Chapter 9 - THE PRICE OF TELLING THE TRUTH|
By the following Monday, the Romano family scandal had reached the newspapers.
The first headline appeared shortly after seven in the morning.
ROMANO FAMILY ENGAGEMENT ENDS IN PUBLIC CONFRONTATION.
The second was worse.
BUSINESS EMPIRE FACES QUESTIONS OVER MISSING MILLIONS.
But the third headline made Daniel put down his coffee and stare at his phone for nearly a full minute.
SOURCE CLAIMS RECOVERING ADDICT LINKED TO FINANCIAL INVESTIGATION.
I found him sitting alone at the kitchen island.
His work boots were beside his chair.
His lunchbox remained unopened.
He looked up when I entered.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Have you seen this?”
He handed me his phone.
I read the article.
It described Daniel as a former substance abuser with a history of financial irresponsibility.
It mentioned the investigation.
And it repeated an anonymous claim that his recovery had been exaggerated to improve his public image.
I felt sick.
“Daniel, this isn't evidence.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
But his voice sounded distant.
The article included a photograph of him leaving the engagement dinner.
His eyes were red.
His shoulders were hunched.
And beneath the picture, the caption suggested he had been involved in a drunken confrontation.
I looked up.
“That picture doesn't prove anything.”
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
“Pictures don't have to prove things.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“They just have to make people think something.”
I sat opposite him.
“Have you spoken to Gabriel?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He looked toward the window.
“Because I know what he'll do.”
“What?”
“He'll call the editor.”
Daniel sighed.
“He'll threaten a lawsuit.”
He swallowed.
“And then everyone will write another story about the dangerous Romano family silencing the press.”
I considered that.
“You have a point.”
He looked surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I put the phone down.
“But that doesn't mean you have to accept a lie.”
Daniel stared at the article.
Then he whispered, “I can't go through this again.”
My chest tightened.
“Through what?”
“Having everyone look at me like they're waiting for me to fail.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, “What would help right now?”
Daniel looked at me.
The question seemed to catch him off guard.
He thought for several seconds.
“Coffee.”
I smiled.
“There's some in the pot.”
“And maybe someone who'll tell me I'm not crazy for being upset.”
I reached across the table.
“You're not crazy for being upset.”
He nodded slowly.
“Thanks.”
Gabriel entered a few minutes later.
He was wearing a dark suit and carrying his phone.
His expression told me he'd already seen the article.
“Danny.”
Daniel looked up.
“Morning.”
Gabriel approached him.
“I want you to know—”
“Please don't call the newspaper.”
Gabriel stopped.
Daniel swallowed.
“Not yet.”
Gabriel looked at his brother for a long moment.
Then he put his phone away.
“Okay.”
Daniel blinked.
“Okay?”
“It's your story too.”
Gabriel pulled out a chair.
“Tell me how you want to handle it.”
Daniel stared at him.
For a moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then he smiled faintly.
“That's new.”
Gabriel gave a tired laugh.
“I'm learning.”
Daniel looked down.
“I don't want people thinking I'm ashamed of being in recovery.”
“Good.”
“But I don't want my worst years turned into entertainment.”
Gabriel nodded.
“That makes sense.”
Daniel took a breath.
“I think I want to say something publicly.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“Then I'll support you.”
“Not as a Romano family statement.”
Daniel looked directly at him.
“As myself.”
Gabriel smiled.
“I think Dad would like that.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Yeah.”
He swallowed.
“I think he would.”
That afternoon, Daniel met with his independent attorney, Rebecca Shaw.
She was a sharp, practical woman in her forties who listened more than she spoke.
Her first question surprised him.
“What outcome do you want?”
Daniel frowned.
“Don't you need to know whether I'm innocent?”
“I've reviewed the preliminary evidence.”
She folded her hands.
“I believe you have strong grounds to challenge these allegations.”
Then she repeated her question.
“What outcome do you want?”
Daniel thought for a moment.
“I want my name cleared.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And?”
“I want whoever used my identity held accountable.”
“Anything else?”
He hesitated.
Then said quietly, “I want to keep my life.”
Rebecca's expression softened.
“What does that mean?”
“I want to go to work.”
He looked down.
“I want to attend my meetings.”
“I want to pay my rent.”
He paused.
“And I don't want to wake up every morning wondering whether somebody's going to turn my past against me again.”
Rebecca nodded.
“That's a reasonable goal.”
She explained the importance of preserving documents, making a formal identity-theft report, and responding carefully to media allegations.
She also warned Daniel that the process could be slow.
He listened without interrupting.
Then he signed the engagement agreement.
For the first time, he had a lawyer who answered to him alone.
Meanwhile, Gabriel faced a different problem.
Richard Vale had requested a meeting.
