Chapter 2 - THE GOLD WATCH ON THE STAIRS
Adrian didn't ask Peter for the key.
He didn't ask Evelyn for permission.
He stepped back, raised his right foot, and drove his heel directly into the brass doorknob.
The heavy wood splintered.
The painted seal cracked.
The door swung inward with a painful groan, revealing a dark, narrow staircase descending into the shadows.
The air inside smelled of dust and damp stone.
But it wasn't untouched.
Adrian reached out and flipped the light switch on the wall.
A single bulb flickered to life.
The wooden steps were covered in a thick layer of dust.
Except for the top three steps.
There were clear, wide scuff marks. The kind made by someone dragging a heavy weight.
Adrian looked down at his mother.
Teresa’s chest was heaving. Her left hand gripped the armrest of her wheelchair so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Mom,” Adrian whispered. “Did they drag you back up these stairs?”
One tap.
Peter took another step backward toward the kitchen exit.
“Adrian, listen to me. She had a medical episode. She fell. We had to move her out of sight before the paramedics arrived to protect the family’s privacy.”
“Privacy?” Adrian repeated. His voice was terrifyingly calm.
He stepped onto the first stair.
He looked down at the scuff marks.
Then, his eyes caught a glint of metal wedged in the corner of the second step.
He knelt.
He pulled it free.
It was a heavy, gold pocket watch.
The chain was broken.
Adrian turned it over in his palm. The back was engraved with three initials: E. M. C.
Evelyn Mercer’s maiden name was Evelyn Mercer Crane.
Adrian slowly stood.
He turned to face the caregiver.
“You told the hospital you weren't in the house when my mother fell.”
Evelyn’s face drained of color.
“I wasn't. That watch was stolen from my purse months ago.”
“Was it?”
“Yes!”
Nora stood perfectly still beside the wheelchair.
She looked at Teresa.
The elderly woman was tapping her finger frantically against the wood.
Two taps. Two taps. Two taps.
“She’s saying no,” Nora said quietly.
Evelyn spun toward the young maid.
“Shut your mouth! You are a housekeeper! You know nothing about this family!”
Adrian moved faster than anyone expected.
He crossed the kitchen in three strides, grabbed Evelyn by the collar of her expensive blouse, and pinned her against the stainless-steel refrigerator.
“Don't ever raise your voice to the woman who gave my mother her voice back,” Adrian hissed.
Evelyn gasped for air.
“Adrian... please...”
“You were on those stairs,” Adrian said, pressing the gold watch against her collarbone. “You didn't find her at the bottom. You pushed her from the top.”
Peter lunged forward.
“Adrian, stop! If you hurt her, the deal falls apart!”
Adrian froze.
He didn't release Evelyn. He just turned his head.
“What deal?”
Peter realized his mistake instantly. He covered his mouth.
But it was too late.
Teresa tapped the armrest once. Loudly.
Then, with a shaking hand, she reached into the pocket of her blue cardigan.
She pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.
She handed it to Nora.
Nora unfolded it.
It was a printed bank receipt.
It showed a wire transfer of five million dollars from the Falcone family trust.
The money had been moved the exact morning of Teresa’s stroke.
“Mr. Falcone,” Nora whispered, handing him the paper. “Your mother didn't just fall. She caught them stealing.”
Adrian looked at the receipt.
The receiving account didn't belong to Peter or Evelyn.
It belonged to the Rossi family—the Falcones’ oldest and deadliest rivals in Chicago.
Adrian let go of Evelyn.
She crumpled to the floor, coughing.
“You aren't stealing from me,” Adrian realized, looking at Peter. “You’re paying them off. Why?”
Before Peter could answer, the kitchen door swung open.
Three men in dark suits stepped into the room.
They weren't Adrian’s security guards.
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And the man leading them was holding a suppressed pistol directly at Adrian’s chest.
TITLE: THE MEN IN THE KITCHEN
