Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH BENEATH THE DESK
Daniel’s face drained of color under the dining room chandeliers.
Thirty-eight guests sat frozen, their expensive wine forgotten.
Gabriel didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The quiet danger in his tone was enough to make the room drop ten degrees.
“I asked you a question, Daniel. Why is the girl our father swore us to protect cleaning my floors?”
Daniel gripped the back of his chair. “Gabriel, Mom is confused. Her memory—”
“Do not insult my mother,” Gabriel interrupted, his voice like crushed glass. He turned to me. “Claire. The photograph. Where is it?”
My hands shook. I reached into the pocket of my uniform apron and pulled out the folded, faded image.
Isabella lunged forward. “Gabriel, this is absurd! You’re listening to a maid over your own family!”
“Step back, Claire,” Gabriel said softly.
He took the photograph from my trembling fingers. He studied the image of his late father standing in front of a brick house, next to a young woman holding a baby. He turned it over.
SHE MUST NEVER KNOW.
Gabriel’s eyes locked onto the handwriting. “This is Dad’s writing. And this woman…” He looked up at me. “This is your mother. The one currently in the hospital.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes, Mr. Moretti. That’s my mother, Sarah.”
Daniel stepped around the table. “Gabriel, Dad had an affair. That’s what he was hiding. He paid Sarah to keep quiet. I was only protecting Mom from the truth!”
A murmur rippled through the guests. Margaret let out a soft, broken gasp.
“An affair?” Gabriel murmured. He looked closely at the photograph again. “If it was just an affair, Daniel, why did he drain his personal trust to leave her four hundred and eighty thousand dollars?”
Isabella crossed her arms. “Hush money, obviously. Daniel did the right thing intercepting it.”
“Intercepting it?” Gabriel’s dark eyes snapped to his fiancée. “You knew about this?”
Isabella realized her mistake too late. She stepped back, her burgundy gown suddenly looking less like royalty and more like a target.
“Daniel told me in confidence,” she stammered. “We were going to use the money to ensure Margaret had the best care at the facility.”
“You stole my father’s money to lock my mother in a nursing home,” Gabriel stated, the absolute stillness in his body terrifying everyone in the room.
He looked at me. “Claire, how much are your mother’s medical bills?”
“Sixty thousand dollars, sir. I’ve been working night shifts to pay them off.”
Gabriel looked at Daniel. His own brother.
“You let this girl scrub our floors while her mother fought for her life, knowing she was entitled to half a million dollars.”
Daniel wiped sweat from his forehead. “Gabriel, you don’t understand. It’s not just the money. Sarah wasn’t just a mistress.”
Daniel pointed a shaking finger at me.
“Look at her wrist, Gabriel! Look at what she’s wearing!”
Gabriel turned to me. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
I slowly pulled back the cuff of my maid’s uniform.
Resting against my skin was a heavy, silver watch. A man’s watch.
May you like
Gabriel stopped breathing.
“That’s Dad’s watch,” Gabriel whispered. “The one he lost the night he died.”
