Chapter 3 - The Bloodstained Silver
The silence in the dining room wasn't just quiet; it was suffocating.
Vanessa stared at me as if I had just plunged a knife into her chest.
"She’s lying!" Vanessa shrieked, her voice echoing off the high, painted ceilings. "Luca, this maid has been trying to sabotage me since the day I moved in! She’s jealous, she’s pathetic, and she is a liar!"
Luca didn't blink. He didn't yell.
He just reached into the inside pocket of his tailored black jacket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a single number and held it to his ear.
"Marco."
At the sound of the head of security’s name, Vanessa physically stumbled backward.
"Bring a drill to the second-floor master suite," Luca said calmly. "Wait for me outside Vanessa's dressing room." He hung up.
"Luca, you cannot invade my privacy like this!" Vanessa demanded, her panic rising into a frantic pitch. "We are getting married in three days! Is this how much you trust me? You’re going to listen to the help over your own fiancée?"
Luca stepped toward her. The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees.
"My sister’s husband burned to death inside his vehicle four months ago," Luca said, his voice terrifying in its softness. "My niece will never meet her father. If there is a bloody watch in your safe, there won't be a wedding on Monday. There will be a funeral."
Olivia let out a quiet sob. Eleanor immediately wrapped her arms around the younger woman, sheltering both Olivia and the sleeping baby.
"Let's go," Luca commanded.
He turned on his heel and walked toward the grand staircase. He didn't look back to see if Vanessa was following. He knew she had no choice.
"Claire," Luca called out without stopping. "With me."
My stomach plummeted, but I forced my feet to move.
We climbed the sweeping marble staircase. The heavy silence of the mansion was broken only by our footsteps. Vanessa walked beside me, her breathing ragged, her eyes darting like a trapped animal's.
When we reached the master suite, Marco was already standing outside the dressing room doors. He was a massive man in a dark suit, holding an industrial drill.
"Open it," Luca said.
Vanessa threw herself in front of the heavy oak doors. "No! Luca, please! You don't understand what you're doing!"
"Move, Vanessa."
"Adrian will kill me!" she blurted out.
The words hung in the air.
Luca tilted his head. "Why would your brother kill you over a watch?"
Vanessa clutched her face, sobbing hysterically now. "Because Matthew didn't just give him the watch! You don't understand what Matthew was doing, Luca. You think he was this perfect, innocent husband? He was stealing from us!"
Olivia, who had followed us upstairs with Eleanor, let out a sharp cry. "Don't you dare talk about him like that!"
"Move her," Luca told Marco.
Marco gently but firmly pulled Vanessa away from the doors. He stepped into the dressing room, knelt before the wall safe hidden behind a mirror, and placed the drill against the lock.
The screeching sound of metal tearing into metal echoed through the hallway.
It took less than three minutes.
With a heavy clack, the safe door swung open.
Luca knelt. He reached inside the dark velvet-lined interior.
When he pulled his hand out, Olivia let out a sound of pure agony.
Dangling from Luca’s fingers was a heavy, antique silver pocket watch. The intricate engravings on the casing were crusted with dark, dried brown flakes.
Blood.
Matthew’s blood.
Olivia collapsed against the doorframe, weeping so hard she could barely hold the baby. Eleanor took little Emma into her own arms, crying silently as she looked at her son’s final possession.
"He gave this to Adrian," Luca said slowly, examining the watch. "Why?"
"Because he was returning it," Vanessa wept. "Adrian gave it to Matthew as a gift when they opened the restaurant. Matthew returning it meant their partnership was over."
Luca pressed the latch on the top of the watch.
The silver cover popped open.
The glass face of the clock was shattered. The hands were frozen at 11:24 PM.
But that wasn't what made Luca freeze.
Folded tightly into a tiny square, wedged between the shattered glass and the metal casing, was a piece of paper.
Luca pulled it out. Carefully, he unfolded the blood-stained paper.
He read it once. Then he read it again.
When he looked up, the expression on his face was one of pure, unadulterated violence.
"He wasn't returning a gift," Luca whispered. "He was hiding a message."
He turned the paper around so Olivia could see it.
It was a printed receipt from a private charter airline.
It was a one-way flight from Chicago to Zurich, Switzerland.
It was booked for two passengers: Matthew Price and Olivia Price.
May you like
And the departure time was scheduled for 6:00 AM—the morning after the car crash.
"Matthew wasn't driving home that night," Luca said to his sister, his voice breaking. "He was running away. He was trying to get you out of the country."
