Chapter 43 - The Courtroom Ambush
The petition arrived forty-eight hours later.
Roman read it twice.
Then a third time.
“This is absurd.”
Emily Rhodes sat across from him.
“It is also legally filed.”
Clara took the document.
Emergency child welfare petition.
Allegations included organized crime exposure, historical violence, illegal security operations, firearms in the residence, and ongoing threats created by Roman’s past.
Clara’s face tightened.
“They’re trying to take our children.”
“Temporarily,” Rhodes said.
Roman stood.
“No.”
“Roman.”
“No government official is removing my children from this house.”
Rhodes looked at him.
“Statements like that are why the petition sounds credible.”
He froze.
Clara closed her eyes.
“Sit down.”
Roman sat.
Angrily.
The petitioner was anonymous.
But supporting affidavits came from former Duca employees.
Old captains.
Security contractors.
People Roman had dismissed when he ended illegal operations.
Marcus looked through the names.
“Half of these people hate us.”
Rhodes nodded.
“And half have legitimate stories.”
Roman looked at her.
“Meaning?”
“You were involved in organized crime.”
“I noticed.”
“A judge will consider whether your history creates continuing danger.”
Clara asked, “What do we do?”
“We tell the truth.”
Roman laughed without humor.
“The truth is messy.”
“So are courts.”
The emergency hearing was scheduled for the next morning.
Outside the courthouse, cameras waited.
The story had leaked.
FORMER MAFIA BOSS FIGHTS FOR CUSTODY OF CHILDREN.
ROMAN DUCA’S PAST RETURNS.
Clara stepped from the car.
Roman reached for her hand.
“You don’t need to do this.”
“They’re my children too.”
“I mean the cameras.”
Clara looked at the crowd.
“For years, everyone told your story for you.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Today we tell ours.”
Inside, opposing counsel presented photographs.
Old Roman carrying weapons.
Roman leaving crime scenes.
Roman beside men later convicted of murder.
Clara felt his hand tighten beneath the table.
The attorney asked, “Mr. Duca, have you killed people?”
Silence.
Rhodes, sitting behind them as observer, watched carefully.
Roman could evade.
Claim privilege.
Refuse.
Instead he answered.
“Yes.”
The courtroom went silent.
The attorney looked surprised.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara’s heart hurt.
“Do you regret it?”
Roman looked toward his children’s empty seats.
They were safely with Adrian.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“No.”
Murmurs filled the room.
The attorney smiled.
“So you still justify violence.”
Roman looked at him.
“I regret becoming someone who thought violence solved everything.”
He paused.
“But there were moments when I protected people from immediate harm. I will not pretend I regret saving them simply because the method was ugly.”
The attorney continued.
“Can you guarantee your past will never endanger your children again?”
Roman’s face changed.
“No.”
Clara closed her eyes.
The attorney smiled wider.
“No further questions.”
Then Clara testified.
She described Roman surrendering criminal control.
Sofia House.
Restitution.
Years without illegal operations.
She did not romanticize him.
That mattered.
“My husband has done terrible things,” she said.
Roman looked toward her.
“But this petition is not asking whether Roman Duca deserves a medal.”
She faced the judge.
“It asks whether he is a father who loves, protects, educates, comforts, and shows up for his children.”
The courtroom became quiet.
“He attends parent-teacher conferences with spreadsheets.”
A few people laughed.
Roman looked offended.
“He learned to braid hair because Sofia refused to let anyone else do it before school.”
The judge almost smiled.
“He sleeps outside Antonio’s door when our son has nightmares because Antonio insists he’s too old to ask his father to stay.”
Roman looked down.
Clara’s voice cracked.
“He is not innocent.”
She took a breath.
“But he is present.”
The judge postponed the ruling until an independent home assessment.
Then the opposing attorney announced a surprise witness.
“Vincent Moretti.”
Roman turned.
Vincent entered in federal custody.
Clara whispered, “What is he doing?”
Vincent took the stand.
The attorney asked, “Mr. Moretti, did Roman Duca create circumstances that endangered his children?”
Vincent looked at Roman.
“Yes.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Did his family history lead directly to Antonio Duca’s kidnapping?”
“Yes.”
The attorney smiled.
“Then would you agree the children would be safer away from him?”
Vincent went silent.
Everyone waited.
Then he said, “No.”
The attorney froze.
Vincent continued.
“I kidnapped Antonio.”
Roman stared.
“I approached Sofia.”
The courtroom exploded in murmurs.
Vincent looked toward the judge.
“Roman Duca had opportunities to kill me. He did not.”
The attorney snapped, “You are cooperating for leniency.”
“Yes.”
“Then your testimony is self-serving.”
Vincent nodded.
“Probably.”
He looked at Roman.
“But the truth remains.”
The attorney asked, “Why testify for him?”
Vincent’s answer stunned everyone.
“Because I spent my life blaming children for the sins of fathers.”
He looked toward where Sofia and Antonio should have been.
“And somebody has to stop.”
The judge ordered the custody petition dismissed pending the routine safety review.
Outside, Roman approached Vincent before marshals removed him.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Vincent shrugged.
“My father deserved better than what Antonio did.”
Roman nodded.
“Yes.”
“But your children do not deserve worse because of it.”
Roman held out his hand.
Vincent stared.
Then shook it.
Not friendship.
Not forgiveness.
Something smaller.
Maybe the beginning of peace.
Then Rhodes’s phone rang.
Her face changed.
“What?”
Roman looked toward her.
She lowered the phone.
“The anonymous petitioner has been identified.”
“Who?”
Rhodes looked at Clara.
“Someone named Samuel Bell.”
Catherine’s dead husband.
A man buried sixty years ago had just filed a modern court petition.
May you like
Someone was using the identity of the dead.
Again.
