Chapter 9 - The Price of a Different Life
The audit found what I had feared: contracts built on intimidation, concealed payments, and years of decisions I could no longer defend. I hired independent counsel for the company and began cooperating with authorities. I resigned from direct management while the investigation proceeded.
Newspapers called it the fall of Roman Moretti. Some rivals celebrated. Employees worried about their paychecks. I worked with the lawful management team to preserve legitimate jobs and ensure the company could meet its obligations without criminal arrangements.
I did not ask anyone to call me brave. I had profited from a system that hurt people. Walking away was overdue, not heroic.
Victor helped dismantle the private security practices that had blurred into enforcement. He turned over relevant records through counsel and accepted that investigators would examine his actions too. We were not guaranteed easy endings.
Jack struggled with the changes. He had heard a classmate call me a criminal. He asked whether the boy was lying.
“Some things I've done were wrong,” I told him. “Some are being investigated. I won't lie to you about that.”
“Does that mean you have to leave?”
“I don't know everything that will happen. But I will keep showing up for you, and there are people who will make sure you are cared for no matter what.”
He looked frightened. I wanted to promise that nothing could separate us. I refused to make a promise I couldn't control. Instead I promised honesty, and I kept it.
Naomi began studying to become a licensed social worker. She said the children had shown her how much difference one safe adult could make. I offered to pay her tuition. She declined at first, concerned that accepting would blur the independence she had worked so hard to protect.
We found another way: a scholarship fund established through an independent nonprofit for domestic workers pursuing social services training. Naomi applied under the same criteria as everyone else. I was proud when she received an award, but the accomplishment was hers.
Daniel started rebuilding his life near Naomi. He testified about the financial records and began therapy for the years he had spent hiding. The siblings argued sometimes about missed birthdays and unanswered messages. Their reunion was not magically simple, but it was real.
One evening, Naomi and I walked along the lake after the children went to bed. The wind was cold, and she tucked her hands into her coat pockets.
“Who are you without the empire?” she asked.
“I don't know yet.”
“Maybe that's not a bad place to start.”
I wanted to take her hand. I didn't. Her life was opening in directions she had chosen, and I would not confuse my longing with a claim upon her.
At the end of the path she stopped. “Roman, I care about you. But I need to know you're building this new life for yourself and your children, not for me.”
May you like
“I am,” I said. “Even if you never choose to be part of it.”
She nodded. It was not a promise of romance. It was something more valuable: the truth.
