Chapter 13 - The Choice Roman Couldn’t Make for Her
Roman wanted Tessa nowhere near the apartment.
She agreed.
That surprised him.
“I thought we were going to argue.”
“I’m stubborn, not suicidal.”
Police surrounded the building.
The apartment was empty.
On Tessa’s kitchen table sat a single photograph.
Roman at fourteen beside his mother.
Tessa picked it up with gloved hands.
On the back:
ASK HIM WHO REALLY ORDERED THE BOMB.
Roman stared.
“He’s trying to split us.”
“Probably.”
“You believe me?”
“I believe evidence.”
Investigators reopened the bombing case.
Within hours they found the truth.
Salvatore had not ordered it.
DeLuca had.
The attorney had been manipulating everyone even then.
Salvatore had helped cover it up.
That made him guilty.
Just not of the exact crime Roman had believed.
Roman sat alone in his office after learning the truth.
Tessa found him there.
“My whole life,” he said, “I wanted the wrong man dead for the right reason.”
“You were fourteen.”
“I built myself around that hatred.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know who I am without it.”
Tessa sat beside him.
“Find out.”
He looked at her.
“With you?”
“No.”
That hurt him.
She touched his hand.
“Find out for yourself. Then come to me because you want me, not because you need me to hold the pieces together.”
Roman understood.
He nodded.
Three days later, Salvatore contacted Roman.
One final meeting.
The old freight yard.
Roman notified federal agents.
He did not hide it from Tessa.
He did not tell her to stay home.
He asked.
She chose to stay.
That mattered.
At the freight yard, Roman confronted his uncle alone beneath surveillance.
Salvatore wanted money and safe passage.
Roman offered neither.
“You’re choosing prison for me?”
“I’m choosing not to become you.”
Salvatore laughed.
“You think the girl changed you?”
“No.”
Roman looked directly at him.
“She made me notice I wanted to change.”
Agents moved in.
Salvatore reached for a weapon.
Roman did not.
The agents arrested him.
This time there was no escape.
That evening Roman returned to Tessa’s apartment.
She opened the door.
“Well?”
“It’s over.”
She studied him.
“Is it?”
Roman understood the question.
“The part involving him is.”
“And us?”
“That’s your choice.”
Tessa smiled.
“Half right.”
Roman frowned.
“Ours.”
His expression softened.
“Ours.”
She invited him inside.
On the table sat her old resignation letter.
Roman noticed it.
Tessa picked it up.
“I kept it.”
“Why?”
“To remember the night I finally chose myself.”
Roman nodded.
She tore it in half.
His eyebrows rose.
“That doesn’t mean I’m returning as your employee.”
“I didn’t dare hope.”
“I’m staying on the board.”
“Terrifying.”
“And I want my own office.”
“Done.”
“Different floor.”
Roman sighed.
“Cruel.”
“And Roman?”
“Yes?”
“I’m willing to try.”
He went completely still.
“Tessa—”
“Try. Not promise forever tonight. Not sign anything. Not let you buy a cathedral.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were thinking about it.”
He smiled.
“Possibly.”
She kissed him.
Later, while Roman slept on her couch because she had refused to let him assume anything else, Tessa opened her email.
One unread message.
From Anthony DeLuca’s attorney.
SUBJECT: FINAL INSTRUCTION — VITTORIO CASTELL ESTATE.
Tessa opened it.
A scanned document appeared.
At the bottom was a handwritten note from Vittorio.
Tessa read the first sentence.
Then she looked toward Roman.
May you like
Because Vittorio had left one final inheritance.
And it could only be claimed on Roman’s wedding day.
