Chapter 4 - THE GOLD WATCH
“You’re lying,” Adrian snarled, stepping forward to grab her.
I put my hand on my son’s chest, stopping him.
“Let her speak,” I said, never taking my eyes off the gold watch.
Vincenzo had carried this watch every day of his life. He told me he would be buried with it. But when his body was returned to us, the watch was missing.
“Vincenzo died in that hospital bed,” I said to Victoria. “He was unconscious.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Victoria said, her voice shaking. “He woke up. Just for a few minutes.”
She looked at Adrian, fear radiating from her eyes.
“I was checking his IV. He grabbed my wrist. His grip was so strong. He knew he was dying, Adrian. He knew his heart was giving out.”
“And he just decided to give a random nurse his prized possession?” Adrian asked mockingly.
“He didn't just give it to me,” Victoria cried. “He gave it to me to hide! He told me there was a traitor in his inner circle. Someone who was slowly poisoning him to trigger the heart attack.”
The room spun.
Poisoned.
My husband hadn't just died of old age. He was murdered.
“My father would have told his men,” Adrian argued.
“He couldn't trust his men!” Victoria yelled back. “He told me the traitor was the one who managed the hospital payroll. The traitor had already isolated him. Vincenzo took off the watch and forced it into my hands. He told me to find his wife. To find you, Eleanor.”
I felt a lump in my throat. “But you never came to me.”
Victoria looked down at her hands.
“I tried. When my shift ended, I walked to the parking garage. But the traitor was waiting for me. He saw me come out of Vincenzo’s room. He took me at gunpoint.”
She choked on a sob.
“He took my little boy, Eleanor. He took Leo to ensure my silence. He forced me to steal the briefcase from the evidence locker. And then, he forced me to become Victoria.”
“Who?” Adrian roared, losing his patience. “Give me a name!”
“I can’t!”
“I can.”
We all froze.
The voice came from the doorway.
Sofia.
The young maid stood there, no longer trembling.
She had dropped her cleaning rag.
Her posture was straight, her eyes dark and filled with a burning hatred I had never seen in her before.
She walked over to the hall closet and pulled out a heavy wool coat.
It was a men’s coat. Expensive. Custom-tailored.
Sofia walked to the dining table and threw the coat down next to the photograph and the baggage ticket.
“That coat belongs to your consigliere, Adrian,” Sofia said. “Julian.”
Adrian stared at her. “Julian is my best friend. He’s been my right hand for ten years.”
Sofia reached into the pocket of the heavy wool coat.
May you like
She pulled out a small, folded piece of paper and handed it to Adrian.
“Then ask your best friend,” Sofia said coldly, “why he’s been paying your fiancée a hundred thousand dollars a month from an offshore account.”
