Chapter 3 - THE SINS OF THE FATHER
The silence in the study was suffocating.
Luca’s grip on my arm was firm, keeping me anchored as the room spun.
“Your father?” Luca repeated, his dark eyes searching my face. “Your father gave this watch to mine?”
“No,” I whispered, staring at the tarnished silver in his hand. “My father was a baker. He died in a car accident when I was two years old. He didn't know billionaires. He didn't know mafia bosses.”
I looked desperately at Daniel.
The older man was leaning against the bookshelf, looking older and more fragile than I had ever seen him. He ran a hand over his face, letting out a ragged sigh.
“He didn't give the watch to Antonio, Emily,” Daniel said quietly. “Antonio gave it to him.”
Answer One.
But it only ripped open a massive, gaping hole in everything I knew about my family.
“Why?” Luca demanded, stepping toward his head of security. “Why would my father give a watch to Emily’s father? And why is her grandmother in a hidden photograph with the two of you?”
Open Two.
Daniel looked at the photograph still resting on the mahogany desk. His eyes filled with profound sorrow.
“Because, Luca,” Daniel said, his voice barely a rasp. “Your father didn't build this empire alone. And he didn't survive the war of '98 by himself.”
Daniel pointed to my grandmother in the photo.
“Her name was Rosa,” Daniel said softly. “She wasn't just a baker. She was the finest field medic the Chicago families ever had. When the rival families ambushed your father, he took three bullets to the chest. The hospitals were watched. If we took him in, he would have been finished off.”
I stared at him, my mind reeling. My sweet, gentle grandmother? A mob doctor?
“Rosa hid him in her basement,” Daniel continued, his eyes locked on mine. “She performed surgery on a kitchen table. She saved his life. And in return, Antonio swore a blood oath to protect her and her son, Gabriel. Your father.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. “My mother never told me. She just told me Grandma was a nurse.”
“Your mother likely doesn't know the whole truth,” Daniel said gently.
Luca looked down at the watch in his hand. His jaw tightened.
“If my father gave this to Gabriel, why is it back in this safe?” Luca asked. “And why did Vanessa’s father send armed men to steal it tonight?”
Daniel hesitated. He looked toward the heavy oak doors, as if expecting Vanessa’s men to burst through.
“Because, Luca,” Daniel whispered. “It’s not just a watch.”
Daniel stepped forward. He reached out and gently took the silver timepiece from Luca’s hand.
With a practiced motion, Daniel pressed the winding stem on top, but he didn't pull it up. Instead, he twisted it counter-clockwise exactly three times, then pressed down hard.
A sharp click echoed in the quiet room.
The back casing of the watch popped open.
I gasped.
It wasn't a clock mechanism inside. The entire inside was hollowed out.
Resting in the velvet-lined cavity was a tiny, intricately carved brass key.
“Vanessa’s father, Carlo, doesn't care about the watch,” Daniel said, his voice turning bitter. “He cares about what this key opens.”
“Which is what?” Luca demanded, his authority returning, sharp and absolute.
“A safety deposit box in a private Swiss bank,” Daniel said. “Inside that box is Antonio’s ledger. The real one. The one that proves Carlo Bellini didn't just steal from the family—he orchestrated the hit in '98 that almost killed your father.”
Luca went completely still.
The air in the room turned to ice.
“Carlo ordered the hit on my father?” Luca whispered, the words dripping with lethal precision.
“Yes,” Daniel said.
Luca turned sharply toward the door, his eyes blazing with a fury so intense it made me step back.
“And Vanessa knew,” Luca said, his voice vibrating with rage. “She knew her father tried to kill mine, and she was trying to steal the evidence to protect him.”
“Luca, wait,” Daniel urged, stepping forward.
But Luca was already moving. He yanked the heavy oak doors open and stormed down the hallway toward the guest wing, where Vanessa was locked away.
I ran after him, my heels clicking frantically against the marble floor. Daniel was right behind me.
“Mr. Moretti, please!” I cried out, terrified of what he might do.
Luca reached the guest room. He didn't bother with the key. He kicked the door open with a resounding crash that splintered the wood.
Vanessa jumped back, screaming. She was clutching her phone to her chest.
“Who were you calling?” Luca roared, snatching the phone from her hands.
“Nobody!” she sobbed, backing into the corner. “Luca, please!”
Luca looked at the screen. The call had just connected.
He put it on speaker.
A deep, gravelly voice echoed from the device. “Vanessa? Did you get the key from the study?”
It was Carlo Bellini.
Luca stared at Vanessa, his eyes dead and cold.
“No, Carlo,” Luca spoke into the phone. “She didn't.”
Silence on the other end. Then, Carlo chuckled darkly.
“Luca. My boy. It’s a shame it had to come to this. I was looking forward to the wedding.”
“I know what you did in '98, Carlo,” Luca said, his voice a lethal whisper. “If you step foot near my property, I will end you.”
“I don't need to step on your property,” Carlo replied smoothly. “I just need the key. And I think you’re going to give it to me.”
“You have nothing I care about,” Luca said.
“Don't I?” Carlo asked.
Suddenly, my heart stopped.
From the phone speaker, I heard a sound in the background. A muffled, terrified scream.
It was a woman’s voice. A voice I knew better than my own.
“Mom?” I choked out, stumbling forward.
“Ah, the little housemaid,” Carlo said through the phone. “Listen closely, Luca. Bring the watch to the old rail yard in one hour. Or Emily’s mother is going to have a very tragic accident.”
The line went dead.
I collapsed to my knees on the hardwood floor, a sob ripping through my throat.
May you like
Luca stood perfectly still, his knuckles white around the phone. He looked down at me, and in his eyes, I saw a terrifying promise.
But before he could speak, a massive explosion shook the mansion, shattering the bedroom windows and throwing us all to the floor.
