Chapter 9 - The Last Secret at Table Four
Eleven months later, Ethan asked to meet Sadi.
She almost refused.
Then Laura called.
“He has something connected to the case.”
So Sadi agreed.
Public place.
Daytime.
Roman knew.
He did not attend.
Learning.
Ethan chose the same restaurant where the rehearsal dinner had taken place.
Sadi nearly laughed when the hostess led her to table four.
Of course.
Ethan stood.
He looked older.
Not dramatically.
Just tired in ways expensive clothes could not hide.
“Thanks for coming.”
Sadi sat.
“You said this concerns the case.”
“It does.”
He placed an envelope on the table.
Sadi did not touch it.
“What is it?”
“Copies of emails between your mother and Caruso’s assistant.”
“My lawyer already has their communications.”
“Not these.”
Sadi’s stomach tightened.
Ethan slid the envelope closer.
“They were deleted from the company server. I recovered them from an old backup.”
Sadi opened it.
The first emails were exactly what she expected.
Loan terms.
Deadlines.
Requests.
Then she reached one dated two weeks before the rehearsal dinner.
Celeste had written:
SADI WORKS FOR ROSSI. IF ROMAN BECOMES INVOLVED, EVERYTHING CHANGES.
Caruso’s assistant replied:
THEN KEEP HER AWAY FROM HIM.
Sadi read the next line.
Celeste:
ETHAN CAN HANDLE THAT.
Her hands went cold.
She looked at Ethan.
“You knew they wanted me away from Roman before the rehearsal dinner.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Caruso believed if Roman learned the guarantee involved you, he would challenge Westbridge.”
Sadi thought of Roman declining the debt purchase.
Caruso had been right.
Ethan looked ashamed.
“Your mother asked me to attend because she thought seeing me with another woman would keep you embarrassed and distracted.”
Sadi stared.
“Another woman?”
He swallowed.
“I brought Lauren.”
Sadi remembered.
The thin brunette seated beside Ethan at the rehearsal dinner.
She had barely noticed her after Roman entered.
“You used my insecurity as a strategy.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Sadi sat back.
For a moment, the old pain returned.
Then something surprising happened.
It passed.
Not because it had become acceptable.
Because it no longer defined her.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because Caruso’s attorney wants me to testify that your mother acted alone.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
Sadi’s eyes narrowed.
“Who else?”
Ethan looked around the restaurant.
Then he said, “My father.”
Sadi knew Ethan’s father had served on Haddad Construction’s board.
“He approved the introduction to Westbridge. He received a consulting fee.”
Sadi’s anger sharpened.
“So the men who were supposed to advise my father profited while the company collapsed.”
“Yes.”
“Does Laura know?”
“Not yet.”
“She will.”
Ethan nodded.
Sadi gathered the papers.
He looked at her.
“There is something else I want to say.”
She waited.
“I spent a long time telling myself I lost you because Roman Rossi was richer, stronger, more powerful.”
Sadi said nothing.
Ethan gave a small, sad smile.
“That story made me feel better.”
“What is the real story?”
“I lost you before he ever walked into that restaurant.”
For once, Ethan had said something she agreed with completely.
He continued.
“I lost you every time I let someone else decide what you deserved to know.”
Sadi looked at the envelope.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
“I believe you.”
His eyes lifted.
“But forgiveness is not the same as returning.”
“I know.”
Sadi stood.
At the edge of the table, she paused.
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
“I hope you learn to say no before someone gets hurt.”
He looked down.
“So do I.”
Sadi left.
Outside, Roman waited across the street beside his car.
She stopped.
He lifted both hands.
“You said not to come inside.”
Sadi laughed.
“I see that.”
“I also parked across the street.”
“Very restrained.”
“I deserve recognition.”
She crossed to him.
Roman’s expression became serious.
“What happened?”
Sadi handed him the envelope.
He read.
His jaw hardened.
“You knew none of this?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked at her.
“That sounded accusatory.”
“It was preventative.”
Roman folded the pages.
“Your attorney should have these.”
“She will.”
He returned them.
Then his gaze moved toward the restaurant.
“Table four?”
Sadi smiled.
“Table four.”
Roman opened the car door.
“Do you hate that number yet?”
“No.”
She slid into the seat.
Roman entered beside her.
Sadi looked back at the restaurant.
“That table changed my life.”
Roman’s expression softened.
“Mine too.”
She turned.
“You were supposed to be using me for an alibi.”
“Yes.”
“I was supposed to be using you to make my ex jealous.”
“Yes.”
“We were both terrible people.”
“I believe your crime was less serious.”
“Thank you.”
Roman took her hand.
They drove to the Haddad house.
Celeste was waiting.
Sadi had called ahead.
Her mother read the emails in silence.
When she reached her own messages, she began to cry.
“I told myself I was keeping you away from danger.”
Sadi sat across from her.
“You were keeping me away from information.”
Celeste nodded.
“I know.”
“Did you know Ethan’s father was being paid?”
“No.”
Sadi believed her.
