Chapter 5 - THE DEATH ROMAN NEVER QUESTIONED
Rosa's death had been ruled natural.
Aneurysm.
No suspicious injuries.
No evidence of poisoning.
Nothing in the medical record suggested murder.
Roman still ordered an independent review.
Sadi stopped him from spiraling.
“Evidence first.”
He looked at her.
“You're telling me to be patient?”
“Yes.”
“Cruel.”
The review found no reason to challenge the original cause of death.
Rosa had suffered a genuine aneurysm.
Roman sat in silence after hearing it.
Sadi expected relief.
Instead:
“I wanted someone to blame.”
She understood.
Blame felt active.
Grief felt helpless.
Roman continued:
“If Carlo killed her, I would know what to do.”
“That's exactly why you need to sit still.”
He almost smiled.
But Rosa's letter proved something else.
She knew Carlo and Roman's father were moving money through art.
She intended to expose them.
She died before doing so.
Afterward, the collection disappeared.
Roman's father destroyed the paper trail.
Carlo learned the system.
Then expanded it.
Sadi uncovered the key connection.
A set of catalog abbreviations corresponded not to art pieces but freight containers.
The Moretti family had been moving stolen art inside legitimate Rossi shipments for years.
Roman immediately froze the relevant companies.
His board revolted.
One executive said:
“You'll destroy the division.”
Roman answered:
“Then it was already destroyed.”
Sadi heard about the meeting afterward.
“You're becoming dramatic.”
“You've had an effect.”
“No refund.”
Federal investigators became involved.
Arthur Price negotiated cooperation.
Carlo disappeared.
Roman's security people wanted to find him first.
Roman refused.
“Law enforcement.”
His lieutenant looked astonished.
Sadi did too.
“What?”
Roman asked.
“That was very lawful.”
“I occasionally surprise.”
Then the case became personal again.
Someone broke into Sadi's apartment.
Nothing valuable taken.
No television.
No jewelry.
Only her laptop.
The one containing copied research notes.
Roman's response terrified everyone.
Not because he ordered violence.
Because he became completely calm.
He moved Sadi to a hotel under a different name.
She refused his mansion.
He accepted the refusal.
He arranged security through her attorney rather than directly.
He replaced nothing without asking.
At three in the morning, he sat across from her hotel-room table.
Sadi folded her arms.
“You're hovering.”
“Yes.”
“Stop.”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Roman corrected:
“I will sit farther away.”
“Better.”
He moved the chair back three feet.
She almost laughed.
Then he became serious.
“This is my fault.”
“No.”
“They targeted you because of me.”
“Because of the investigation.”
“Same thing.”
Sadi shook her head.
“No.”
She understood something Roman did not.
“Don't volunteer for everyone else's guilt.”
He looked at her.
She continued.
“Carlo chose this.”
“Arthur chose things.”
“Your father chose things.”
“You inherited consequences.”
“That does not make every consequence your moral property.”
Roman stared.
“Where did you learn that?”
Sadi smiled sadly.
“Years of blaming myself for not being thin enough to make people kinder.”
That silenced him.
Then Roman said:
“Your body was never the reason they were cruel.”
Sadi looked away.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She hated the question because sometimes she still didn't.
Roman continued:
“Derek didn't leave because you failed to become smaller.”
Her eyes returned to him.
“He left because he wanted a different life.”
Roman shrugged.
“He had the right.”
Then:
“He did not have the right to make you believe the difference meant deficiency.”
Sadi's throat tightened.
That was annoyingly wise for a mafia boss.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I don't sleep well.”
“Therapy.”
Roman stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Therapy.”
“No.”
“Then suffer efficiently.”
For the first time that night, he laughed.
Two days later, Roman secretly began seeing a therapist.
May you like
Sadi found out months later.
She never let him live it down.
