The Plus-Size Baker Told the Feared Crime Boss to Stop Calling Her His Girlfriend, and His Next Move Left His Entire Family Speechless.

Susan told the story in pieces, as if the truth were a glass she could only set down one fragment at a time. Daniel Bennett had been the Duke family’s accountant, but he had also been Susan’s closest friend. Together they discovered that Roman’s father, Dominic, was funneling money through legitimate businesses and using the resulting secrets to blackmail judges, contractors, and council members.

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Claire asked.

Susan looked at Roman. “Because the police were on the list.”

“All of them?”

“Enough of them.”

Daniel had built a duplicate record and planned to deliver it to a federal investigator outside Pittsburgh. Dominic discovered the plan. Before he could reach Daniel, Susan arranged for Daniel to vanish. She told Claire’s mother that he had abandoned them because she believed grief would be safer than the truth.

“You let me think he chose to leave,” Claire said.

“I thought you would hate him instead of looking for him.”

“That was your decision to make?”

Susan lowered her eyes. “No.”

Roman’s voice was flat. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Claire turned on him. “You believe her?”

“I believe my mother knows more than she has said.”

Susan’s mouth tightened. “There is a church archive in Lawrenceville. Daniel left instructions there. He trusted the priest because Dominic had no reason to suspect him.”

“Then we go there,” Claire said.

Roman shook his head. “You stay here.”

“No.”

“Claire.”

“My father left a message for me. I am going.”

Their argument ended when a stone crashed through the study window. A second note was attached with fishing line. Mateo retrieved it while Ellis moved Lily to the secure room.

The note read: SHE IS NOT YOUR ALLY.

The word she had been written over a torn photograph of Susan.

Roman studied the picture. “Someone wants us divided.”

“Someone may know exactly how to divide us,” Claire said.

The church archive was beneath a small brick parish near the Allegheny River. The priest, Father Callahan, recognized Daniel’s name and produced a metal box. Inside were a cassette tape, a bank deposit slip, and a recipe notebook.

Claire took the notebook with shaking hands. It was hers. She remembered the red cover, the flour stains, and her father’s handwriting in the margins. Her mother had said it was lost during the move after he disappeared.

“He hid a key inside,” Father Callahan said. “He told me his daughter would understand the language.”

Claire opened the book. The recipes looked ordinary, but the measurements were wrong. Three cups of flour where there should have been two. Seven minutes instead of twelve. Repeated numbers hidden among instructions for pie crust and bread.

“A code,” she murmured.

Roman leaned over her shoulder, close enough that she felt the warmth of him. “Can you read it?”

“Not yet.”

The cassette contained Daniel’s voice. He named a bank locker and warned that the duplicate ledger was not a list of crimes. It was a map of who had helped Dominic, who had resisted him, and who had been trapped by him.

Then Daniel said, “The person who can unlock the map is not Roman.”

Roman’s hand tightened around the table edge.

“It is Susan,” Daniel continued. “She knows the original cipher. But if Susan is dead, look for the woman who bakes with orange zest.”

Claire stared at the notebook. Her father had taught her every recipe. Orange zest had been his signature.

The archive doors slammed shut.

Father Callahan went pale. “I locked those.”

A chemical smell drifted through the hallway. Smoke began to curl beneath the door.

Roman grabbed Claire’s hand. “Back exit.”

She pulled free. “The box.”

“Leave it.”

Claire seized the notebook and bank slip. Roman dragged Father Callahan toward the kitchen while Claire kicked open a narrow service door. They escaped into cold rain as smoke filled the archive.

Across the street, a woman in a red scarf watched them from beneath an umbrella.

Claire recognized her from the bakery.

The woman lifted her phone, took a picture, and disappeared into the traffic.

Roman looked at Claire’s bare hand. “You should have stayed behind me.”

“You should stop assuming I’m behind anyone.”

His gaze dropped to her fingers, then returned to her face. “I am beginning to understand that.”