Chapter 3 - The Federal SafehouseBy 4:00 AM, the private jet landed smoothly at a secure military airfield outside Chicago.
A black sedan escorted us directly to a high-security federal safehouse nestled inside a quiet, gated estate in Lake Forest, Illinois.
The house was warm, modern, and surrounded by twenty-four-hour federal protection detail. Inside the master suite, a high-end nursery had already been prepared under Julian’s orders—equipped with climate-controlled humidifiers, organic cotton bedding, and round-the-clock pediatric nursing care.
Julian Vance stood in the sunlit kitchen, holding two warm cups of coffee as I walked down the hall wearing a comfortable cream wool sweater, carrying a sleeping Sophie in my arms.
"She slept through the entire flight," I murmured softly, setting Sophie gently into her crib near the window before stepping into the kitchen.
Julian handed me a warm cup, his gray eyes filled with deep, protective respect. "Roman has deployed sixty men across Milwaukee, Aaron. He’s burning through his contacts, threatening city officials, trying to find out which runway you took off from."
A small, cold smile touched my lips. "Let him search."
Julian set a leather binder on the marble island. "The secondary financial logs you provided are devastating, Aaron. They prove Roman used Moretti Logistics to launder thirty million dollars through offshore holding companies in Panama—companies registered under Laya Crane's legal name."
"Laya wanted his wealth," I said smoothly, taking a slow sip of my coffee. "She convinced him to put the assets in her name so I couldn't touch them during a standard divorce. She didn't realize those assets carried federal tax liabilities."
"Under federal racketeering laws," Julian explained with a razor-sharp smile, "Laya Crane is now designated as a co-conspirator in a major federal indictment. The IRS Criminal Investigation Division unsealed an emergency asset freeze on all Moretti holdings thirty minutes ago."
I looked out the window at the morning sun breaking over the trees of Lake Forest, feeling a profound, weightless freedom wash over my soul.
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Roman had thought I was weak because I had stayed quiet while recovering from childbirth. He had forgotten that my father was the man who taught him how to run his empire—and that I inherited my father's mind.
"Serve him the papers, Julian," I commanded softly.
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