Chapter 3 - The Silver Watch
Luca stepped out of the shadows.
Julia gasped, taking a sudden step backward. The silver pocket watch nearly slipped from her fingers, but she caught it against her chest.
“Mr. Moretti,” she breathed, her visible eye wide with panic. “I—I thought you were in the dining room.”
“What are you doing in the library, Julia?” Luca asked, his voice low but demanding. “Dr. Harris was supposed to be looking at your face.”
Julia swallowed hard. She kept her head tilted slightly, instinctively trying to hide the darkest part of the bruising on her cheek.
“Dr. Harris gave me an ice pack and told me to rest in the staff quarters,” she whispered. “But Mrs. Carter intercepted me. She said Vanessa… she said Miss Bellini gave strict orders that the library fireplace needed to be cleaned immediately.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “While the guests are still having dessert?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the watch?”
Julia looked down at the heavy silver object in her hands.
“I found it wedged behind the ash grate in the fireplace,” she said, her voice shaking. “It was covered in soot. I was going to bring it to Mrs. Carter to have it polished.”
Luca stepped closer.
He recognized the watch instantly.
It belonged to his father. It was a custom piece, engraved with the Moretti family crest. His father had carried it every single day. After his death, the watch had vanished. Luca’s mother claimed it must have been lost at the hospital.
“Give it to me,” Luca said softly.
Julia handed it over. Her fingers brushed his, and he felt how cold she was. She was shivering.
Luca wiped the soot from the silver casing. He pressed the top button.
The watch popped open.
The glass face was shattered. The hands were permanently stopped at exactly 11:42.
But that wasn’t what made the blood freeze in Luca’s veins.
Tucked neatly inside the broken watch face, folded into a tiny square, was a piece of scorched paper. It looked as though someone had tried to burn it, but the fire had died out before it could consume the evidence.
Luca carefully unfolded the fragile paper.
It was a bank withdrawal receipt.
The date was twelve years ago. The exact day his father died.
The amount was staggering. Five million dollars.
And the signature at the bottom authorizing the withdrawal was not his father’s.
It was Vanessa’s.
“She was here,” Luca whispered, the pieces violently clicking together in his mind. “She didn’t just confront him. She was in the house the night he died.”
“Mr. Moretti?” Julia asked softly, stepping slightly closer.
Luca looked up at her. Despite her swollen eye and the pain she was clearly in, she wasn't looking at him with fear anymore. She was looking at him with deep, genuine concern.
He realized in that moment how incredibly brave this woman was. She had taken a physical blow to protect an elderly gardener. She had suffered through a dinner party in silent agony to protect her family’s income.
“Julia,” Luca said, his voice softening. “Why didn’t you tell me Vanessa hit you?”
Julia looked at the floor. “Because you are going to marry her, sir. And a maid’s word means nothing against a fiancée’s.”
“It means something to me,” Luca said fiercely.
Julia looked up, surprised by the intensity in his voice.
Before she could respond, the sharp, unmistakable sound of high heels echoed against the marble floor at the end of the hallway.
Click. Click. Click.
Vanessa.
May you like
“Who are you talking to, Julia?” Vanessa’s voice rang out, sharp and cold, as she rounded the corner.
Luca didn’t think. He grabbed Julia’s hand, pulled her swiftly back into the library, and locked the heavy oak doors just as Vanessa reached for the handle.
