Chapter 3 - Everyone Had a Version of Sadi
By eight the next morning, Sadi’s photograph was everywhere.
Not literally everywhere.
But enough places to make her want to throw her phone into Lake Michigan.
A gossip account had posted a blurry picture from the rehearsal dinner with the headline:
CHICAGO’S MOST PRIVATE POWER BROKER ARRIVES WITH MYSTERY WOMAN.
Another called her “an unidentified brunette.”
A third had already identified her as an employee in Roman’s household.
That one hurt.
Not because she was ashamed of being a maid.
She wasn’t.
Work had paid her rent when no one else offered help.
Work had taught her independence.
What hurt was the tone.
As if a woman who cleaned a rich man’s house could only be beside him because something improper had occurred.
By breakfast, strangers had invented four versions of her.
A gold digger.
A secret mistress.
A criminal accomplice.
A desperate employee.
No one guessed the truth.
Sadi herself did not know the truth anymore.
She found Roman in the library.
Matteo stood beside the windows with a tablet.
Three other men occupied the room.
They all fell silent when Sadi entered.
She stopped.
“I hate that.”
Roman looked up from a stack of papers.
“What?”
“When everyone stops talking because I walked in.”
Roman dismissed the others with a glance.
Only Matteo remained.
Sadi held up her phone.
“I want this gone.”
Roman’s expression darkened at the headline.
“I can have the account contacted.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I don’t want you frightening people into deleting things.”
“I was going to use an attorney.”
“Oh.”
Matteo coughed.
Sadi suspected it was laughter.
She ignored him.
“I can deal with gossip.”
Roman closed the file in front of him.
“Caruso is not gossip.”
“What did you find?”
Matteo answered.
“The photograph sent last night came from someone inside the restaurant.”
Sadi’s skin prickled.
“A guest?”
“Possibly staff.”
“Do you know why Caruso knew me before last night?”
Matteo exchanged a glance with Roman.
Sadi pointed between them.
“No. Absolutely not. I spent my childhood being the last person told things in my own family. You are not starting that here.”
Roman leaned back.
“Your father’s company has been in financial trouble for eighteen months.”
Sadi stared.
“What?”
“His construction business lost two municipal contracts,” Matteo said. “Then a lender called Westbridge Capital began buying portions of the debt.”
Sadi knew the name.
Her father had mentioned Westbridge once at Christmas.
He had called them investors.
Roman’s voice was quiet.
“Westbridge is controlled by Dominic Caruso.”
Sadi sat down without deciding to.
“My father borrowed money from him?”
“It appears so.”
“No. Dad hates debt.”
“People hate many things until they are afraid.”
Sadi looked at Roman.
“What does that have to do with me?”
He slid a document across the desk.
Sadi read the first page.
Then the second.
Her confusion became disbelief.
It was a personal guarantee attached to a line of credit.
The name at the bottom was hers.
SADI HADDAD.
Her address.
Her social-security information partially redacted.
A signature that looked like hers from a distance.
It was not hers.
Her stomach dropped.
“I never signed this.”
Roman’s eyes did not leave her face.
“I know.”
“How?”
“You sign payroll documents at the house.”
Matteo added gently, “We compared them.”
Sadi looked again.
The false signature used a dramatic loop on the H.
She never looped the H.
Her mother did.
Sadi stood too quickly.
The room tilted.
Roman rose, but he did not touch her.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Sadi.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
She hated that.
She gripped the edge of the desk.
“My mother signed my name.”
“We don't know that yet.”
“I do.”
Roman watched her.
“Then we prove it.”
She laughed once, breathlessly.
“You say things like evidence is just another item on a grocery list.”
“In my life, evidence is usually safer than assumption.”
“My family forged my name on a loan.”
“We don't know who forged it.”
“My name was used.”
“Yes.”
“And Caruso knew who I was because—”
“Because the guarantee made you useful,” Roman said.
The room became cold.
Sadi pressed one hand to her mouth.
Suddenly the rehearsal dinner was not just about a cruel seating arrangement.
Her family’s finances were not just family finances.
Someone had attached her name to millions of dollars in debt without telling her.
Roman came around the desk.
He stopped at a respectful distance.
“You need an attorney who has never represented your family.”
“Are you offering one of yours?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
Roman took a card from the desk.
“Her name is Laura Mendel. She has no connection to me. She is very good. You choose whether to call.”
Sadi took the card.
“You already researched lawyers for me?”
“Last night.”
Something inside her softened despite the panic.
Then her phone rang.
Bianca.
Sadi answered.
“Hello?”
Her sister sounded as if she had been crying.
“Sadi, where are you?”
“At work.”
Roman’s eyebrow rose.
