Roman’s Name Was in the Trust for a Reason
Chapter 13 - Roman’s Name Was in the Trust for a Reason
Roman hated being trustee.
Sadi discovered this within six minutes.
“I don’t want it.”
Mara folded her arms.
“The dead accountant did not ask.”
“I am aware.”
Bianca studied the trust language.
“Carlo trusted you.”
Roman laughed without humor.
“He barely knew me.”
Sadi looked at the witness date.
Roman had been thirty-three.
“Maybe that was the point.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Carlo knew your father. Luca. Arthur.”
She shrugged.
“Maybe the man he trusted most was the one who had not had time to disappoint him.”
Roman stared.
“That is not comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
The trust gave Roman temporary authority, but every distribution required approval from an independent environmental claims administrator.
That person had never been appointed.
Harlan’s death triggered a ninety-day deadline.
If no administrator was appointed, authority shifted to Luca.
Sadi checked the date.
“Eighty-nine days left.”
Mara shook her head.
“Eighty-eight. Harlan died yesterday morning.”
Roman looked at Sadi.
“You’re doing it.”
“No.”
“You identified the clause.”
“I am not a lawyer.”
“Administrator does not have to be.”
“Still no.”
“You want the money used correctly.”
“Yes.”
“You understand the records.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Especially yes.”
“Perfect.”
She stared.
Mara smiled.
“He has a point.”
“I dislike all of you.”
Sadi went to see Teresa before answering.
Her mother was sitting beside a window doing a crossword in pen.
Carlo had taught her that.
Never pencil.
“Commit,” he used to say.
Sadi sat.
“There’s money.”
Teresa looked up.
“How much?”
“Ninety-three million.”
The pen fell.
Sadi explained.
Not all at once.
Slowly.
The reserve.
The trust.
Carlo’s transfer.
Roman as successor.
The administrator.
Teresa cried.
Then became angry.
Then cried because she was angry.
“He knew we needed help.”
“Yes.”
“He hid ninety million dollars.”
“It was forty then.”
“That does not improve it.”
“No.”
Teresa stood and walked toward the window.
“I loved that man.”
Sadi waited.
“I still love him.”
“I know.”
“And right now I want to hit him.”
Sadi smiled faintly.
“I know.”
Teresa turned.
“Do not make him a saint.”
“I won’t.”
“People will.”
“I know.”
“He was scared. He was trying to protect something good.”
“Yes.”
“And he still let me bury him thinking we had nothing.”
Sadi’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Teresa wiped her face.
“What do you want to do?”
“Appoint an independent administrator.”
“You?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I am too close.”
Teresa smiled faintly.
“You learned something in law school.”
“Mostly debt.”
They laughed.
Then Teresa became serious.
“Who?”
Sadi had someone in mind.
Evelyn Price.
The dean.
Sixty-one.
Corporate law background.
No ties to Moretti Holdings.
Known to be terrifying.
Teresa nodded.
“Carlo would have hated her.”
“Then she’s perfect.”
Dean Price said no.
Then she read the trust.
Then she said no again.
Then she called Sadi at eleven that night.
“I have conditions.”
Sadi smiled.
“Of course.”
“Full forensic audit.”
“Yes.”
“No Moretti family authority over claims.”
“Yes.”
“Roman signs a conflict waiver.”
“Yes.”
“Independent medical review panel.”
“Yes.”
“And you reenroll.”
Sadi stopped.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“That has nothing to do with the trust.”
“It does to me.”
“Evelyn.”
“You have one year of law school left.”
“I have a mother on dialysis.”
“Your mother told me to say this.”
Sadi closed her eyes.
Traitors.
“You cannot condition fiduciary service on my education.”
“Correct.”
“Then—”
“I am not. I am telling you I will take the job whether you reenroll or not.”
A pause.
“But you should finish.”
Sadi looked through Teresa’s apartment window at the city.
“I don’t know if I can go back.”
“You can.”
“That is not what I said.”
Evelyn softened.
“No.”
Sadi waited.
“Then be afraid and decide anyway.”
That sounded like her mother.
Maybe all women over sixty shared a secret book of annoying truths.
The next morning, Roman signed every conflict waiver without argument.
Sadi noticed.
Then Mara placed another file in front of him.
“This is separate.”
Roman read the title.
His face changed.
Sadi looked.
FEDERAL INTERVIEW REQUEST.
Re: South River Industrial intimidation incidents, 2011-2014.
Roman closed the file.
“What incidents?”
Mara looked at him.
“You tell me.”
Sadi felt the air change.
Roman’s face became the controlled mask from Belladonna.
Mara continued.
“Three former employees say Moretti security threatened them after they raised environmental concerns.”
Roman said nothing.
Sadi looked at him.
“Roman.”
He did not answer.
That told her enough.
Mara’s voice became quiet.
“Were you involved?”
Roman looked at Sadi.
For the first time since she met him, he seemed afraid of her answer before she had given one.
“Yes.”
The word entered the room softly.
Sadi’s stomach dropped.
“How?”
Roman stared at the interview request.
“I told security to scare one of them.”
Teresa’s living room became silent.
Sadi felt the romantic tension she had refused to name collapse into something colder.
“What happened to him?”
Roman’s voice was low.
“He was beaten.”
Sadi stepped back.
“You ordered it.”
“No.”
“Your men did it.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew afterward.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
Roman looked at her.
“Nothing.”
May you like
Sadi understood then that inherited guilt was not the only thing Roman Moretti carried.
Some of it was entirely his own.
