Chapter 2 - The Name Trevor Should Have Known
Roman watched the frozen image for three seconds.
To everyone else, his face remained unreadable.
Sadi knew better.
His thumb stopped moving against her hand.
That was the sign.
Roman became most dangerous when he became completely still.
“Who is he?” Sadi whispered.
Roman locked the tablet.
“Later.”
“Roman.”
“Not here.”
Trevor had recovered enough to speak.
“This is ridiculous.”
Nobody answered him.
Trevor looked between Roman and Arthur.
The arrogance that had filled him minutes earlier had become nervous irritation.
“Whatever happened between Sadi and me is personal.”
Roman slowly turned.
“Nothing between you and my wife is personal anymore.”
Trevor swallowed.
Chloe stepped farther away from him.
Sadi almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
The boutique manager hurried toward them.
“Mr. Moretti, we're terribly sorry. Security has been contacted.”
Trevor blinked.
The manager knew Roman.
Of course he did.
Roman's companies owned commercial properties throughout the city. His name appeared on buildings Trevor probably passed every morning without realizing who controlled them.
But Roman's real reputation existed somewhere less visible.
He was the man powerful people called when ordinary solutions stopped working.
Sadi had heard the stories.
Most were exaggerated.
Some weren't.
She had married the man, not the mythology surrounding him.
That distinction mattered to her.
Trevor suddenly looked at Sadi differently.
Not with respect.
With calculation.
She hated that more.
“You married him?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Why does that matter?”
“You never told me.”
Sadi stared.
“You left three years ago.”
“I know, but—”
“You stole my rent money.”
Chloe turned sharply.
Trevor's face reddened.
“That isn't what happened.”
“You took six hundred dollars from the kitchen jar.”
“We were together. It was technically shared money.”
“I earned it.”
Trevor lowered his voice.
“Do we really need to discuss this?”
Sadi laughed softly.
“You were happy discussing my past thirty seconds ago.”
Roman looked at her.
He didn't interrupt.
That was another reason she loved him.
Roman protected her fiercely, but he never stole her voice.
Trevor glanced toward the watching shoppers.
“This is getting blown completely out of proportion.”
“You kicked her,” Roman said.
Trevor's eyes shifted.
“I accidentally bumped her.”
“We have video.”
Trevor went silent.
Roman took one step toward him.
Trevor automatically stepped backward.
Roman's voice remained calm.
“You're going to leave.”
Trevor nodded quickly.
“Fine.”
“You're going to stay away from Sadi.”
“Obviously.”
“You're going to communicate with her only through an attorney if communication becomes legally necessary.”
Trevor frowned.
“Legally necessary?”
Roman looked toward the manager.
“The police will decide whether what happened requires further action. Sadi will decide whether she wants to pursue it.”
Trevor's face changed.
“You're calling the police?”
Sadi answered.
“Yes.”
Trevor stared at her.
“Sadi, seriously?”
“Yes, Trevor.”
“Over one stupid mistake?”
“No. Over something you deliberately did.”
“You're going to destroy my career.”
Sadi felt the strange weight of those words.
Once, Trevor had threatened to ruin her life.
Now he expected her to protect his.
“I didn't make your decision for you,” she said.
Trevor looked stunned.
“You know what this could do to me.”
“I knew what six hundred dollars meant when you took it.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Chloe removed the engagement ring from her finger.
Everyone noticed.
Trevor looked at her.
“What are you doing?”
“I need space.”
“Chloe.”
She placed the ring inside his palm.
“Not here.”
“You're seriously taking her side?”
Chloe's expression hardened.
“I just watched you kick a woman to the floor and lie about it.”
Trevor's face turned crimson.
“This is unbelievable.”
“No,” Sadi said quietly. “It's actually very believable.”
Mall security arrived.
Two uniformed officers followed minutes later.
Trevor was escorted toward a private office to give his statement.
He turned once.
For a moment, Sadi saw the old Trevor.
Not arrogant.
Afraid.
Then he disappeared.
Roman immediately turned toward her.
“We're leaving.”
Sadi knew that tone.
“Because of the man upstairs?”
Roman didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Arthur handed the tablet to Daniel.
“We lost him after he entered the east stairwell.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“How?”
