Page 13 of What He Keeps

“He never spoke?”

“Not once,” Roman confirms. “He smiled when he realized he wasn't leaving alive. Then he made sure he took every answer with him.”

Rage moves through me, cold enough to bring clarity and absolute enough to leave room for nothing else. “Whoever sent him anticipated capture.”

“Yes,” Roman agrees. “There was a tattoo on his wrist,” Roman adds. “Distinctive. Black crown above crossed daggers.”

I move to the window and stare toward the dark grounds. “Recognize it?”

“Not yet. My people are checking old crews, Italian contractors, private soldiers, and anyone connected to Enzo DeLuca's eastern operations.”

“It's too clean for Enzo alone.”

“I agree.”

The confirmation doesn't comfort me. It makes the problem worse.

I close my eyes quickly and see Irina's body beneath a white sheet. Maggie's hands covered in blood. Ivy screaming for someone who will never answer again.

“What about Clara?” I ask.

Roman's silence returns, and this time it’s heavier. “We're still working through the communication.”

“The message told her to keep Ivy hidden.”

“Yes.”

“From whom?” I stare out into the darkness beyond the windows.

“We don't know yet.”

I turn from the window, anger burning in my veins. “That answer is no longer acceptable.”

“Yes.”

The restraint in his voice tells me he’s holding back his own fury with effort. Roman loved Clara in his way. He respected Irina. But Ivy is Agapov blood, and someone put hands on her tonight. There’s no forgiveness for that.

“She knew more than she ever told me,” I mutter.

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe.”

Roman exhales slowly. “Alexei.”

I stay silent.

“You were grieving when she died. You were recovering from a shooting that almost killed you. Don’t rewrite history tonight.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. “I should have looked harder.”

“You looked at everything you had.”

“Not everything,” I bite out. “Because if I had, my daughter wouldn’t have been dragged through this nightmare.”

Silence follows. Roman lets it sit because he knows there’s no argument capable of touching that kind of guilt. It lives too deep, and tonight it has teeth.

Finally, he speaks again. “We continue at first light. I have men pulling every archived file connected to Clara, Italy, and Enzo. If there’s a name buried somewhere, we’ll find it.”