What Luca Said Belonged to the Family
Chapter 06 - What Luca Said Belonged to the Family
Roman did not tell Luca where they were.
He did not mention Warehouse Twelve.
He did not mention Gabriel Shaw.
He simply asked:
“What does Teresa Moretti have?”
Luca paused.
Sadi watched Roman’s face.
Whatever history existed between uncle and nephew, they knew each other’s silences well.
“Carlo kept company property,” Luca said.
“What property?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Internal.”
Roman looked at Sadi.
She understood.
He was giving Luca chances to lie.
Luca used all of them.
“Arthur says the girl found something.”
“The girl has a name.”
Another pause.
“Sadi.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“You know it.”
“I know everyone connected to that warehouse.”
“Apparently not Gabriel Shaw.”
Silence.
Roman had thrown the name deliberately.
Luca’s breathing changed.
Very slightly.
Enough.
“Gabriel is dead.”
“No.”
A longer silence.
“Where are you?”
Roman ended the call.
Sadi stared.
“That was subtle.”
“I wasn’t aiming for subtle.”
Gabriel folded his arms.
“Luca will move now.”
“Move where?” Sadi asked.
“Your mother.”
Roman immediately called his security team.
Sadi lifted a hand.
“Ask me.”
He stopped.
“What?”
“You do not get to move my mother around like luggage.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he breathed once.
“May I arrange secure transportation for Teresa to a hospital-affiliated residence until we know who Luca has watching her?”
Better.
Sadi hated that “better” felt attractive.
“Yes.”
Roman made the call.
Gabriel watched them with faint amusement.
Sadi noticed.
“Do not.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“No.”
“You have the face.”
“What face?”
“The older man who thinks he understands two younger people before they understand themselves.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Carlo used to say the same thing.”
That stopped her.
“About you?”
“About everyone over forty.”
Roman looked offended.
“I’m forty-two.”
“Exactly.”
Sadi almost smiled.
Then Roman opened another binder.
The moment ended.
They worked until noon.
No guns.
No threats.
Just paper.
That surprised Sadi more than violence would have.
The true machinery of organized wrongdoing, she was learning, looked painfully boring.
Invoices.
Waivers.
Inspection codes.
Vendor names.
Luca Moretti’s initials appeared beside at least fourteen payments to municipal inspectors.
Vittorio’s appeared beside environmental settlement reserves that were never funded.
Arthur Bellini’s signature appeared on false waste certifications.
Carlo had documented all of it.
Then there was a fourth name.
RM.
Sadi’s stomach tightened.
Roman saw it.
“So did I.”
She looked at him.
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
The entry was dated ten years earlier.
One year before the fire.
Authorization for disposal vendor renewal.
Bellini Chemical.
Roman read the page twice.
“I signed this.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Sadi watched him.
“You approved the company that was dumping.”
Roman’s expression stayed controlled.
“I approved a vendor renewal.”
“Without reviewing environmental compliance?”
“My operations director reviewed it.”
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
Roman looked at her.
“You think I knew.”
“I think men who inherit power often learn the difference between knowing and not asking.”
The sentence landed.
Gabriel looked away.
Roman did not.
“You’re right.”
Sadi’s anger sharpened.
“I told you to stop agreeing.”
“I signed it.”
“That does not mean you knew about dumping.”
“No.”
“Then defend yourself.”
Roman stood.
“I was thirty-one. I was running three companies for my father. Luca brought me a vendor package. I signed it.”
“Did you read it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I trusted him.”
“There it is.”
He stared.
“The same reason you nearly signed Arthur’s contract.”
“Yes.”
The room became quiet.
Roman looked at the silver fountain pen in his pocket.
Arthur’s pen.
He had taken it.
Perhaps as evidence.
Perhaps as a reminder.
“I have spent half my life believing control meant nobody could surprise me.”
Sadi looked at the binders.
“Yet people keep putting paper in front of you.”
A faint, humorless smile.
“Yes.”
Gabriel closed a binder.
“Luca counted on that.”
Roman’s phone buzzed.
A message from his security chief.
TERESA SECURE. POLICE ALSO PRESENT. SHE REQUESTED SADI.
Sadi exhaled.
Then another message.
UNKNOWN WOMAN ARRIVED CLAIMING TO BE FAMILY FRIEND.
Roman frowned.
Sadi’s phone rang.
Her mother.
“Mom?”
Teresa sounded tired.
“There is a woman here.”
“Who?”
“She says her name is Bianca.”
Roman stood.
“My mother.”
Sadi stared.
The woman who had lived in France for nine years.
The woman Carlo said had the original disposal permits.
“Why is she here?”
Teresa answered.
“Because I called her.”
Sadi stopped.
“You what?”
Teresa began crying.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“For what?”
“I lied about one more thing.”
Sadi closed her eyes.
Of course.
Teresa continued.
“Bianca and I have spoken every year since Carlo died.”
Roman’s face went still.
His own mother had been speaking to Sadi’s mother for nine years.
Neither child had known.
Then Teresa whispered:
“She says she came back because Luca knows you opened the locker.”
May you like
Sadi looked at Roman.
“And she says if Roman wants the truth, he has to hear what his father did to protect him.”
