Chapter 4 - THE RECEIPT
The interior of the SUV was silent except for the rhythmic thrum of the tires on the wet asphalt.
I clutched the velvet box against my chest, my mind spinning. The jeweler from Oak Street—the kind, elderly man who had shown me the microscopic X scratched onto the clasp—was holding a gun.
And Adrian’s dead father was sitting across from me, looking very much alive.
“You set her up,” I whispered, staring at the jeweler.
The old man lowered the pistol slightly, offering a polite, almost apologetic nod. “I merely provided a service, my dear. Vanessa requested a copy. I ensured the copy was distinguishable to a trained eye.”
“My trained eye.”
“Exactly,” Adrian’s father, Lorenzo, said smoothly. He leaned forward, the streetlights catching the sharp, patrician angles of his face. “We needed Vanessa exposed tonight. Publicly. Irrevocably. But Adrian would never have believed it if I had simply warned him. He needed to see her betrayal with his own eyes.”
I swallowed hard, the pieces violently clicking into place.
“You wanted her to steal the watch,” I realized.
“I wanted her to try,” Lorenzo corrected. “I needed Adrian to see that his fiancée was working for Carlo Falcone. But I couldn’t let her actually hand the watch over.”
Lorenzo held out his hand.
“You have it. Thank you for getting it out of the house. Now, give it to me.”
I looked at the velvet box in my hands.
Answer one, open two.
Lorenzo had manipulated the entire evening. He used Vanessa’s greed. He used my knowledge of jewelry. He used his own son’s trust. All to flush out Carlo Falcone and secure this antique watch.
“No,” I said.
The word hung in the air.
The jeweler raised his pistol again.
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“If this watch is so important that you faked your own death to protect it, I’m not just handing it over to a ghost in a dark car,” I said, my voice trembling but stubborn. “Adrian is back there fighting for his life. You left your son in a room full of gunmen.”
“Adrian is entirely capable of handling Carlo’s thugs,” Lorenzo said dismissively.
“They had automatic weapons!” I snapped. “If you care about him, turn the car around.”
Lorenzo stared at me. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed his face, followed by a dark, amused smile.
“You are remarkably brave for a housekeeper, Claire,” Lorenzo said. “But you misunderstand the situation. The watch contains the microdot. The microdot contains the offshore routing numbers for the entire syndicate. If Carlo gets it, my son’s empire falls. I am protecting Adrian.”
“By hiding?” I asked bitterly.
Lorenzo’s smile vanished. “By ensuring our enemies cannot leverage my existence against him.”
He reached across the seat and grabbed my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for an older man.
“Give me the box.”
I struggled, but he easily pulled the velvet box from my hands.
Lorenzo popped the lid open.
He froze.
The Reversal hit with terrifying silence.
The box was empty.
There was no silver pocket watch inside. Only a small, folded piece of paper.
Lorenzo snatched the paper and unfolded it.
I recognized the handwriting immediately. It was the same elegant script on the receipt I had pulled from my apron earlier.
The note was short.
Check your pocket, Dad.
Lorenzo’s face went completely pale.
He patted the breast pocket of his heavy coat.
He pulled out a heavy brass key with a black plastic head, stamped with a white number 3.
The copy of the study key.
“He knew,” Lorenzo whispered, staring at the key. “Adrian knew.”
Before anyone could speak, the SUV suddenly swerved violently.
The driver slammed on the brakes, throwing us all forward. Tires shrieked as the massive vehicle skidded to a halt.
I looked out the windshield.
Blocking the narrow street was a heavily armored black truck.
The back doors of the truck swung open.
Standing in the back, illuminated by floodlights, was Adrian Moretti.
May you like
He was holding an assault rifle. He looked battered, his suit torn, blood running down the side of his face. But his eyes were fixed entirely on the SUV.
“Get out of the car, Dad,” Adrian’s voice echoed over a megaphone. “And leave Claire alone.”
