Chapter 2 - THE SILVER WATCH
The clock on the dashboard read 10:22 p.m.
Luca drove his black SUV through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago at eighty miles an hour.
I sat in the passenger seat, still wearing my torn uniform, clutching Bruno’s blue blanket against my chest.
Neither of us had spoken since we left the mansion.
We didn't need to. The silence was heavy with a terrifying question: Were we already too late?
"Call them again," Luca ordered, his voice dangerously calm.
I hit redial on his phone. It rang five times.
"Still going to voicemail," I whispered.
Luca’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Ten minutes later, the tires screeched as we swerved into the parking lot of the Westside Veterinary Clinic.
The front lobby was completely dark.
My heart sank.
But a sliver of light shined from beneath the back door.
Luca didn't knock. He didn't check the handle.
He stepped back and kicked the reinforced door right beside the deadbolt. The wood splintered with a deafening crack. The door flew open.
"Hey! You can't be in here!" a young man in green scrubs yelled, dropping a clipboard.
Luca walked straight past him, his eyes scanning the stainless-steel tables.
And then we saw him.
Bruno was lying on an examination table in the back room.
His eyes were closed. His breathing was terribly shallow.
Beside the table stood a veterinarian, a syringe of pink liquid held in her right hand. The needle was hovering just inches from Bruno’s IV line.
"Stop," Luca said.
It wasn't a shout. It was a command that sucked the air out of the room.
The vet froze, her eyes widening as she recognized him. "Mr. Moretti? We… Miss Bellini said you couldn't bear to be here. She said the aggression had gotten too bad."
"Get that needle away from my dog," Luca said.
I rushed forward and wrapped the blue blanket around Bruno. The old dog opened one hazy eye and let out a weak, rattling sigh. I pressed my face into his golden fur. He was warm. He was alive.
The vet backed away, trembling. "I was just following the written authorization. She brought proof of your consent."
Luca turned his head. "What proof?"
The vet pointed to a metal tray on the counter. "She said you wanted him to have this. To go to sleep with it. She said it was proof you had made the decision together."
Luca stepped toward the tray.
My breath caught.
Resting on the sterile metal was a heavy, silver pocket watch.
I recognized it immediately. It sat on Luca’s desk every single day.
But Luca didn't reach for it. He just stared at it, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek.
"Mr. Moretti?" I asked softly.
"That watch," Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "has been locked in my personal safe since this morning."
A chill ran down my spine.
Vanessa hadn't just taken the dog. She had accessed the mafia boss’s private vault.
"Why would she use that?" I asked.
Luca finally picked up the watch. He turned it over.
The back casing was popped open. The intricate gears were exposed.
"Because she was looking for what was hidden inside it," Luca said.
He looked at me, his dark eyes entirely changed. "Emma, who else was in the house when you took this job?"
"Just my mother," I answered, confused. "And my son."
Luca’s head snapped up. "Your son? You have a child?"
"Leo. He's six. My mother is watching him tonight."
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Luca shoved the watch into his pocket and lifted Bruno into his arms.
"We need to get to your apartment," he said, moving toward the door. "Now."
