Chapter 3 - THE SILVER POCKET WATCH
The drive back to the mansion felt entirely different.
The silence in the car wasn’t just heavy anymore.
It was dangerous.
Luca sat in the back seat, staring at the silver pocket watch in his palm.
His father’s watch.
The watch he had personally placed inside his father’s casket before it was lowered into the ground.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly.
He didn’t look up.
“He didn’t die in a car crash.”
Luca’s voice was completely devoid of emotion.
“My brother. Leo. The police said he lost control of his car on the icy bridge. It went into the river.”
He finally looked at me.
His eyes were terrifyingly blank.
“They murdered him. And Vanessa knew.”
Sal kept his eyes on the road, but his grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled.
“Sir,” Sal said. “Vanessa is still at the house.”
“I know.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Luca closed the pocket watch with a sharp click.
“Lock the gates. Nobody leaves.”
When we pulled into the mansion driveway, the engagement party was over.
The catering vans were gone.
The guests had fled.
The massive iron gates clanged shut behind us, sealing the property.
Luca walked through the front doors like a ghost.
The grand foyer was empty.
“Vanessa!”
His voice echoed off the marble floors, vibrating with a suppressed violence that made me step back.
Silence.
He took the stairs two at a time.
I followed, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Sal stayed at the bottom, pulling out a walkie-talkie to alert the grounds security.
Luca kicked open the doors to the master suite.
Empty.
Her closets were thrown open.
Designer dresses ripped from their hangers, tossed carelessly on the floor.
Her jewelry box on the vanity was tipped over, diamonds and pearls scattered across the glass.
She had run.
“She’s gone,” I said, picking up a discarded pearl necklace from the rug.
Luca didn’t answer.
He walked straight to the massive oil painting hanging above the fireplace.
He reached behind the heavy frame and pulled a hidden lever.
The painting swung outward, revealing a wall safe.
The metal door was hanging wide open.
Empty.
Luca stared at the hollow steel box.
“What was in there?” I asked.
“The ledger,” he whispered.
The same ledger the ransom note had demanded.
“What is the ledger, Luca?”
He turned to look at me.
It was the first time I had ever called him by his first name.
He didn’t seem to care.
“It’s the family registry,” he said. “Offshore accounts. Shell companies. The names of every judge and politician on the payroll. It’s the only thing keeping this family from being dismantled by the feds.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair.
“She took it. She’s going to trade the empire for her son.”
“She’s a mother,” I said softly. “Of course she is.”
Luca looked at me, a bitter smile crossing his face.
“You don’t understand Vanessa. She didn’t hide the boy out of love. She hid him out of leverage.”
He walked over to the vanity and began rummaging through the scattered makeup bags.
“Help me look,” he ordered. “She was panicking. She might have left something.”
I dropped to my knees and started checking the floor beneath the heavy velvet curtains.
My fingers brushed against something hard under the edge of the radiator.
I pulled it out.
It was a sleek, black USB drive.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He turned around.
I stood up and handed it to him.
Luca took it and immediately walked to his private study down the hall.
I followed close behind.
He plugged the drive into his laptop.
A single folder popped up on the screen.
Labeled: Insurance.
Luca clicked it.
It contained dozens of scanned bank transfers.
Huge sums of money. Millions of dollars.
Transferred from Vanessa’s private accounts to a holding company in the Cayman Islands.
Every month for the last four years.
“She was paying them off,” Luca muttered, scrolling through the documents. “Paying them to stay away from the boy.”
Then, he opened the last file.
It wasn’t a bank statement.
It was an audio recording.
Luca pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then, a man’s voice.
“The payment is late, Vanessa.”
My blood turned to ice.
The voice was deep, raspy, and incredibly arrogant.
Vanessa’s voice answered, trembling.
“I’m marrying him next month. Once I’m his wife, I’ll have access to the main trust. You’ll get your money.”
“I don’t want the money anymore,” the man said. “I want the ledger. Bring it to me, or I mail Luca the boy’s fingers.”
Vanessa sobbed on the recording.
“Please. He’s your nephew too.”
Luca slammed his hand down on the keyboard, stopping the audio.
The silence in the study was deafening.
I looked at him.
The color had completely drained from his face.
He was staring at the screen as if it were a ghost.
“Luca?” I whispered.
“That voice,” he said, his breathing shallow.
“Who is it?”
May you like
He turned to me.
“It’s my father.”
