Chapter 9 - The Trial of Fire
Victoria’s return was not a random occurrence.
Following the collapse of the Moretti family, several minor factions on the South Side had banded together to try to remove Roman from his position of power. They had found Victoria in a private sanatorium in Switzerland, where she had been living under an assumed name since the fire, and had brought her back to Chicago to use as a weapon against Roman’s mental stability.
"She’s at the clinic, Boss," Declan said, his voice urgent as he burst into Roman’s private study at his Gold Coast estate. "She’s there with three armed men. She says if you don't come down and sign the transfer documents for the Cicero docks, she’ll burn the clinic down with the patients inside."
Roman stood up, his face turning into a mask of pure, murderous rage. "She thinks she can play with fire twice?"
"She has Maggie, Roman," Declan said, his voice dropping into a whisper.
Roman’s heart stopped.
The memory of the burning apartment, the choking smoke, and the sound of Victoria’s laughter returned to his mind with the force of a physical blow. His nervous system screamed, his skin beginning to burn under his clothes as the old panic clawed at his chest.
He fell back against his desk, his breathing coming in short, ragged bursts.
"I... I can't," Roman whispered, his eyes wide with the old terror. "The fire... Declan, I can't go back into that."
Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the desk.
It was a video call from Maggie.
Roman grabbed the phone, his hand shaking.
On the screen, Maggie was sitting in her office, her face calm and unbothered, even though Victoria was standing behind her with a silver lighter in her hand, the flame dancing near Maggie’s face.
"Roman," Maggie said, her voice steady and warm through the speaker. "Listen to my voice."
"Maggie... please... I’m coming," Roman gasped.
"No, Roman. Don't run," Maggie said, looking directly into the camera. "You don't need to run anymore. Remember what we did in the trauma bay. The fire was eleven years ago. It has no power over you today. You survived it."
Roman stared at her face—the soft, solid curves, the warm brown eyes that had never looked at him with anything but absolute acceptance.
Beneath his fear, a sudden, powerful warmth began to grow. It was the same warmth he felt every time her bare hand touched his skin—a solid, unyielding barrier that the fire could not burn through.
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His breathing slowed. The burning sensation in his skin began to fade, replaced by a cold, sharp focus.
"I’m coming, Maggie," Roman said, his voice dropping into the quiet, terrifying register of the man who ruled Chicago. "And I’m bringing the rain."
