Chapter 3 - The Ticking Man
The backstage area was entirely silent, save for the muffled applause of the gala still echoing from the ballroom.
Roman Bellini stared at my ten-year-old daughter, the heavy silver pocket watch resting in his large palm.
“The ticking man?” Roman repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper. He knelt back down, bringing himself to Lily’s eye level. “Lily, sweetheart, what do you mean by the ticking man?”
Lily looked at me nervously, sensing the sudden, heavy tension in the air. I squeezed her hand, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said softly. “Tell Mr. Bellini what you mean.”
Lily looked back at the cracked silver watch.
“I saw a man holding it,” Lily explained, her voice small but clear. “A long time ago. Before Daddy died. A man came to our apartment late at night. He was yelling at Daddy in the kitchen. I was supposed to be asleep, but I peeked through the door.”
Roman didn’t move a muscle. “What did the man look like, Lily?”
“He was wearing a fancy suit,” she said, her brow furrowing in thought. “And he kept tossing that watch in the air and catching it. Tick-tick-tick. That’s why I called him the ticking man. He told Daddy that if he didn’t fix the numbers, bad things would happen.”
My blood ran cold.
My husband, David, had been a mid-level accountant for a logistics firm. He had died three years ago in a horrific hit-and-run accident on a rainy Tuesday night. The police said he lost control on a slick curve. The driver who hit him was never found.
“Fix the numbers?” Roman asked, casting a sharp glance up at me. “Grace, what firm did your husband work for?”
“Southside Logistics,” I said, my voice trembling.
Roman closed his eyes, a muscle feathering in his jaw. When he opened them, the realization was terrifying. “Southside Logistics is a shell company. It’s owned by the Bellini syndicate. My brother Matteo runs it.”
The pieces crashed together in my mind, forming a picture so horrifying I couldn’t breathe.
David hadn’t just been an accountant. He had been working for the mafia. He had been working for Matteo.
“Did the ticking man have a scar on his hand?” Roman asked Lily gently.
Lily nodded quickly. “Yes! A white line right here.” She traced a line across her own small knuckle.
Matteo had a scar on his right hand from a hunting accident when he was a teenager.
Roman stood up slowly. His hand closed around the silver watch in a white-knuckled grip. The watch that had belonged to his late father. The watch that had supposedly been lost five years ago.
“Matteo was in your apartment,” Roman said, his voice terrifyingly flat. “He was threatening your husband to fix the ledgers. And now, Matteo’s signature is behind a forged check meant for your daughter.”
“Why?” I cried, panic rising in my chest. “Why would he steal from a children’s charity? He’s a millionaire!”
“Because Matteo has a gambling problem,” Roman said coldly. “A problem he thought I didn’t know about. He’s been bleeding my accounts dry, and he must have been using the charity foundation to launder the stolen money.”
Suddenly, the heavy velvet curtain was pushed aside.
Matteo stood there, flanked by two of his personal security guards. His tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned, and his eyes darted nervously between Roman, me, and the watch in Roman’s hand.
“Roman,” Matteo said, forcing a smile. “The mayor is asking for you at table four. We need to do the press photos.”
Roman didn’t move. He simply stared at his younger brother.
“Did you drop this, Matteo?” Roman asked, holding up the cracked silver watch.
Matteo’s face drained of color. He took a step back, bumping into his own guard. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s Dad’s watch. It’s been gone for years.”
“It was behind the curtain,” Roman said, stepping closer. “Right where you were standing ten minutes ago when you told the stage manager to cross Lily’s name off the list. It must have fallen out of your pocket.”
“It’s not mine!” Matteo snapped, his voice pitching higher. “The maid probably stole it! She’s a thief, Roman! First the grant money, now family heirlooms!”
I pulled Lily behind my back, shielding her from Matteo’s venom. “I didn’t steal anything! I didn’t even work for your family when your father died!”
Roman raised a hand, silencing the room.
“Matteo,” Roman said, his voice echoing with the absolute authority of a mob boss. “You went to David Miller’s apartment three years ago. You threatened him. You forced him to cook the books for Southside Logistics, and when he couldn’t cover your gambling debts anymore... what did you do?”
Matteo’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He looked at the two guards behind him.
“Take her,” Matteo ordered, pointing a shaking finger directly at me.
Before I could react, one of the guards lunged forward, grabbing my arm and violently twisting it behind my back. I screamed, dropping to my knees. Lily shrieked, grabbing my uniform to try and pull me away.
“Get your hands off her!” Roman roared.
Roman moved faster than I thought possible for a man in a tailored suit. He grabbed the guard by the throat, slamming him backward into the brick wall of the stage wing with a sickening crunch. The guard slumped to the floor, unconscious.
The second guard reached inside his jacket, going for his weapon.
Roman didn’t hesitate. He drew a sleek black pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it directly at the guard’s chest.
“Touch the gun,” Roman whispered, “and you die tonight.”
The guard slowly raised his hands, stepping away from Matteo.
Matteo was backed against the stage door, sweating profusely. “Roman, you’re choosing a maid over your own blood? You’re insane!”
“My blood doesn’t steal from children,” Roman said, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fire. “My blood doesn’t murder accountants to cover up their gambling debts.”
“I didn’t kill him!” Matteo shouted desperately. “David was going to the police! He was going to expose the shell company! I had to run his car off the road to protect the family!”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
My husband was murdered. The car crash wasn’t an accident. Matteo had killed Lily’s father.
I let out a raw, broken sob, burying my face in Lily’s hair as she cried against my chest.
Roman stared at his brother, the betrayal cracking his stony facade for just a fraction of a second. Then, it hardened into pure ice.
“Get out of my sight,” Roman said, his gun still raised. “Before I kill you myself.”
Matteo sneered. “You can’t run the syndicate without me. The Commission won’t allow you to banish your own brother over a nobody.”
Matteo turned and fled through the back exit, the remaining guard scrambling after him.
Roman slowly lowered his weapon. He holstered it, then turned to me. The anger vanished from his face, replaced by a deep, profound sorrow.
He knelt on the floor beside us, wrapping his large arms around both me and Lily.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” he whispered into my hair. “I promise you, on my life, he will pay for what he did to your family.”
I held onto Roman’s lapel, sobbing uncontrollably.
But as Lily cried against my chest, she reached into the pocket of her sparkly blue dress.
“Mom,” Lily whimpered, pulling something out. “When the bad man grabbed you... he dropped this on the floor.”
She held out her small, trembling hand.
Resting on her palm was a thick, brass key.
May you like
Engraved on the metal was the logo for the First National Bank, and the number 402.
It was a safe deposit box key.
