Chapter 3 - THE GOLD WATCH
The air in the wine cellar grew incredibly still.
Luca stared at me, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. He looked from my face to the photographs of Elena on the corkboard, tracing the similarities. The dark hair. The hazel eyes. The quiet, observant posture.
"Your mother is Maria Morgan?" Luca asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I nodded, my chest tightening with panic. "Yes. But... but this is impossible. My father died when I was a baby. He was a fisherman in Porto."
Raymond stepped closer, his eyes welling with tears. "He wasn't your father, Rachel. The man who raised you for those first few years... he was paid by Antonio to protect you and your mother. To give you a legitimate cover."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. My entire life, my memories, the struggles my mother and I faced—it was all built on a foundation of lies and blood money.
"My mother never told me," I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks. "She worked three jobs when we moved to Chicago. We barely had enough to eat."
"Because the payments stopped," Luca said, his voice hardening as he looked at the ledger on the desk. "Vanessa diverted the funds three years ago when she first wormed her way into this family's finances. She starved you out."
"But why did she hire me?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. "If she knew who I was, why bring me into this house?"
"Keep your enemies close," Luca murmured, his jaw locking. "She brought you here as a maid to humiliate you. To watch you scrub floors in the house that should have been half yours. She’s been playing a game with your life, Rachel."
I grabbed the edge of a wooden wine rack to steady myself. The cruelty of it was staggering. Vanessa hadn't just insulted me at dinner; she had been reveling in a secret victory every single day I worked for her.
"Sir," Daniel, the head of security, suddenly appeared at the top of the basement stairs. His face was pale.
"What is it?" Luca demanded, stepping in front of me protectively.
"It's Vanessa, Boss," Daniel said, breathing heavily. "She's not in the study."
Luca’s eyes flashed. "I told you not to let her leave!"
"She didn't leave through the door," Daniel said. "She used the dumbwaiter panel. She knows the architecture of this house better than we thought. But that's not the worst part."
Daniel descended the stairs, holding a heavy gold pocket watch.
Luca’s face drained of color when he saw it. "That's my father's watch. It belongs in the master safe."
"She broke into the safe, sir," Daniel said, handing the watch to Luca. "She didn't just take the jewelry. She took the deed to the South Side properties. And she left this inside the watch casing."
Luca popped open the gold lid. Tucked inside the face of the watch was a small, folded piece of paper.
He opened it. His eyes scanned the words, and I watched the muscles in his neck pull tight.
"What does it say?" Raymond asked anxiously.
Luca didn't answer immediately. He looked at me, a profound, protective fury radiating from him.
"It's an address," Luca said softly. "Your mother's apartment address, Rachel. And a message."
He turned the paper around so we could see the elegant, looping handwriting.
If I can't have the empire, neither can the maid. I'm taking the source.
"Mom," I gasped, the word tearing from my throat.
"Daniel, get the cars," Luca barked, tossing the note aside. "Now!"
"Boss, the guests are still upstairs," Daniel hesitated.
"I don't care about the guests!" Luca roared. "Lock down the estate and get me a car!"
I didn't wait for him. I turned and sprinted up the stairs, my stained apron flying behind me. I didn't care about the confused looks of the wealthy elite in the foyer. I burst through the front doors into the freezing Chicago night, running toward the staff parking lot where my beat-up sedan was parked.
Before I could reach it, a sleek black SUV pulled up beside me, the tires squealing on the cobblestone.
The passenger door flew open. Luca was driving.
"Get in," he ordered.
I scrambled into the seat, and Luca hit the gas before I even closed the door. We tore out of the estate gates, leaving the bewildered guards in our dust.
"Call her," Luca said, his eyes fixed on the road as he wove through traffic with terrifying precision.
I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped it twice before finally dialing my mother's number.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
"Pick up, Mom, please," I prayed aloud.
Click.
"Rachel?" my mother's voice answered, sounding groggy. "Baby, it's late. Are you still working?"
A sob of relief escaped my lips. "Mom! Are you okay? Is anyone in the apartment?"
"What? No, I'm alone," she said, confusion lacing her heavy Portuguese accent. "I was sleeping. What's wrong?"
"Mom, you need to get out of there right now," I said, panic rising in my chest again. "Don't pack anything. Just grab your keys and go down to the lobby. I'm coming to get you."
"Rachel, you're scaring me," she said, the sleep vanishing from her voice. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything, Mom, but they know who we are!" I cried. "Vanessa knows about my father!"
There was a dead silence on the line.
"Mom?" I asked.
"They know about Antonio?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a twenty-five-year-old terror.
"Yes. And she's coming for you. Please, go to the lobby!"
"Okay. Okay, I'm going," she said. I heard the rustle of keys and the creak of her front door opening.
"I'll be there in five minutes," I promised, keeping the phone to my ear.
I heard her footsteps in the hallway. I heard the ding of the elevator.
And then, I heard a man's voice.
"Going down, Maria?"
My mother screamed. The sound of a struggle echoed through the phone, followed by a hard thud.
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"Mom!" I screamed into the receiver. "Mom!"
The line went dead.
