Chapter 6 - A Sister's Desperation
The investigation lasted four months.
Hartwell’s board appointed independent management and referred the suspicious payments to the appropriate authorities.
My father resigned.
The company recovered part of the money through negotiated settlements, insurance claims, and the sale of assets that had nothing to do with my mother’s original waterfront properties.
With the court’s approval, an independent trustee replaced my father until I reached thirty.
Damian’s investment firm lost its advisory contract and became the subject of a separate investigation.
Nothing was resolved overnight.
There were legal fees.
Angry investors.
Employees frightened about their jobs.
And sleepless nights when I wondered whether saving my mother’s company would cost more than I could bear.
Roman never pretended the process would be easy.
He came home late, sat beside me at the kitchen island, and listened while I told him what had gone wrong.
Sometimes he gave advice.
Sometimes he made coffee.
Sometimes he simply stayed.
One evening, I found him in the kitchen trying to make pancakes.
There was flour on his black T-shirt.
A bowl of batter sat beside the stove.
Murphy was watching from the doorway with deep suspicion.
I folded my arms.
“What happened here?”
Roman looked at the burned pancake in the skillet.
“A minor setback.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Where?”
He considered the question.
“Not in a kitchen.”
I laughed so hard I had to lean against the counter.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Roman.”
His expression softened.
“It’s nice hearing you laugh.”
I felt warmth rise into my cheeks.
He turned off the stove.
“Arya, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Are you happy here?”
The question surprised me.
I looked around the kitchen.
At the dog asleep beside the refrigerator.
At the crooked stack of mail addressed to Mrs. Arya Moretti.
At the man who had given me room to breathe when everyone else had demanded more than I could give.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Roman nodded.
“Good.”
I stepped closer.
“But there’s something missing.”
He became serious.
“What?”
I touched his cheek.
“You haven’t kissed your wife properly.”
His eyes darkened.
“Are you asking me to?”
“Yes.”
He cupped my face with both hands.
And kissed me.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As though he had all the time in the world.
There was no audience.
No expensive wedding gown.
No man waiting to interrupt.
Just the quiet certainty of being wanted without being owned.
When we finally separated, Roman rested his forehead against mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day we met.”
I smiled.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because you were still trying to survive the man before me.”
Something tightened in my throat.
“And now?”
“Now I hope you’ll let me love you.”
I kissed him again.
That was my answer.
I might have believed our troubles were finally behind us if Vivian hadn’t appeared at my office two weeks later.
She looked terrible.
Her once-perfect blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Her eyes were swollen, and she wore a loose gray sweater.
She sat across from me without asking permission.
“I’m pregnant.”
I stared at her.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
“Is it Damian’s?” I asked.
She nodded.
“He says he doesn’t want the baby.”
I felt a cold, familiar anger.
“Has he threatened you?”
“He says I’m ruining his life. He wants me to end the pregnancy.”
“Vivian, that’s your decision. Not his.”
Her eyes filled.
“I thought he’d marry me.”
I looked at my sister.
For the first time in years, she didn’t seem beautiful or superior.
She seemed frightened.
And very young.
“He doesn’t love me anymore,” she whispered.
I wanted to tell her she’d received exactly what she deserved.
I wanted to remind her of the chapel, the white dress, the nine months of lies.
But I couldn’t forget that she was carrying a child who had done nothing wrong.
“I can help you find an independent attorney,” I said. “And a doctor who will explain your options without pressuring you.”
She stared.
“That’s it?”
“What else do you want?”
Her expression changed.
“I want you to talk to Damian.”
I sighed.
“Vivian—”
“He’ll listen to you. He still loves you.”
“That doesn’t mean I can make him love you.”
She stood abruptly.
“You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’re better than me.”
I felt my patience slipping.
“I offered to help you.”
“No. You offered to help me survive without him.”
Her voice rose.
“You got the company. You got the house. You married a man richer and more powerful than Damian. And now you’re going to have some perfect life while I’m left with nothing!”
I stood.
“Vivian, this was never a competition.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you’ve won!”
I looked at her for a long time.
Then I spoke quietly.
“If I disappeared tomorrow, Damian still wouldn’t become the man you want him to be.”
She recoiled.
For a moment, I thought she might slap me.
Instead, she whispered, “I hate you.”
Then she walked out.
May you like
I watched the door close.
I didn’t know that those would be the last words my sister spoke to me before everything turned dangerous.
