Roman scratches his chin. “If it started with Umberto and Aldo brought him in, maybe Aldo reneged on their deal. Your dad was a fucking bastard, Dom. He’d totally fuck with the FBI and enjoy doing it.”
I glance at Dom, wondering if he agrees. His nod suggests it’s a possibility.
“But your dad died years ago.”
“Paying for the sins of the father,” Dom shrugs.
Roman flips through my carefully organized files, his expression unreadable. "Impressive work," he finally says, looking up at me. "You're thorough. Methodical. You connect dots others miss." His eyes narrow slightly. "Just like your father."
It takes a moment for me to realize what he said. “My father?”
Dom shifts beside me, his body tensing, his head shaking toward Roman almost imperceptibly.
“His reputation preceded him. Smart cop. Incorruptible, they said." A pause. "At least, that's what most people thought."
“Fuck,” Dom hisses.
My stomach drops. "What are you implying?"
Roman holds my gaze steadily. "Your father was good at playing both sides. Very good. It's why Aldo valued him so highly. In fact, from where I stand, he was the only man Aldo respected. Even more than Dom here.”
Dom shakes his head. “That’s enough Roman.”
The room seems to tilt slightly. "My father was a good cop."
"He was," Roman agrees, and somehow that's worse. "One of the best. That's what made him so effective for the Vitale family."
I look at Dom, searching for denial, but find only careful neutrality.
"You're lying.” What he’s suggesting is ludicrous. “My father wasn’t corrupt.”
"Not corrupt," Roman interrupts. "Strategic. There's a difference."
I feel Dom's hand on my back, like he’s trying to steady me. But my world is spinning off its axis.
"That's a lie," I snap. "My father was a good cop. A good man."
Roman doesn't flinch at my outburst. His eyes, cold, calculating, remain fixed on mine. The thought hits me: Maybe he’s the one who killed my father.
"Did you do it? Did you kill him?"
Roman's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in his posture. A subtle tensing that reminds me how dangerous he truly is. “No.”
I turn to Dom, desperate for him to deny this. To tell me this is a cruel joke. "Did you know about this?"
The pain in his eyes tells me everything before he speaks. "Olivia?—"
"Don't." My throat tightens. "Just don't."
"I didn't kill your father," Roman says, his voice level. "In fact, I tried to recruit him."
The statement is so unexpected it momentarily derails my anger. "What?"
"Your father was wasted working for Aldo," Roman continues. "Marco recognized his talents. We wanted him to work for the Calabresi family instead."
I shake my head, trying to process what he's saying. "That's not possible. My father wasn't—he wouldn't?—"
"He turned us down," Roman says. "Said he'd given his word to Aldo. Honor among thieves, I suppose."
