Daniel Harper.
Grace finally learned who her father had been.
A detective who tried to expose men more powerful than himself.
Her grief changed.
Not smaller.
Clearer.
Then came the day I found Grace packing.
My chest tightened.
“Where are you going?”
She looked up.
“Apartment hunting.”
I stared.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
She saw it.
“Roman.”
“I thought you were safe here.”
“I am.”
“Then why?”
“Because I need to know I can leave.”
I understood.
Choice.
Again.
“When?”
“End of the month.”
I nodded.
Then asked the hardest question I had ever asked without a weapon in my hand.
“Will you still come back?”
Grace’s expression softened.
May you like
“Yes.”
That answer saved me.
