Roman’s voice remained controlled, but his right hand had closed into a fist.
“Gabriel Sable entered the facility twelve minutes before the second explosion. His body was identified from dental records. The report claiming an electrical failure was signed the next morning.”
“I was seventeen.”
“You were the only person pulled alive from the lower laboratory.”
“I pulled Vivienne out.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because my brother called me from inside the building. He said two girls were trapped below the testing floor. He was going back for them.”
Mara remembered a man in a smoke mask breaking through the laboratory window. She remembered him lifting a fallen beam. She remembered pushing Vivienne through the opening before the ceiling collapsed.
She had never seen his face.
“The rescue worker,” she whispered.
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“His name was Gabriel.”
Mara looked down at her hands.
Her family had told her the rescuer had survived.
They had said he refused publicity.
They had said she should focus on healing instead of asking questions.
“My father told me everyone escaped.”
“Your father purchased the silence of three inspectors, two paramedics, and a government minister.”
“No.”
Roman placed a thin folder on the couch.
Inside were photographs of the Greyhaven facility after the fire. Payment records. Internal messages. A picture of a younger Roman standing beside a smiling man in a customs uniform.
Mara recognized the eyes.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
“I believe you.”
“Why?”
“Because the woman responsible for Gabriel’s death would not wake from sedation asking whether her sister was safe.”
Mara closed the folder.
“Then you know I had nothing to do with it. Let me go.”
Roman walked toward the dark orchestra pit.
“Lucian fabricated your death less than an hour after you disappeared.”
“He is protecting the wedding.”
“He staged a burning vehicle.”
“He may think you killed me.”
“Then he would demand proof.”
Roman turned back.
“He did not ask for your return. He sent men to the eastern breakwater to ensure the vehicle remained underwater.”
Mara’s mouth went dry.
“You are lying.”
“I have survived by knowing when people want something recovered and when they want it erased.”
“I am not part of his business.”
“You designed Tideglass.”
The name struck harder than a threat.
Tideglass was Bellweather Maritime’s autonomous routing system. Mara had spent nine years building it, first as an engineer and later as chief systems architect. It could redirect an entire fleet around storms, military blockades, labor strikes, or congested ports in seconds.
It could also create routes that appeared nowhere in standard shipping records.
Mara stood despite the pain in her head.
“Tideglass cannot move a vessel without human authorization.”
“Whose authorization?”
“Mine.”
“And if you die?”
Her silence answered him.
Roman approached slowly.
“Your access is suspended. The board receives temporary control. Lucian completes the merger with Bellweather tomorrow afternoon. By nightfall, he owns the only navigation system capable of hiding his ships from every commercial tracking network in Europe.”
Mara stared at him.
“My father would stop it.”
“Your father is standing beside Lucian at a press conference mourning you.”
The theater seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
Roman caught her elbow.
Mara pulled away so violently that the blanket fell.
For one second she stood beneath the work lights with the ruined gown hanging around her and every scar exposed.
Roman immediately turned his back.
Not because he was disgusted.
Because she had not chosen to be seen.
The distinction nearly undid her.
He removed his jacket and held it behind him.
Mara took it.
The fabric smelled faintly of rain and cedar smoke.
When she had covered herself, she said, “You can turn around.”
Roman faced her.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“The truth about Greyhaven. Access to Tideglass. Evidence against Lucian.”
“And what do I receive?”
“The opportunity to remain alive.”
“That sounds less like a partnership than a threat.”
“It is not a threat from me.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“Yes.”
“You drugged me.”
“My men did.”
“Under your orders.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Then do not stand there pretending you are my protector.”
“I am not pretending to be anything.”
The fury in her voice echoed through the empty theater.
“What happens if I refuse?”
Roman reached into his pocket.
He placed a phone and a set of keys on the couch.
“The side door leads to an alley. The blue car belongs to Dr. Voss. You may take it.”
Mara looked at the objects.
“No guards?”
“None.”
“You expect me to believe you will simply release me?”
“I took the wrong person. Keeping you against your will would not correct that mistake.”