Chapter 9 - WHAT NAOMI CHOSE
Roman spent the next forty-eight hours believing the worst possible explanation.
Had Naomi intentionally endangered herself?
Had she known she might die?
Had her final instructions been preparations for suicide?
The answer came from Dr. Hart.
“No.”
The physician was emphatic.
“Naomi did not intentionally harm herself.”
Roman sat across from her.
“Then explain the medication.”
“The audit was misinterpreted.”
Dr. Hart opened the records.
Naomi had changed a dosage in her chart.
But not recklessly.
She had corrected an outdated prescription after consulting a specialist.
The change was medically appropriate.
It had nothing to do with her death.
The hemorrhage was an unpredictable obstetric catastrophe.
The delayed blood delivery had reduced the doctors’ margin for saving her.
But nobody could honestly say with certainty whether those seventeen minutes would have changed the outcome.
Roman leaned back.
Months earlier, he would have demanded someone to blame.
Now he understood that grief sometimes refused to provide a villain simple enough to hate.
Salvatore had committed a terrible crime.
Malcolm had manipulated his family.
Sabrina had helped.
Roman himself had betrayed Naomi.
But Naomi’s death was not a puzzle that could be neatly solved by punishing one person.
She had died bringing their children into the world.
And Roman had to decide what kind of life came afterward.
He made that decision publicly.
D’Angelo Maritime announced full cooperation with federal investigators.
Roman resigned as chief executive.
Several divisions were sold.
Illegal operations were dismantled.
Millions in hidden assets were surrendered.
Roman’s attorneys warned that he could lose almost everything.
“Then lose it,” Roman said.
The mansion went first.
Then the yacht.
Then several investment properties.
Luca watched movers remove a painting worth more than most homes.
“You going to miss it?”
Roman looked at the painting.
“I never liked it.”
“You paid four hundred thousand dollars for it.”
“Naomi liked the frame.”
Luca laughed.
Roman did too.
It was the first genuine laugh since her death.
Six months passed.
Matteo grew stronger.
Isabella became louder.
Much louder.
Lily began spending weekends with Roman.
Eventually, with her aunt’s blessing and a court-approved plan, she moved into the family home permanently.
Roman bought a smaller house outside the city.
It had a backyard.
Naomi would have liked it.
He kept her photographs everywhere.
He refused to turn her into a forbidden subject.
“Was Naomi nice?” Lily asked one evening.
Roman considered it.
“She was kind.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Nice is easy. Kind sometimes requires courage.”
Lily thought about that.
“Did she know about me?”
Roman froze.
He had never considered it.
Later that night, he searched Naomi’s digital archive.
He found a folder labeled CASSANDRA REED.
His hands trembled.
Naomi had discovered Lily months before her death.
Inside was another recording.
Roman sat alone and pressed play.
Naomi appeared on screen.
“If you found this, then you found Lily.”
Roman covered his mouth.
“I was trying to locate Cassandra when I learned she had died. I found evidence of the child, but I didn’t know how to tell you yet.”
Naomi paused.
“I was furious with you when I discovered Sabrina. I wanted to punish you. Then I found out you had a daughter you didn’t know existed.”
Her eyes softened.
“And I realized children should never become weapons in adult wars.”
Roman cried silently.
“Find her.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“Give her what we both needed when we were children—a home where love isn’t something she has to earn.”
The recording ended.
Roman remained there for a long time.
Then Lily appeared in the doorway.
“Dad?”
He quickly wiped his face.
She noticed anyway.
“Are you sad?”
“Yes.”
“About Naomi?”
“Yes.”
Lily walked over and hugged him.
Roman held her.
For years, he had believed strength meant nobody seeing him break.
His children were teaching him something else.
The following week, Roman established the Naomi D’Angelo Foundation.
Its first program funded emergency maternal-care transportation for rural and underserved hospitals.
Its second supported families with premature infants.
Roman did not put his own name anywhere.
At the opening, Dr. Hart approached him.
“She would have liked this.”
“I hope so.”
Claire, the NICU nurse, had become the foundation’s clinical director.
She handed Roman Isabella.
“Your daughter has been attempting to eat my badge.”
Roman looked at the baby.
“Corporate espionage.”
Claire laughed.
Then someone appeared at the back of the room.
Sabrina.
Roman stiffened.
She did not approach.
She simply placed flowers beneath Naomi’s photograph.
Then she left.
No dramatic apology.
No request for forgiveness.
Some wounds did not require reconciliation to close.
That evening, Roman took all three children to Naomi’s grave.
Lily placed a daisy beside the stone.
Matteo slept.
Isabella tried to grab the flowers.
Roman sat on the grass.
“I’m trying, Naomi.”
Wind moved through the trees.
“I’m still getting things wrong.”
He looked at his children.
“But I’m here.”
His phone rang.
Luca.
Roman almost ignored it.
Then he answered.
“What?”
“You need to see the news.”
Roman opened the alert.
Malcolm Vane had agreed to testify.
Not merely against Salvatore.
Against dozens of people connected to the old ledger.
Roman read further.
Then stopped.
Malcolm had made one additional request before entering protective custody.
He wanted to see Roman once.
No lawyers.
No cameras.
No bargains.
Roman looked at Naomi’s grave.
For months, he had wondered what he would say to his biological father.
Now he finally knew.
“I’ll see him.”
Luca hesitated.
“You sure?”
Roman watched Lily chase a butterfly between the graves while Isabella laughed in his arms.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
May you like
Roman looked at Naomi’s name carved in stone.
“Because some things need to end before something better can begin.”
