Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO HELD THE SILVER WATCH
Grace’s small finger wasn’t aimed at Vanessa.
It was pointing directly at the man sitting at the opposite end of the long dining table.
Marcus Moretti.
Luca’s older brother. The man who had managed the family’s legitimate businesses for a decade. The uncle who brought Grace pastries every Sunday morning.
The dining room fell into a suffocating silence.
Marcus slowly set his wine glass down. His face didn’t show panic. It showed a profound, exhausting sadness.
“Grace,” Marcus said, his voice gentle. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?”
Luca didn’t look at his brother. He stayed kneeling beside his daughter, his eyes locked on her trembling frame.
“Grace,” Luca asked, his voice steady but carrying a dangerous edge. “Was Uncle Marcus on the stairs with Mommy?”
Grace nodded. She clutched her grandmother Eleanor’s hand.
“He was holding her arm,” Grace whispered. “Mommy was crying. She told him to let go.”
Vanessa let out a sharp, breathless laugh. “Luca, this is insane. Marcus wasn’t even in the house that night. He was in New York. We all know that.”
“Shut up, Vanessa,” Luca said. He didn’t raise his voice, but the command cut through the room like shattered glass.
He finally stood up and turned to his brother.
“Marcus. Were you in Chicago the night my wife died?”
Marcus didn’t answer immediately. He reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a heavy silver pocket watch. It was a family heirloom, passed down from their father. I had seen him check it a hundred times, but tonight, his hands were shaking as he placed it on the table.
“I was,” Marcus said.
A collective gasp swept through the thirty-eight guests.
Vanessa’s face lost all its color. “Marcus, what are you doing?” she hissed.
“Telling the truth,” Marcus replied, staring only at Luca. “I came back a day early. Catherine called me. She was terrified, Luca. She said she had found something in the family accounts. Something that was going to destroy you.”
I stood frozen behind Eleanor’s chair. I could feel the old woman’s frail body trembling against my arm.
“She found out about the missing money,” Marcus continued. “I went to the house to calm her down. I met her at the top of the stairs.”
“And you pushed her,” Eleanor choked out, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks.
“No!” Marcus slammed his hand on the table. “I tried to save her! She was backing away from me, and she slipped. I grabbed her arm to pull her back, but the fabric of her sleeve tore. She fell, Luca. I swear on our father’s grave, it was an accident.”
Luca took a step toward his brother. The absolute betrayal in his eyes was terrifying.
“You watched my wife die. You watched me bury her. And you let me believe I was the one who left a toy on the stairs that tripped her.”
Marcus bowed his head. “I knew how it would look. The money was missing. We were arguing. I panicked.”
It made terrifying sense. The missing money, the argument, the torn sleeve.
But then Grace pulled on my apron.
She looked up at me, her big brown eyes wide with confusion.
“Emily,” she whispered loudly enough for the silent room to hear. “Why is Uncle Marcus lying?”
Luca stopped dead. “What do you mean, Grace?”
Grace pointed at the silver watch on the table.
“Uncle Marcus wasn’t the one fighting with Mommy,” she said. “Uncle Marcus was at the bottom of the stairs. He was yelling at the person at the top.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Answer one: Marcus was there.
Open two: Who was he yelling at? And why did he take the blame?
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Grace looked at her father. “He was yelling at the lady with the shiny bracelet.”
TITLE: The Shadow With The Shiny Bracelet
