The Part of Roman That Was Not His Father’s Fault
Chapter 14 - The Part of Roman That Was Not His Father’s Fault
The man’s name was Thomas Weller.
Sadi read his statement alone.
Maintenance supervisor.
Age fifty-eight now.
Forty-six when he raised concerns about chemical odors in a storage facility owned by Moretti Logistics.
Roman had been running operations.
Thomas refused to sign a safety clearance.
Roman told security chief Dominic Vale to “make sure Weller understands what happens when he damages the company with rumors.”
Three nights later, Thomas was pulled from his car.
Two ribs broken.
Hand fractured.
No arrest.
Thomas resigned.
Roman never contacted him.
Sadi closed the file.
Roman waited across the federal interview room.
No suit jacket today.
Black shirt sleeves rolled once.
He looked less powerful.
Good.
“Why?”
He did not pretend not to understand.
“My father was sick.”
“That is not why.”
“No.”
“My uncle was telling me employees were trying to create claims before a sale.”
“Still not why.”
Roman looked down.
“I believed fear worked.”
There it was.
“Did it?”
“Yes.”
Sadi hated the answer.
“Thomas left.”
“Yes.”
“So it worked.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“That is why it took me too long to understand what I had become.”
Sadi folded the statement.
“When did you learn he was beaten?”
“The next morning.”
“Did you order Dominic to do that?”
“No.”
“Did you fire him?”
“No.”
“Report him?”
“No.”
“Pay Thomas’s medical bills?”
“Anonymously.”
She laughed sharply.
“Of course.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“I know.”
“No. Stop.”
Her voice rose.
“Money after violence is not accountability.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying it like you already passed the exam.”
Silence.
Mara watched from the far end of the room but did not interrupt.
Sadi continued.
“You were thirty.”
“Thirty-one.”
“Old enough.”
“Yes.”
“You were not a frightened child under your father.”
“No.”
“You were powerful.”
“Yes.”
“And you used that power against a worker who was right.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Sadi stood.
“I need air.”
Outside, snow had begun.
Chicago in winter had no sympathy.
Sadi stood on the federal building steps.
Roman came out several minutes later.
She did not ask him to leave.
She also did not move closer.
“I am going to testify,” he said.
“To what?”
“Everything.”
“Do not do it for me.”
“I’m not.”
She looked at him.
Roman continued.
“Thomas’s case. Other intimidation I knew about. Company payoffs.”
“You could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
Good.
She was glad he said yes.
Bravery without fear had always sounded like advertising.
Roman put his hands in his coat pockets.
“I liked that you looked at me differently.”
Sadi’s chest tightened.
“Before.”
“Yes.”
“Before you told me.”
“Yes.”
“I liked it too.”
He looked at her.
She continued.
“That is not a reason for me to keep doing it.”
“No.”
“And if you confess because you think honesty buys a relationship with me—”
“It doesn’t.”
Sadi nodded.
“Good.”
Roman looked toward the street.
“My father used to say every debt has a price.”
“My stepfather turned ninety-three million dollars into a lesson about why hidden money fails people.”
Roman almost smiled.
“Your family is exhausting.”
“So is yours.”
They stood in the snow.
No touch.
No kiss.
That mattered.
Mara came outside.
“Roman.”
He turned.
“Luca’s board called an emergency meeting.”
“When?”
“Now.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“What for?”
“To remove you as CEO.”
Sadi looked at him.
“Can they?”
“Yes.”
“Do you care?”
Roman hesitated.
That answer mattered more than the legal one.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if Luca controls Moretti Holdings before the trust administrator appointment is recorded, he can challenge my eligibility.”
“Evelyn already agreed.”
“Not filed.”
Mara swore quietly.
Roman called counsel.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
“Who is your corporate counsel?” Sadi asked.
“James Calder.”
“Where is he?”
Roman looked at his phone.
“Board meeting.”
Sadi understood.
“Luca got your lawyer.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Apparently.”
Sadi looked at the clock.
“How long until vote?”
“Forty minutes.”
“How many directors?”
“Nine.”
“Your votes?”
“Four.”
“Luca?”
“Four.”
“The ninth?”
“My mother.”
Everyone looked at Bianca, who had just stepped from a car at the curb.
She walked toward them.
Roman stared.
“You’re on the board?”
Bianca removed her sunglasses despite the snow.
“Your father never accepted my resignation.”
Roman almost laughed.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Whose side are you on?”
Bianca looked at her son.
“The side that stops confusing family with immunity.”
Then she handed Sadi a folder.
“Read the bylaws.”
Sadi frowned.
“I am not your lawyer.”
“No.”
Bianca smiled.
“But you are the woman who notices the line above the signature.”
Sadi opened the folder.
Twenty-eight minutes later, she found it.
Article Nine, Section Four.
Any director subject to an undisclosed financial conflict concerning a pending corporate liability could not vote on removal related to that liability.
Luca owned, through a hidden trust, twelve percent of Bellini Disposal.
Roman stared.
“Where did this come from?”
Bianca said, “Your father’s divorce file.”
Sadi almost laughed.
Families really did keep the best evidence in the strangest places.
Roman looked at her.
“You just saved my job.”
“No.”
She closed the bylaws.
“I found the clause.”
This time he smiled.
Then Mara’s phone rang.
Her face changed.
“What?”
“Federal agents executed the Bellini server warrant.”
Sadi’s pulse jumped.
“And?”
“They found Harlan’s original letter.”
Good.
“Anything else?”
Mara looked at Roman.
“A recording.”
“Of who?”
“Luca and Arthur.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Roman’s smile vanished.
May you like
Mara’s voice dropped.
“They are discussing Harlan’s death.”
