Chapter 2 - THE TEXT MESSAGE FROM A GHOST
Vincent stared at his glowing phone screen.
The dining room of the Chicago mansion was completely silent.
Forty-eight elite guests held their breath.
Caroline stood frozen near the marble archway, her face pale.
Richard Mercer hadn't moved.
But Vincent couldn't take his eyes off the six words his brother had just sent.
“AND DON'T TRUST ROSE UNTIL YOU ASK HER WHO WAS REALLY BURIED IN DAD'S GRAVE.”
I watched Vincent’s thumb hover over the screen. His breathing grew shallow. He looked down at Rose.
She was still holding his hand, her knuckles white, her silver hair trembling as she wept.
“Rose,” Vincent whispered. His voice was entirely different now. It wasn’t the voice of a grieving son. It was the cold, hollow tone of a boss who had just found a rat.
Rose blinked through her tears. “What is it, baby?”
He slowly turned the phone around so she could see the screen.
“Anthony just sent this.”
Rose’s eyes dropped to the bright text.
I watched her face carefully. I expected shock. I expected outrage. I expected her to deny it immediately.
Instead, the color completely drained from her cheeks.
She let go of his hand.
“Rose,” Vincent repeated, stepping closer. “Who is buried in my father’s grave?”
“Vincent, please,” she whispered, looking around the room. “Not here. Not in front of them.”
“Answer me.”
“Your mother—”
“Don't use my mother to dodge the question!” Vincent’s voice echoed off the chandelier crystals. Several guests flinched. I took a half-step toward Rose, terrified her knee would give out again.
Caroline suddenly stepped forward. “You see? She’s a liar, Vincent. She’s been lying to you your entire life.”
Vincent didn't even look at Caroline. “Mia,” he snapped.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get Caroline and her father out of my house. Now.”
Richard Mercer scoffed. “You can’t just dismiss us, Vincent. We hold a twenty-eight-million-dollar note on your property.”
“Daniel,” Vincent said to his lawyer, keeping his eyes locked on Rose. “If Mercer isn't out of this room in ten seconds, have security break his legs.”
Daniel nodded. “Security. Escort Mr. Mercer and his daughter to the gates.”
Caroline burst into tears. “Vincent, you can't do this! I love you!”
Two massive men in dark suits grabbed Richard’s arms. Another approached Caroline. She fought them, her red satin gown twisting, crying out for Vincent as they dragged her through the double doors.
When the room was empty of everyone except Vincent, Daniel, Rose, and me, Vincent knelt back down.
“Tell me the truth, Rose.”
She pulled a crumpled tissue from her navy dress. “Your father didn't drown, honey. But he didn't run away, either.”
“Then where is he?”
Rose squeezed her eyes shut. “He died that night on the boat. But it wasn’t an accident.”
Vincent froze.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Your mama did it,” Rose whispered, the tears flowing freely now. “She shot him, Vincent. To save you and Anthony.”
Vincent staggered back, catching himself on the edge of the banquet table. “My mother? My mother never touched a gun in her life.”
“She had to,” Rose sobbed. “He was going to sell you both to the Lupertazzi family to clear his gambling debts. She found the contract.”
“Then whose body did they pull from the lake?” Vincent demanded. “Who did we bury?”
Rose reached into her cardigan pocket. Her hand shook violently as she pulled out a tarnished silver watch.
Its glass face was shattered. The hands were stopped at 2:14.
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Vincent stared at it. “That’s... that’s Dad’s watch.”
“No, sweetheart,” Rose whispered, looking up at him with terrifying sadness. “It’s Richard Mercer’s brother’s watch. And it’s what Richard has been using to blackmail your mother for twenty-five years.”
