Chapter 3 - THE DOCTOR'S POCKET WATCH
“What did you just say?” Luca’s voice was dangerously low, a calm storm threatening to break.
Every eye in the dining room turned to me.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it physically hurt. I stepped back, my shoulder hitting the heavy wooden doorframe.
“I… I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I stammered. “Mr. Moretti, I swear I have nothing to do with this.”
Carlo chuckled, a wet, ugly sound that echoed in the cavernous room. He tossed a silver pocket watch onto the table.
“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart,” Carlo sneered. “That watch belonged to the private doctor who treated Caroline on her final night. The doctor who mysteriously vanished.”
The blood drained from my face.
The silver watch had a cracked glass face. I recognized it immediately.
“Luca,” Vanessa said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I tried to warn you about hiring cheap help. The girl is desperate. She obviously knows something about your wife's death, and she’s manipulating Isabella to cover her tracks.”
“She’s twenty-seven years old,” Luca said, not taking his eyes off Carlo. “You expect me to believe a maid orchestrated a medical cover-up under the nose of the Chicago syndicate?”
“Desperate people do desperate things,” Carlo said, casually swirling his wine. “I suggest you hand the girl over to me for questioning. And as for your daughter… she still has to vacate by midnight. A contract is a contract.”
“No!”
Isabella suddenly stood up.
For the first time all evening, the ten-year-old girl didn't look like a victim. She looked like the daughter of a mafia boss.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a heavy, antique silver key.
“Claire didn't hurt Mommy,” Isabella said, her voice ringing clear across the silent room. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Carlo laughed. “Isabella, you’re confused. Your mind is going. That’s why Vanessa found you a nice, quiet hospital.”
“My mind is perfectly fine,” Isabella snapped. She turned to Luca. “Daddy, make them leave.”
Luca didn't hesitate.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers once.
The heavy mahogany doors to the dining room swung open. Twelve men in dark suits stepped into the room.
“The engagement is canceled,” Luca announced, his voice devoid of emotion. “Everyone out. Now.”
Vanessa’s jaw dropped. “Luca! You can’t do this! The wedding is in three days!”
“Leave,” Luca said coldly. “Take your father. And if either of you ever steps foot on my property again, you won’t leave it.”
Within two minutes, the dining room was completely empty.
It was just Luca, Isabella, and me.
My knees finally gave out. I collapsed against the wall, trying to fight back tears.
“My mom,” I sobbed. “If they think I’m involved, they’ll go after my family.”
“Nobody is going after your family, Claire,” Luca said gently.
He walked over and handed me his own crisp, white handkerchief.
“They are using you as a scapegoat,” Luca explained, his mind already working through the tactical problem. He turned to his daughter. “Sweetheart, where did you get that key?”
Isabella looked at me with a sorrow that cut straight to my soul.
“Mommy gave it to me,” Isabella whispered, her voice breaking. “She said if anyone ever tried to send me away, I had to give this key to someone I trusted.”
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She walked over and placed the cold silver key into my trembling palm.
“She said it opens the music box in her old bedroom,” Isabella cried. “And the music box proves that her heart didn't stop on its own. Vanessa stopped it.”
