Chapter 2 - THE SILVER WATCH
Luca stared at the paper in his hands.
The silence in the study was absolute.
I sat on the leather sofa, my bandaged knee throbbing, afraid to even breathe.
"Mr. Moretti?" I whispered.
He didn't look up.
His eyes were locked on his father’s jagged, desperate handwriting.
She was in my room the night your mother died. And she wasn't alone.
Luca’s mother, Isabella, had died of a sudden heart attack two years ago.
It had happened in the middle of the night.
In her sleep.
That was what the family doctor had ruled.
But Antonio’s note shattered that reality in a single second.
Luca slowly lowered the paper.
The cold, controlled mafia boss I had worked for over the past eleven months was gone.
In his place was a son who had just realized he’d been sleeping next to his mother’s killer.
"Grace," Luca said. His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Who was the doctor Vanessa called to examine your knee tonight?"
"Dr. Harris, sir," I answered, my heart pounding. "The family physician. He’s upstairs waiting for me."
Luca’s jaw clenched.
Dr. Harris was the same man who had signed Isabella Moretti's death certificate.
He was the same man who had prescribed Antonio’s new stroke medication—the medication that always made the old man too groggy to speak clearly.
"Stay here," Luca ordered.
He walked to his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer, and pulled out a heavy, dark handgun.
He didn't check the clip. He just slipped it into his jacket.
"Mr. Moretti, wait," I panicked, trying to stand.
Pain flared in my knee, and I fell back against the cushions.
"I have a son," I blurted out.
The words tore from my throat before I could stop them.
Luca froze at the door.
"His name is Leo. He’s six years old," I said, tears spilling over my cheeks. "He’s at home with a babysitter. If I lose this job, or if something happens to me tonight... we’ll be on the street on Friday. I can’t be part of this."
Luca looked at me.
The anger in his eyes softened, replaced by a fierce, protective shadow.
"Nothing is going to happen to you, Grace. Or your son."
He walked back to the sofa.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills.
He set it on the table in front of me.
"That’s for your rent. Now, tell me exactly what Dr. Harris did when he examined you."
I swallowed, staring at the money.
"He pressed hard on the bruise," I whispered. "He told me it was just a sprain. But when he reached for his medical bag..."
"What?" Luca prompted.
"His sleeve pulled back," I said. "He was wearing a vintage silver watch. It had a cracked face."
Luca went perfectly still.
"A silver watch?"
"Yes. With a black leather band. I only noticed because Vanessa had me clean a watch exactly like that yesterday. She told me she bought it at an antique auction as a wedding gift."
Luca's face turned to stone.
Because Vanessa hadn't bought that watch at an auction.
That silver watch had belonged to Luca’s grandfather.
It had been kept in a locked glass case in his mother’s bedroom.
The same bedroom she had died in.
Suddenly, the heavy oak door of the study swung open.
Dr. Harris stood in the doorway.
He held a syringe in his right hand.
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And a one-way train ticket in his left.
"I think Grace needs a sedative for that knee," Dr. Harris said smoothly. "And then, she needs to leave Chicago."
