Chapter 2 - The Audit at Romano House
The staff lounge in the basement of Romano House was quiet, smelling of citrus disinfectant and stale coffee. Sophia sat on the faded velvet sofa, happily chewing on a crustless ham sandwich while watching cartoons on a small television mounted in the corner.
I sat at the formica table, my hands clasped tightly around a mug of chamomile tea that had long gone cold. My mind was racing.
I was twenty-six years old. Two years ago, my husband, a low-level accountant for a logistics company, had died in a hit-and-run accident that the police conveniently closed within three weeks. Left with a mountain of medical debt and a newborn baby, I had taken the first job that paid cash: night shift cleaning lady at Romano Hospitality.
I knew who Adrian Romano was. Everyone in New York did. He was the refined face of an empire built on shadows, a man who walked the line between high society and the criminal underworld with absolute precision. Getting involved in his internal politics was dangerous—potentially lethal. But I couldn't let them pin a theft on me. If I lost my clean record, I lost my chance at getting a real accounting job, and if I went to prison, Sophia would be placed in foster care.
The door to the lounge opened, and Mrs. Greco stepped in, carrying a fresh tray of pastries. Her face was pale, and her hands shook as she set the tray on the table.
"Maria, child," she whispered, leaning over to glance at the hallway. "What did you do up there? In thirty years of working for the Romano family, I have never seen Mr. Romano order an immediate audit of the security servers."
"I just told the truth," I said softly.
"The truth is a dangerous thing in this house," Mrs. Greco warned, squeezing my shoulder. "Vincent Castellano isn't just chief of security. His family has been tied to the Romanos for three generations. His uncle sits on the commission in Brooklyn. You accused him of stealing from his own boss."
"He did steal," I insisted. "Fifty thousand dollars was missing from the safe on Wednesday morning. He framed me because he knew I was the only person on the floor that night."
Before Mrs. Greco could answer, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.
The door swung open, and Adrian Romano stepped into the lounge. He had removed his suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt to reveal tanned, muscular forearms marred by a long, jagged scar near his wrist.
Behind him stood two large men in dark overcoats—men I recognized as Adrian's personal bodyguards, the ones who usually stayed out of sight in the armored SUVs parked outside.
Vincent Castellano was nowhere to be seen.
Adrian walked straight over to our table. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, then glanced over at Sophia, who gave him a cautious little wave with a sandwich-stained hand.
"Mrs. Greco," Adrian said calmly. "Take the little girl up to the conservatory. Let her see the tropical birds."
"Yes, Mr. Romano," the old housekeeper said instantly, hurrying over to pick up Sophia.
"Mami?" Sophia asked, looking back at me as Mrs. Greco carried her toward the door.
"It's okay, sweetie," I called out, forcing a reassuring smile. "Go look at the birds. Mami will be right there."
Once the door clicked shut, leaving only Adrian, his two bodyguards, and me in the room, the atmosphere tightened instantly.
Adrian pulled out a chair opposite me and sat down. He placed a silver USB flash drive on the table between us.
"We ran the digital audit," Adrian said, his low baritone voice filling the room. "The security footage Vincent provided for January twenty-third was edited. The timestamp was overlaid from an older archive file. And the keycard logs at the waterfront dock were manipulated from a remote terminal inside this building at eleven-thirty p.m. on the thirtieth."
I let out a long, shuddering breath I didn't realize I was holding. "So you believe me?"
"I believe the data," Adrian corrected smoothly. "And the data says you were telling the truth. Vincent was at the safe. He took sixty-five thousand dollars in unmarked cash from the restaurant receipts, and he used your shift log to create a paper trail pointing directly to you."
"Where is he?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Adrian's eyes darkened slightly. "Vincent has been relieved of his duties. He is currently being escorted off the premises by my men, pending a full financial review of all operations under his control."
I closed my eyes for a second, relief washing over me like a wave of warm water. "Thank you, Mr. Romano. Does this mean I can go back to work?"
"No," Adrian said softly.
May you like
My eyes snapped open. "What? Why? You just said I was innocent!"
"You are innocent of theft, Maria," Adrian said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. His stormy gray eyes bored into mine with terrifying intensity. "But you just exposed the chief of security for the largest syndicate in the tri-state area. Vincent Castellano is a powerful man with dangerous relatives. He knows you ruined him. If you walk out those doors and go back to your basement apartment in Queens, you won't survive the week."
