Chapter 9 - Shadows in the Rearview MirrorThree months later, the trial of Camille Alvaredo and Julian Petrovic lasted exactly four days. With Arthur Velez turning state's evidence in exchange for a reduced sentence, and Naomi’s comprehensive digital archive laying out every detail of the conspiracy, the jury didn't even need to deliberate for an hour.
Guilty on all counts. Life without parole, tucked away in a maximum-security federal penitentiary where no amount of money or family influence could ever reach them.
The morning after the verdict, I stood outside the grand doors of the Moretti estate, watching as Jack and Rosie chased each other across the manicured lawn. Rosie was clutching her patchwork rabbit tightly, her laughter ringing out across the grass like wind chimes.
Naomi walked up beside me, holding a clipboard with the weekly household schedule.
"Parent-teacher conference for Jack is on Tuesday," she noted, not looking up from the paper. "And Rosie’s ballet recital is on Thursday evening. Third row center seats, just like you asked."
I smiled, sliding my hands into my pockets. "Make sure my calendar is completely cleared for both. No meetings, no calls, no exceptions."
"Already done," Naomi said, finally looking up with a warm, genuine smile. "You're actually turning into a domestic dad, Roman. It's terrifying."
"Someone has to keep them in line," I retorted lightly.
As we stood there watching the children, a sleek black town car pulled slowly up the private driveway and stopped near the security gates. The tinted window rolled down halfway, revealing the weathered, sharp-eyed face of old man Moretti’s former captain—Vincenzo, who had retired to the Sicilian coast a decade ago.
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He didn't step out of the car. He just tipped his fedora toward me, a silent gesture of respect, before the window rolled back up and the car drove off into the morning mist.
I watched it go, feeling a quiet sense of finality. The ghosts of my past had finally been laid to rest.
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