Chapter 3 - THE GHOST IN THE POCKET WATCH
The paper hit the marble with a soft tap, but it felt like a gunshot.
Vanessa lunged for it, but Luca was faster.
He scooped it up, his large hand shielding it from her grasp.
“Luca, please,” Vanessa pleaded, her voice cracking. “It’s not what you think. The maid planted it! She’s trying to destroy us!”
Luca ignored her.
He unfolded the small, yellowed square of paper.
I watched his face.
For thirteen months, I had seen Luca Moretti negotiate with ruthless businessmen, intimidate rivals, and handle family crises without ever showing a single emotion.
But now, his jaw tightened.
His eyes narrowed.
The paper in his hand was trembling slightly.
“Luca?” Michael asked, standing up slowly. Bruno immediately pressed against his leg to steady him. “What does it say?”
Luca didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned toward me.
“Emily.”
“Yes, Mr. Moretti.”
“When you cleaned the east wing yesterday, did you unlock the study?”
My stomach dropped.
The study was strictly off-limits. It had belonged to their father and had been locked since his passing.
“No, sir. I only dusted the hallway outside. The door was locked. I don’t have the key.”
Luca looked back at Vanessa.
“Then how did a receipt from a private investigator, dated two days ago, end up inside my father’s locked watch, stuffed into your chair?”
The guests gasped.
A private investigator.
Vanessa’s hands were shaking violently.
“I can explain,” she whispered.
“Explain why you hired someone to investigate my brother?” Luca demanded, his voice finally rising, echoing off the high ceilings. “Explain why you are drugging him?”
“I wasn’t drugging him!” Vanessa screamed. “I was trying to protect him!”
The reversal hit the room hard.
I frowned. Protect him?
Vanessa pointed a trembling finger at me.
“I wasn't investigating Michael! I was investigating her!”
Every eye in the ballroom turned to me.
I shrank back, clutching Bruno’s leash.
“Me?” I managed to say. “Why would you investigate me?”
“Because you aren’t who you say you are, Emily Carter,” Vanessa spat. She turned to Luca, desperate. “She isn’t just a maid, Luca. Look at her! Look at her face!”
Luca frowned, glancing at me.
“What are you talking about?”
Vanessa grabbed the piece of paper from Luca’s hand and shoved it toward Michael.
“Read it, Michael! Read the investigator's report! Emily’s mother didn't just stumble into some random illness. Her maiden name is Rossi.”
Silence blanketed the room.
Rossi.
The name meant nothing to me.
But to the Moretti family, it meant everything.
Michael looked at the paper, then up at me, his eyes wide with shock.
“Rossi,” Michael whispered. “The family that tried to take the south side from Dad twenty years ago.”
“Yes!” Vanessa cried, tears streaking her flawless makeup. “She’s a spy, Luca! She infiltrated this house to finish what her family started. I found out. I hired the investigator. I hid the watch because I knew she was searching my room. I was trying to keep Michael safe because she’s been poisoning his food!”
I felt dizzy.
“That’s a lie!” I shouted, stepping forward. “My mother’s maiden name is Davis! We have nothing to do with any Rossi family!”
Luca stood between us.
He looked at the broken pill bottle on the table.
Then at the pocket watch.
Then at me.
“If you are telling the truth, Emily,” Luca said quietly, “then empty your apron pockets.”
I froze.
Because earlier that afternoon, while cleaning the guest bathroom Vanessa used, I had found something.
Something I hadn't had time to tell anyone about.
I reached into my pocket and pulled it out.
May you like
A small, heavy brass key.
TITLE: THE KEY TO THE WEEPING ANGEL