He claimed he could explain the missing accounts.
But he would speak only if Gabriel came without investigators.
Gabriel refused.
Instead, Mercer arranged for Vale's attorney to receive a formal request for records and invited him to provide information through proper legal channels.
Vale responded by threatening to release additional allegations about Daniel.
Gabriel read the message.
Then handed it to Mercer.
“Preserve it.”
Mercer looked at him.
“That's all?”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“For now.”
“That's unusually restrained.”
Gabriel gave a humorless smile.
“My father left me one last piece of advice.”
He looked toward Daniel's photograph on the desk.
“I'm trying to follow it.”
That evening, I went to my mother's house.
A discreet security vehicle remained parked half a block away.
My sister Emily opened the door before I reached the steps.
She hugged me tightly.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Are you?”
She hesitated.
“Better.”
Inside, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table with a stack of bills.
She looked exhausted.
I recognized the expression immediately.
It was the one she wore when she was trying not to worry us.
“Mom.”
She looked up.
“Oh, honey.”
I embraced her.
For a moment, I was twenty years old again, wondering how we'd survive after my father died.
Then Mom pulled back.
“Claire, tell me what's happening.”
I sat beside her.
I told her about Daniel.
About Victoria.
About the financial investigation.
And about the threats.
Mom listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she took my hand.
“You stood up for somebody who needed help.”
I nodded.
“And now we're being threatened because of it.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“That doesn't mean you were wrong.”
My eyes filled.
“I don't want anything happening to you.”
“I know.”
She smiled sadly.
“But I don't want you living your life afraid to do the decent thing.”
Emily sat beside us.
“Besides, the guy from the security company is very serious about his job.”
I laughed weakly.
“What did he do?”
“He asked the mail carrier for identification.”
Mom shook her head.
“Poor Mr. Jenkins.”
For the first time in days, all three of us laughed.
Then Mom's expression grew serious.
“Claire, I need to tell you something.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“A woman called yesterday.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“She said her name was Victoria Langford.”
I went cold.
“What did she want?”
Mom looked down.
“She offered to pay off the mortgage.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said she knew you were under a lot of pressure.”
Emily's face changed.
“Mom, you didn't tell me that.”
Mom shook her head.
“She said she'd help us if Claire agreed to stop talking about the Romano family.”
I felt sick.
“What did you say?”
Mom looked me in the eye.
“I told her I didn't raise my daughters to sell their honesty.”
Tears filled my eyes.
Mom smiled.
“Then I hung up.”
I embraced her so tightly she laughed.
“Careful, sweetheart.”
But I couldn't let go.
Because Victoria had underestimated my mother.
She'd mistaken financial hardship for a willingness to betray someone.
And I was beginning to understand that the same mistake had shaped everything she did.
She believed people were only as loyal as the price someone could offer them.
She couldn't imagine love that survived without a transaction.
The following morning, I told Rebecca Shaw about Victoria's call.
She documented it.
Then she made a request that surprised me.
“Claire, would your mother be willing to provide a statement?”
I hesitated.
“I think so.”
Rebecca nodded.
“That may help establish an effort to influence witnesses.”
I looked toward Daniel.
He was standing near the window, listening quietly.
Then he turned.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Tell your mom thank you.”
I smiled.
“I will.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
His voice softened.
“Tell her somebody whose mother died a long time ago thinks she's pretty incredible.”
My throat tightened.
“I'll tell her.”
Daniel smiled.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?”
His expression changed.
“Mr. Wilson?”
I watched him listen.
He was silent for several seconds.
Then he whispered, “Are you serious?”
Gabriel looked up from his desk.
“Danny?”
Daniel lowered the phone.
His face had gone pale.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked.
Daniel swallowed.
“My boss just called.”
Gabriel stood.
“Is everything okay?”
Daniel looked at us.
“Two customers complained that they don't want someone with my history working inside their homes.”
My chest tightened.
Daniel continued.
“The company says I need to take unpaid leave until this blows over.”
Gabriel's expression darkened.
“I can speak to him.”
Daniel shook his head immediately.
“No.”
“Danny—”
“No, Gabe.”
His voice shook.
“I know you want to help.”
He took a breath.
“But if you buy my job back for me, people will say that's the only reason I had one.”
Gabriel stopped.
Daniel looked down at his hands.
“These are the hands I used to wreck things.”
He swallowed.
“And then I learned how to fix them.”
He looked at his brother.
“I need to know that still matters.”
Gabriel's eyes filled.
“It does.”
Daniel nodded.
Then he left the room.
I watched him walk away.
His shoulders were straight.
But his hands were trembling.
May you like
And I knew the people behind the lies had finally found something worse than taking his money.
They were trying to take the ordinary life he'd worked so hard to earn.
