Chapter 3 - THE SILVER POCKET WATCH
The entire dining room plunged into a suffocating, terrifying silence.
That’s the man who drives your car.
I stared at the photograph again. My mind raced. The man with the scar wasn’t a street thug. He was Marco. Matteo’s newly appointed head driver and personal bodyguard. A man who had total access to the Romano family. A man who carried Matteo’s deepest secrets.
Reversal: Bianca wasn't working with an outsider to destroy the Romanos. The threat was already living inside the house.
Matteo’s expression didn't change, but his voice dropped to a low, dangerous register that made the fine crystal on the table vibrate.
“Lock the doors,” he commanded.
Instantly, the four armed guards standing at the corners of the room moved. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut. The deadbolts clicked. Thirty-five guests were now sealed inside with a furious mafia boss.
Clara pulled Leo back into her arms, shielding him. “Matteo, what is going on? Why is Marco in that picture with Bianca?”
Matteo looked at his fiancée.
Bianca was trapped. She backed away from the table, her diamond necklace trembling against her collarbone. “Matteo, please. Marco approached me! He said you were in danger. He gave me that container for your own protection!”
“Liar,” I said.
The word slipped from my mouth before my brain could stop it.
Thirty-five heads snapped toward me. The invisible maid had spoken again.
Bianca turned to me, her eyes filled with pure venom. “Shut your mouth, you little peasant.”
I didn't back down. I looked directly at Matteo.
“If it was for your protection, sir, she wouldn't have waited until the kitchen was empty to put it on your cake. And she wouldn't have tested it on your five-year-old nephew last week.”
Matteo stepped around the table. He walked slowly toward Bianca.
“Where is Marco?” he asked her.
“I don’t know!” Bianca cried, tears finally spilling down her flawless cheeks. “He told me he had an errand tonight. That’s all I swear!”
Answer One: Marco was the mastermind, using Bianca to execute the poisonings from the inside.
But Open Two: Where was Marco right now? And why was he trying to wipe out the Romano bloodline?
Matteo turned to his head of security, a massive man named Vince.
“Find Marco. Tear the estate apart. Don't come back without him.”
Vince nodded and unlocked one of the doors, slipping out into the hallway.
Matteo looked down at the photograph again, then over at Bianca’s purse, which was resting on an empty chair.
Without asking permission, Matteo grabbed the designer bag and dumped its contents onto the pristine white tablecloth.
Lipstick. A compact mirror. A silk handkerchief.
And a heavy, antique silver pocket watch.
Matteo froze.
He stared at the watch as if it were a ghost.
I knew that watch. I dusted Matteo’s study every Tuesday. That silver pocket watch belonged to Matteo’s late father. It was the symbol of the Romano family head. Matteo kept it locked in a biometric safe that only he could open.
“Why do you have my father’s watch, Bianca?” Matteo asked, his voice dead hollow.
Bianca shook her head, genuine confusion mixing with her terror. “I… I don't know! I’ve never seen that before! Someone must have put it in my purse!”
I stepped closer to the table, looking at the silver timepiece. I noticed a small piece of dark fabric caught in the chain.
I reached out and pulled it free.
It wasn't just fabric. It was a torn piece of a security uniform.
“Sir,” I whispered, holding up the fabric. “This didn't come from Marco.”
Matteo looked at the fabric, then at the door Vince had just walked through.
Reversal: Marco wasn't the only traitor.
Suddenly, a deafening gunshot echoed from the hallway outside.
Then, a woman screamed.
Matteo pulled his weapon.
He kicked the dining room doors open.
And lying on the marble floor of the hallway, bleeding from a shoulder wound, was Vince.
But that wasn't what made my blood run cold.
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Standing over him, holding a smoking gun, was Marco.
And Marco had his other arm wrapped tightly around the throat of little Leo.