“Camera outage.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
Sadi folded her arms.
“Can someone tell me what's happening?”
Roman looked around the crowded boutique.
“Car.”
Ten minutes later, Sadi sat beside Roman inside a black armored sedan.
The Galleria disappeared behind them.
Arthur occupied the front passenger seat while Daniel drove.
Sadi waited.
Roman looked out the window.
“Roman.”
“I heard you.”
“Then answer me.”
He exhaled.
“The man upstairs is Vincent Caruso.”
“Should I know that name?”
“No.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
Sadi waited.
Roman finally turned.
“Vincent worked for my father.”
That surprised her.
Roman rarely spoke about his father.
Alessandro Moretti had died eight years earlier.
Officially, heart failure.
Unofficially, Sadi had always suspected the story was more complicated.
“What did he do?”
“Problems.”
“What kind?”
“The kind I don't want near you.”
“Roman.”
His expression softened.
“Sadi.”
“Don't protect me by keeping me ignorant.”
That landed.
Roman looked away.
Then he nodded.
“My father trusted Vincent with financial records, private negotiations, everything. Shortly before my father died, several accounts disappeared. So did Vincent.”
“You think he stole from your family?”
“I know he did.”
“Then why come back now?”
“That is what concerns me.”
The sedan turned onto a quieter street.
Roman's phone vibrated.
Arthur answered his own phone at almost the same moment.
Both men looked down.
Arthur swore under his breath.
“What?”
Roman asked.
Arthur turned the screen.
A photograph had been sent from an unknown number.
Sadi recognized herself immediately.
It showed her entering the Galleria approximately forty minutes earlier.
The photograph had been taken from across the street.
Another message appeared.
Roman read it.
His expression darkened.
“What does it say?” Sadi asked.
He hesitated.
She reached for the phone.
Roman allowed her to take it.
The message contained seven words.
ASK YOUR WIFE WHAT TREVOR REALLY STOLE.
Sadi stared.
Trevor stole six hundred dollars.
Didn't he?
She searched her memory.
The apartment.
The kitchen.
The empty jar.
The sticky note.
Something else.
Her pulse quickened.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
Sadi closed her eyes.
Three years earlier.
The night Trevor left.
She had come home after midnight.
The apartment had been unusually clean.
The kitchen drawer had been open.
Not the money drawer.
The drawer beneath it.
Inside that drawer, Sadi had kept an old envelope her mother gave her shortly before dying.
She had been too grief-stricken to examine it carefully.
She remembered photographs.
A key.
And a handwritten letter.
After Trevor left, the envelope was gone.
Sadi had assumed she misplaced it during the eviction that followed.
“Oh God.”
Roman leaned toward her.
“What?”
“Trevor didn't just take money.”
“What else?”
Sadi looked at him.
“My mother's envelope.”
Roman's expression sharpened.
“What was inside?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“You never opened it?”
“I did once. There was a small brass key, some photographs, and a letter. I couldn't read the whole thing. Mom had just died.”
“What photographs?”
“Old ones.”
“Of who?”
Sadi struggled to remember.
“One was my mother.”
“And?”
“A man.”
Roman went very still.
“What man?”
“I don't know.”
“Describe him.”
“Dark hair. Maybe forty. He was standing beside her.”
Roman pulled out his phone.
He opened an old photograph.
“Was it him?”
Sadi stared.
The man standing beside Roman's father was younger in the picture.
But she knew the face.
She had seen it before.
Inside her mother's envelope.
Sadi slowly lifted her eyes.
“That's him.”
Roman's expression changed.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Silence filled the sedan.
Even Arthur turned around.
Sadi's heart hammered.
“Why would my mother have a photograph of your father?”
Roman didn't answer.
Because another message appeared.
This time there was an attachment.
A scanned document.
Roman opened it.
Sadi saw her mother's name.
ELENA BENNETT.
Below it was Alessandro Moretti's signature.
And beneath both names was a line that made Sadi forget how to breathe.
BENEFICIARY: SADIE BENNETT.
Her maiden name.
Roman read the final paragraph.
Then he looked at her.
“My father left something to you.”
Sadi stared at him.
“What?”
Roman's answer was barely above a whisper.
May you like
“Something worth killing for.”
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