Chapter 7 - THE HANDS ON THE WATCH
The air in the panic room felt suddenly much colder.
We all stared at the shattered gold pocket watch. 11:42 PM. The exact minute Antonio Moretti’s heart had stopped beating.
“Why would my father’s watch be locked in a panic box, broken exactly at the time of his death?” Luca asked, his voice tight with confusion.
Teresa shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don't know. He wasn't wearing it when I found him in the bedroom. I thought it was lost.”
Sofia carefully picked up the leather-bound diary from the box. She opened the cover. Her eyes scanned the first page, and she gasped.
“Luca,” Sofia breathed, her hands trembling. “This isn't just a diary. It’s a ledger of confessions. Dad wrote everything down.”
Luca took the diary from her, holding his phone light close to the yellowed pages. He began to read aloud, his voice growing colder with every word.
“Vittorio came to me today. He is desperate. He knows I discovered his shipping routes are bankrupt. He begged for a loan, but I refused. I cannot allow his rot to infect the Moretti empire. I told him I would sever all ties tomorrow. I fear what he might do. He is a coward, but cowards are dangerous when cornered.”
Luca looked up. “He was planning to cut Victor off. That’s why Victor broke into the room that night.”
He turned the page.
“I feel my heart weakening. The doctors say it is only a matter of time. But I cannot die yet. Not until I secure the future for Luca and Sofia. I must protect them from the vultures. Especially from her.”
Vanessa, who had been sobbing quietly on the floor, suddenly went completely still.
“Her?” I asked softly.
Luca’s eyes darted to the next page. He read in silence for a moment. As he read, his face drained of color. He looked up, his gaze locking onto Vanessa with a horrifying realization.
“My father didn't die of a natural heart attack,” Luca said, his voice eerily hollow. “And Victor didn't kill him.”
He turned the diary toward us.
“My father was poisoned.”
Teresa let out a sharp wail, covering her mouth. “Poisoned? By who?”
“The digitalis,” Luca read aloud, tracing the ink. “I found the digitalis powder in my evening tea. I knew the taste. I knew she had swapped my medication. I confronted her. She laughed. She said the empire needed new blood.”
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“Vanessa,” Luca whispered. “You were in the house that night. You were staying in the guest wing because your father was negotiating the merger.”
Vanessa scrambled backward, pressing her back against the cold steel wall.
“No! No, Luca, it’s a lie! Your father hated me! He wrote that to frame me!”
“You poisoned him,” Sofia snarled, stepping toward her, her eyes blazing with fury. “You wanted him dead so Luca would take over the company, making it easier for you and your bankrupt father to manipulate him into marriage!”
“Victor told me to do it!” Vanessa screamed, finally breaking under the weight of the truth. She curled into a pathetic ball on the floor. “Victor said Antonio was going to cut my family off! We were going to lose everything! Victor provided the poison. I just put it in his tea!”
The absolute, sickening reality of the night Antonio died was finally exposed.
Answer: Vanessa had poisoned Antonio’s tea to secure her marriage to Luca and save her family from bankruptcy, orchestrated by Victor. Victor had broken in later, cowardly stealing the blackmail documents and leaving the dying man to his fate, taking the rosary as proof of his deed.
Open: If Antonio knew he was poisoned, why did he lock the broken watch in the panic room instead of calling an ambulance or his security?
“Why didn't Dad call for help?” Luca asked the empty air, staring at the shattered watch. “Why come down here to hide a box?”
I looked closely at the gold pocket watch in Luca’s hand. The glass was shattered, the hands frozen at 11:42.
But the back casing of the watch was slightly ajar.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, pointing to the watch. “The back is open.”
Luca turned the heavy gold piece over. He wedged his thumbnail under the small groove and popped the back casing completely off.
A tiny, tightly rolled piece of paper fell out into his palm.
He unrolled it.
It was a set of coordinates. Longitude and latitude. And below the coordinates was a single, terrifying sentence written in Antonio’s shaking handwriting.
“The poison is slow. I cannot survive. But I have ensured Victor and the Bellinis will never touch the true wealth. The gold is not in the banks. It is buried here.”
Sofia gasped. “The gold?”
“The syndicate’s emergency reserves,” Luca realized, his eyes wide. “Billions of dollars in untraceable gold bullion. Everyone thought it was a myth. Dad moved it before he died to keep it out of Victor’s hands.”
Teresa wept softly. “He sacrificed his last moments to protect us. He didn't call an ambulance because he knew they would interrogate the staff, and the truth might leak before the gold was secured.”
The immense, agonizing sacrifice of a father trying to protect his children hung heavily in the small steel room.
Suddenly, a loud, metallic grinding noise echoed from above.
The ceiling of the panic room vibrated violently. Dust showered down on us.
“They’re drilling through the steel!” Sofia yelled over the noise.
“Victor’s men,” Luca said grimly. “They know we’re in here. They’re trying to breach the door.”
“We have to get that lever open!” I yelled, running to the rusted iron bar on the wall.
Luca joined me. He grabbed the lever with both hands, his muscles straining to their absolute limits. I grabbed it beneath him, pulling with all my strength. Sofia added her weight, desperate to escape.
“Pull!” Luca roared.
The drilling sound above grew deafening. A spark of white-hot plasma cut through the ceiling panel. They were using a blowtorch.
With a final, agonizing heave, the rusted gears inside the wall snapped.
The iron lever slammed downward.
A section of the floor beneath us suddenly dropped, revealing a dark, spiraling stone staircase leading down into the earth. The smell of damp soil and lake water rushed up to meet us.
“Go! Go!” Luca shouted, pushing Teresa gently toward the stairs.
I helped the old woman navigate the steep stone steps. Sofia followed, dragging a sobbing Vanessa by the collar of her ruined evening gown.
Luca was the last to descend. Just as he stepped onto the stairs, the plasma torch broke through the ceiling of the panic room. A beam of blinding light shot into the space, followed by the sound of heavy boots hitting the steel floor above.
Luca slammed the hidden trapdoor shut above us, plunging us into absolute darkness once again.
We stumbled blindly down the narrow, spiraling tunnel. The air grew colder and damper with every step. I could hear the faint, distant sound of waves crashing against a shore.
“We’re under the lake,” Luca said, using his phone light to guide us. “The tunnel exits at the old boathouse.”
We ran for what felt like miles. My lungs burned, and Teresa was wheezing heavily, leaning all her weight on me.
Finally, the tunnel opened up into a cavernous, wooden-beamed structure. The smell of algae and gasoline was overwhelming.
We had reached the boathouse.
A sleek, vintage wooden speedboat was moored in the dark water, gently bobbing in the current.
“Get in the boat,” Luca ordered, helping his mother aboard.
But as I stepped onto the wooden dock, the heavy boathouse doors suddenly crashed open.
Blinding halogen lights flooded the space.
May you like
Standing on the dock, blocking our exit to the lake, were three heavily armed men in black tactical gear.
And stepping out from behind them, holding the bloody, snub-nosed revolver, was Victor.
