Chapter 10 - THE DEBT IN THE SILVER WATCH
I tried to pull my wrist back, but Rosa DeSantis had a grip like iron.
Her dark eyes, exactly like Nico’s, were fixed on the scratched face of my silver watch.
“Mother, let her go,” Nico warned, stepping quickly across the foyer.
Rosa didn’t release me. She looked up at my face, searching my features as if trying to find a ghost.
“I asked you a question, girl,” she demanded. “Where did you get this watch?”
“It was my grandfather’s,” I said, my voice steady despite the sudden tension in the room.
Rosa dropped my hand as if the metal had burned her.
She turned to Nico, pointing a trembling finger at me.
“Get her out of this house.”
Nico stepped between us, using his broad shoulders to shield me from his mother’s sudden fury.
“Hannah isn’t going anywhere,” he said firmly. “What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t know who she is!” Rosa cried, her elegant composure completely shattering. “You don’t know what her family did to your father!”
My stomach plummeted.
My father was a convicted felon who had blackmailed Brielle. I already knew my family was flawed.
But what did that have to do with Nico’s father?
“Her name is Hannah Porter,” Nico said calmly, refusing to match his mother’s panic.
Rosa let out a harsh, bitter laugh.
“Porter? That’s the name they gave the police. Their real name is Moretti. Her grandfather was Carlo Moretti.”
Nico froze.
I saw his shoulders tense. The silence in the room became suffocating.
“Nico?” I asked softly. “Who is Carlo Moretti?”
Nico turned to look at me. The warmth that had been in his eyes all week was suddenly gone, replaced by a guarded, dangerous shadow.
“Carlo Moretti,” Nico said slowly, “was my father’s business partner. Thirty years ago.”
“He wasn’t a partner!” Rosa spat. “He was a thief! He stole three million dollars from the family business and vanished in the middle of the night. It nearly ruined us.”
She glared at me.
“Your grandfather stole from my husband. And now you’ve wormed your way into my son’s house, wearing the watch my husband bought for him on the day they signed their contract.”
I backed away, instinctively covering the silver watch with my opposite hand.
“I don’t know anything about that,” I stammered. “My grandfather gave this to my dad, and my dad gave it to me before he went to prison. We never had three million dollars. We were poor my entire life.”
“A convenient lie,” Rosa sneered.
“It’s the truth!” I said, desperation creeping into my voice. I looked at Nico. “You have to believe me.”
Nico stared at the watch on my wrist.
He had just spent two years living with a woman who had lied to him about everything. He had just untangled a massive web of deceit.
Now, his mother was standing in his foyer, claiming I was part of a thirty-year-old betrayal.
“Nico,” I pleaded.
He closed his eyes.
“Mother, go to the study,” he said quietly.
Rosa looked triumphant. She shot me one last disgusted look and walked down the hall, the heels of her expensive shoes clicking sharply on the marble.
When we were alone, Nico finally looked at me.
“Is it true?” he asked softly. “Is your family’s real name Moretti?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. “My dad never talked about his childhood. He just said his dad made mistakes.”
Nico rubbed a hand over his face.
“Hannah, the watch you’re wearing… it’s a custom piece. My father had two made. One for himself, one for his partner. The serial numbers are inscribed on the back.”
I unclasped the watch with shaking fingers and handed it to him.
He flipped it over.
There, etched lightly into the scratched steel, were the initials: A.D. & C.M.
Antonio DeSantis and Carlo Moretti.
It was true.
“My grandfather was a thief,” I said, the fight draining out of me. “I didn’t know, Nico. I swear I didn’t know.”
Nico held the watch tightly in his fist.
“I know you didn’t,” he said softly.
He stepped forward and pulled me into a gentle hug. I rested my forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“But my mother won’t let this go,” Nico murmured into my hair. “In our world, debts don’t expire.”
“What do we do?”
“We prove she’s wrong.”
Nico pulled back and took my hand.
“Where did your father keep his things before he went to prison?”
“In a storage unit on the South Side. I pay the rent every month.”
“We’re going there.”
We left Rosa in the study and drove through the rain to a rundown storage facility on the edge of the city.
Inside unit 4B, among boxes of old clothes and broken furniture, was a heavy iron safe.
“Do you know the combination?” Nico asked.
“My dad’s inmate number,” I said. “84920.”
Nico turned the dial.
The heavy metal door clicked and swung open.
Inside wasn’t three million dollars in cash.
There was only a single leather folder.
Nico pulled it out and opened it under the dim yellow bulb of the storage unit.
It was the original partnership contract between Antonio DeSantis and Carlo Moretti.
But tucked behind it was a handwritten letter from Nico’s father, dated the day before my grandfather disappeared.
Nico read it out loud, his voice echoing in the dusty concrete room.
Carlo,
The feds are closing in. If they raid the accounts tomorrow, my wife and son will be left with nothing. I am wiring the three million to the offshore account under your name. Take the blame. Run. Protect Nico’s future. If you do this, my family will forever be in your debt.
Antonio.
Nico lowered the letter.
My grandfather hadn’t stolen the money.
He had saved the DeSantis empire. He had ruined his own name, forced his family into poverty, and lived like a fugitive, all to protect a young Nico.
“He didn’t steal it,” Nico whispered, staring at his father’s signature.
“He hid it for you,” I said.
We drove back to the estate in silence, the leather folder resting heavily on Nico’s lap.
When we walked into the study, Rosa was pouring herself a glass of bourbon.
She turned and smiled thinly. “Are her bags packed?”
Nico didn’t say a word.
He walked over to his father’s heavy oak desk and slammed the leather folder down right in front of his mother.
Rosa jumped.
“Read it,” Nico demanded.
Rosa frowned, setting her glass down. She opened the folder and read her late husband’s handwriting.
I watched her proud, aristocratic face crumble.
She sank into the leather armchair behind the desk, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Antonio,” she wept. “He never told me.”
She looked up at me.
The disgust in her eyes was gone. It was replaced by a profound, agonizing shame.
“Your grandfather died with nothing,” Rosa whispered. “Because he saved us.”
She stood up, her knees trembling, and walked around the desk.
She stopped in front of me.
Then, slowly, proudly, the matriarch of the DeSantis family bowed her head.
“I owe you my life,” Rosa said softly. “This house is yours.”
She walked out of the room, leaving Nico and me alone.
Nico picked up the silver watch from the desk.
He walked over to me, gently taking my wrist, and fastened the metal band securely back into place.
“No more debts,” Nico said, looking deeply into my eyes.
“No more secrets,” I replied.
He leaned down, and for the first time, he kissed me.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was a promise.
A promise that the past was finally buried, and our future was just beginning.
Suddenly, a small voice called out from the doorway.
“Daddy?”
Nico pulled back, smiling, and turned toward the door.
Ruby was standing there in her pajamas, holding a small wooden box.
“What do you have there, bug?” Nico asked warmly.
Ruby walked into the room and handed the box to me.
“I found it in Mommy’s closet,” she said innocently. “It has your name on it, Hannah.”
Nico and I froze.
I looked down at the dusty wooden box in my hands.
Carved into the lid, in Beth’s unmistakable handwriting, were two words.
May you like
For Hannah.
TITLE: The Final Gift In The Wooden Box
