Chapter 4 - THE GOLD WATCH ON HIS WRIST
Are you sure, Sophie? I signed, my fingers trembling so badly I stumbled over the words.
She nodded vigorously. Yes. The gold watch with the black face. He was in Dad's office when you were making breakfast. Dad told me to stay in the hallway.
I looked up from my daughter.
Marco Moretti was staring at us, his face pale. He didn’t know what Sophie had just communicated, but he saw the shift in my posture. He knew the child had exposed him.
"He was in my house," I said, my voice cutting through the tension. I looked at Luca, who was still holding Patrick by the collar against the marble pillar. "Your uncle was in my house this morning."
Luca slowly turned his head. His grip on Patrick didn't loosen, but his eyes locked onto Marco.
"Is this true?" Luca asked softly.
Marco took a step back, bumping into a chair. "Luca, listen to me. I went there to collect the deed. That’s all. I needed to make sure the asset was secured before the wedding."
"You went to my home while my daughter was there?" I demanded, a fierce, protective anger burning through the shock. "You went behind my back while I was in the kitchen cooking for the man who was plotting to destroy me?"
Isabella stepped forward, her wedding dress dragging on the floor. Her tears were gone, replaced by a cold, devastating fury. "You used my wedding, Uncle Marco. You used my marriage to launder money for a degenerate."
"I was protecting the family!" Marco barked, panic making his voice crack. "If Patrick defaults on the syndicate, they would look at his ties to us! I had to secure the lake house to pay them off!"
Luca finally released Patrick, letting him slump to the floor, gasping for air.
Luca straightened his suit jacket, walking slowly toward his uncle. "You brought syndicate debt into my house. You brought a fraud to my sister's altar. And you trespassed in the home of an innocent woman."
"I didn't trespass!" Patrick coughed from the floor, rubbing his throat. He staggered to his feet, his eyes wild and desperate. "I invited him in! It's my house too, Julia! I can bring whoever I want into it!"
"Not anymore," I said, my voice shaking with a strength I didn't know I possessed. "You're done, Patrick. I'm calling the police. I'm having you arrested for fraud, for forgery, and for child endangerment."
Patrick let out a bitter, ugly laugh. "Go ahead. Call them. Tell them your husband sold a house. See how much they care about a civil property dispute."
"It's not a civil dispute when you forge a notary stamp and fake medical records," Luca corrected coldly.
Patrick glared at me, leaning against the pillar. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, letting it dangle from his fingers.
It was a delicate silver rosary.
My breath hitched. It was my mother's rosary. I had been looking for it for three weeks. I thought I had lost it at work. I had cried for days over it.
"You want to talk about medical records, Julia?" Patrick sneered. "Who do you think the police will believe? The successful broker, or the waitress who has been misplacing things for months? Who leaves the stove on? Who forgets where she put her own mother's rosary?"
He threw the rosary onto the floor at my feet.
"I didn't lose it," I whispered, the horror washing over me. "You took it. You've been hiding my things. You turned the stove on. You were trying to make me think I was losing my mind."
"Gaslighting 101," Patrick said with a cruel smirk. "And it worked beautifully. I have a journal documenting your 'episodes'. I have Dr. Aris's old files. If you try to take me down, Julia, I will take you to family court. I will have you declared unfit. And I will take Sophie."
I felt the room spin. He had orchestrated every single moment of my misery.
Then, Isabella Moretti did something I will never forget.
She reached behind her neck and unclasped the heavy, antique pearl necklace she wore.
"You think you're very smart, Patrick," Isabella said, her voice shaking with rage.
May you like
She held the necklace up. Embedded in the silver clasp was a tiny, blinking red light.
"But my brother taught me never to trust a man who smiles too much," Isabella said. "This is a recording device. It's been running since you put it on my neck three hours ago."
