Chapter 2 - THE KEYS TO THE PAST
Luca’s eyes locked onto Vanessa’s pale face.
The silence in the dining room was so heavy I could hear the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Fifty wealthy guests held their breath.
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
“Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet register. “Who told your father what was inside that study?”
Vanessa’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Her red satin gown, which had looked so elegant twenty minutes ago, now seemed suffocating. She looked frantically toward the two men in black suits standing near the doors.
But they weren't looking at her.
They were staring at Luca’s personal guards, who had already stepped forward, their hands resting subtly inside their jackets.
“I didn't…” Vanessa stammered, stepping back until her heels hit a chair. “Luca, I swear to you, I don't know what’s in that room.”
“But your father does,” Luca replied, stepping closer to her.
His dark eyes were relentless. “My father has been dead for five years. That room has been sealed. And now, on the exact night you try to publicly humiliate and fire the only man with the keys, your father’s men just happen to walk through my front doors to empty it?”
Vanessa swallowed hard. “He just asked me to clear the way. That’s all. He said it was for our future.”
Daniel stepped forward, his weathered face tight with anger.
“Your father doesn't care about your future, Vanessa. He cares about leverage.”
Luca turned to the two men by the doors.
“Empty your pockets,” he commanded. “Now.”
The men hesitated. One of them shifted his weight, a dangerous glint in his eye.
In a flash, Luca’s guards drew their weapons. The metallic clicks echoed through the grand dining room, causing several guests to gasp and shrink back in their chairs.
“Do it,” Luca ordered softly.
Slowly, the men raised their hands. One of them reached into his coat and tossed a heavy ring of iron keys onto the marble floor.
They clattered loudly, coming to a rest near my feet.
I looked down. They weren't modern keys. They were antique, rusted iron.
Daniel’s breath hitched. “Those are the master keys to the basement archives. How did they get those?”
“I gave them to him,” Vanessa whispered, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “My father said they belonged to him. He said Antonio stole them.”
Luca stared at the woman he was supposed to marry. The disappointment in his eyes was absolute.
“Lock her in the guest wing,” Luca told his men, not looking away from Vanessa. “Nobody leaves this house. Lorenzo, you stay here and ensure our guests remain seated. Daniel, Emily… come with me.”
I froze. “Me, sir?”
“You understand Italian, Emily,” Luca said, his tone softening just a fraction as he looked at my wine-stained uniform. “And you’re the only person in this room I know for a fact isn’t lying to me tonight. Come.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as I followed Luca and Daniel out of the dining room.
We walked down the long, dimly lit hallway toward the east wing. The air grew colder the further we went from the warmth of the banquet hall.
We stopped in front of heavy oak doors.
Daniel pulled a single, golden key from a chain around his neck. His hands were shaking.
“Luca,” Daniel whispered. “Once I open this, we can't unsee what's inside. Your father protected you from this for a reason.”
“Open it, Daniel.”
The lock clicked. The heavy doors groaned as Daniel pushed them open.
The study smelled of old paper, leather, and stale cigar smoke. It was perfectly preserved, a time capsule from the night Antonio Moretti died.
Luca walked straight to the massive mahogany desk. He didn't search for money. He didn't look for weapons.
He pressed a hidden button beneath the center drawer.
A panel on the bookshelf slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a small steel safe.
Daniel punched in a code. The safe clicked open.
Inside, there was no cash. No ledgers.
There was only a faded wooden box.
Luca carefully lifted it and placed it on the desk. He opened the latch.
Inside rested an old, tarnished silver pocket watch, and a single black-and-white photograph.
Luca picked up the photograph. He frowned, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.
“Daniel,” Luca said, his voice trembling slightly. “Why is my father posing with you… and a woman I don't recognize?”
Daniel looked at the photo. The blood completely drained from his face.
He looked away, his eyes squeezing shut.
I stepped closer, drawn by a strange, magnetic pull. I looked over Luca’s shoulder at the photograph.
The air left my lungs.
The woman standing between Antonio Moretti and Daniel Russo was smiling brightly, wearing a simple floral dress.
“That’s…” I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.
Luca turned to me sharply. “You know her?”
“That’s my grandmother,” I whispered, tears suddenly burning my eyes. “But she died before I was born. Why is she in your father's safe?”
Luca looked from me to Daniel.
But before Daniel could answer, Luca picked up the silver pocket watch. He turned it over.
On the back, an inscription was engraved in the tarnished metal.
Luca read it aloud. “To Gabriel. For the life you saved.”
My knees went weak. I grabbed the edge of the desk to stop myself from falling.
“Emily?” Luca asked, reaching out to steady me. “What is it?”
May you like
I looked up at him, my vision blurring with tears.
“Gabriel,” I choked out, pointing a trembling finger at the watch. “Gabriel is my father’s name.”