Sadi ignored him.
“Mom says you left with Roman Rossi.”
“Yes.”
“She’s furious.”
“That’s becoming less important by the minute.”
There was silence.
Then Bianca whispered, “Dad collapsed this morning.”
Sadi went still.
“What?”
“He’s conscious. The ambulance came. They think it was stress, maybe his blood pressure. He refused the hospital.”
“Of course he did.”
“Sadi, something is wrong. Mom locked herself in Dad’s office and keeps shredding papers.”
Roman heard.
So did Matteo.
Sadi looked at them.
“Bianca, listen to me. Do not let her destroy anything.”
“What?”
“Do not touch the papers. Do not argue with her. Just take pictures if you can.”
“Sadi, you're scaring me.”
“I’m scared too.”
Another silence.
Then Bianca said, “There’s more.”
Sadi closed her eyes.
“What?”
“Ethan is here.”
“Why?”
“He came to see Mom.”
Sadi’s hand tightened around the phone.
Bianca lowered her voice.
“I heard them arguing.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Sadi looked at Roman.
Bianca continued.
“Mom told him he was supposed to keep you away from Rossi.”
The room seemed to stop.
“What did you say?”
“Ethan was supposed to keep me away from Roman?”
“I don’t understand it either.”
Sadi’s pulse pounded.
Then a man’s voice sounded faintly on Bianca’s end.
Ethan.
“Sadi?” Bianca whispered.
“Yes.”
“I think they know I’m listening.”
The call ended.
Sadi immediately tried calling back.
No answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
Roman was already reaching for his jacket.
Sadi looked at him.
“You're not going without me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“This may become dangerous.”
“That is my family.”
“Yes.”
“My name is on that document.”
“Yes.”
“And my ex-boyfriend is apparently involved.”
Roman held her gaze.
Then he nodded once.
“Stay beside me.”
Sadi grabbed her coat.
At the doorway, Roman’s phone rang.
He answered.
Matteo watched him.
Roman’s face went still.
“What happened?” Sadi asked.
Roman ended the call.
“Your sister is safe.”
Relief hit first.
Then Roman continued.
“Your mother left the house.”
“Where did she go?”
Roman looked at the forged guarantee on his desk.
“To meet Dominic Caruso.”
The drive to the Haddad house was nearly silent.
Roman sat beside Sadi in the rear seat while Matteo spoke quietly on the phone up front.
Sadi watched Chicago slide past the window.
Every familiar street looked different now.
Her childhood neighborhood.
The bakery where Celeste bought birthday cakes.
The park where Ethan had first kissed her.
All of it existed beside a second city Sadi had never seen—the city of debt, pressure, hidden agreements, and men like Caruso.
Roman broke the silence.
“You do not have to confront anyone today.”
Sadi turned.
“Please do not start deciding what I have to do.”
“I said you do not have to. Not that you should not.”
She studied him.
“Better.”
“I am learning quickly.”
“We’ll see.”
Roman looked out the window.
Sadi noticed a small scar beneath his jaw, almost hidden by the collar of his shirt.
She had seen it many times while working in the mansion.
She had never asked.
Now the question escaped.
“Were you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Controlled.”
Roman considered.
“No.”
“What were you like?”
“Angrier.”
“That is alarming.”
He almost smiled.
“My mother disliked it.”
“You talk about her a lot.”
“Not usually.”
Sadi waited.
Roman continued.
“She cleaned offices at night after my father died. I used to hate that.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought people looked through her.”
The answer surprised Sadi.
Roman’s gaze remained on the window.
“I promised myself no one would ever look through me.”
“And they don't.”
“No.”
“Are you happier?”
Roman turned.
It was probably the first time anyone had asked him that without wanting something.
“No,” he said.
The honesty touched her.
Then the car slowed.
Roman’s expression hardened.
Two unfamiliar vehicles were parked near the Haddad house.
Matteo looked back.
“Reporters.”
Sadi groaned.
“Already?”
“Someone leaked that Caruso was at the hotel.”
Roman reached for his phone.
Sadi caught his wrist.
“No.”
He looked at her hand.
“No calling editors.”
“I was going to ask security to clear the driveway.”
“That is allowed.”
Roman nodded.
Sadi released him.
His eyes remained on her fingers for one second too long.
Despite everything, heat climbed into her face.
This was absurd.
Her identity had been forged.
Her mother had met with a criminal financier.
Her ex-boyfriend was involved.
And somehow her body still had time to notice Roman Rossi’s wrist.
She turned toward the window.
Roman’s mouth curved.
“Do not.”
“I said nothing.”
“You thought something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That this is complicated.”
May you like
Sadi looked at him.
“For once, we agree.”