Celeste had done enough wrong.
Not everything had to belong to her.
Nabil entered halfway through the conversation.
When he learned about the board payments, he sat down slowly.
For the first time, Sadi saw anger replace his shame.
“I trusted them.”
Celeste looked at him.
“So did I.”
Nabil turned to Sadi.
“And you trusted us.”
The sentence filled the room.
Sadi nodded.
“Yes.”
Nabil looked away.
There was nothing more to say.
The case moved quickly after that.
Ethan’s father accepted a plea agreement.
Caruso’s financial empire continued collapsing under criminal and civil cases.
Westbridge’s fraudulent guarantees were invalidated.
Sadi’s name was formally removed from every obligation.
Haddad Construction survived, but smaller.
Nabil sold two divisions and stepped back from daily operations.
Celeste began therapy.
She told no one for three months.
When she finally told Sadi, she said, “Apparently I have control issues.”
Sadi stared.
“Should I act surprised?”
Celeste laughed until she cried.
It was progress.
One evening, exactly one year after Sadi had stopped working at Roman’s mansion, she arrived at the Rossi house for dinner.
Roman met her at the door.
He looked nervous.
That alone was suspicious.
“Why are you standing like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a man about to negotiate a hostage release.”
Roman frowned.
“I do not stand like that.”
Matteo passed behind him.
“You absolutely do.”
Roman looked murderous.
Matteo disappeared.
Sadi smiled.
“Dinner?”
“Garden.”
Roman offered his arm.
The same gesture he had made before the rehearsal dinner.
Sadi took it.
They walked through the house to the winter garden.
One table stood beneath the lights.
Two chairs.
Candles.
No staff.
No audience.
Sadi stopped.
On the table sat a small card.
TABLE FOUR.
She laughed.
“You did not.”
“I did.”
Roman pulled out her chair.
“For my girlfriend.”
Sadi sat.
Her heart was already racing.
Roman took the chair across from her.
For dinner, they ate the same simple Italian food from their first real date.
At dessert, cannoli arrived.
Sadi narrowed her eyes.
“Are you trying to emotionally manipulate me with pastry?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for the disclosure.”
Roman smiled.
Then he became serious.
“Sadi.”
She put down her fork.
“One year ago, you told me to ask again when we were no longer surviving a crisis.”
Her breath caught.
Roman reached into his jacket.
This time, Sadi did not stop him.
He placed the velvet box on the table.
He did not open it.
“I will not ask unless you want me to.”
Sadi’s eyes filled.
“Roman.”
“I mean it.”
She looked at the box.
Then at him.
A year ago, she had needed to know she could say no and still be loved.
Now she knew.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Roman stared.
“I have not asked.”
“I know.”
“That is not how this works.”
“Then hurry.”
For once, Roman Rossi looked flustered.
Sadi laughed through tears.
He came around the table.
Then, to her surprise, he knelt.
Roman opened the box.
The ring was elegant.
Not enormous.
He had learned.
“Sadi Haddad,” he said, “will you choose me?”
Not marry me.
Choose me.
That mattered.
Sadi looked at the man who had once pretended to be her boyfriend because it was convenient.
The man who had made mistakes.
Hidden things.
Learned to tell the truth before she demanded it.
The man who had never once asked her to become smaller so he could feel larger.
“Yes.”
Roman exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for a year.
Sadi touched his face.
“Yes, Roman. I choose you.”
The morning of the wedding, Roman stood alone in the winter garden of his old mansion.
He had not lived there for months, but the room still remembered Sadi.
The chair where she had once eaten strawberries after the rehearsal dinner.
The hallway where she had demanded the truth.
The desk where he had first seen her forged signature.
Matteo found him there.
“You are going to be late to your own wedding.”
“I have forty minutes.”
“You have thirty-two.”
Roman looked at him.
“You have become irritating.”
“I learned from your wife.”
“Not yet.”
Matteo smiled.
“Thirty-two minutes.”
Roman looked around the room one last time.
“I almost ruined it.”
Matteo knew what he meant.
“Yes.”
Roman stared.
“You could lie.”
“You pay me for honesty.”
“I pay you excessively.”
“Still honesty.”
Roman smiled faintly.
Matteo’s expression softened.
“You also changed.”
Roman looked toward the window.
“I am still changing.”
“That is usually how it works.”
Roman reached into his pocket.
The old place card was there.
SADI HADDAD.
Sadi had given it to him months earlier after finding it in her purse.
“Keep it,” she had said. “So you remember where this started.”
Roman had carried it ever since.
Matteo noticed.
“You brought that?”
“Yes.”
“You are sentimental.”
“Tell anyone and I will deny it.”
“Of course.”
Roman placed the card inside his jacket, close to his heart.
Then he walked out of the mansion.
Not as the man who had offered to pretend.
Not as the man who believed power solved everything.
As a man going to meet a woman who had taught him that love without choice was merely another form of possession.
And for the first time in his life, Roman wanted something he could not command.
May you like
He wanted her yes.
Only because she was free to say no.
