Chapter 1 – The Blue Key In The Drawer

“Then perhaps you’d like to explain something, Grant.”

Luca’s voice was dangerously quiet.

“How did you get inside her apartment?”

The dining room of the Moretti estate was so silent I could hear the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Grant’s confident smile faltered. Just a fraction of an inch, but I saw it. I had spent four years studying his facial expressions, learning to predict the storms before they hit.

“Rachel gave it to me,” Grant said smoothly, recovering his composure. He looked around the table at the wealthy guests, playing the part of the long-suffering caregiver. “She’s been terribly forgetful lately. She asked me to hold onto a spare in case she locked herself out again.”

“That is a lie,” I said.

My voice trembled, but I didn’t back down. I looked directly at Luca.

“I changed my locks on Tuesday. I put that spare key inside my kitchen drawer. I haven’t seen him in three weeks.”

Grant sighed, a heavy, patronizing sound. “Sweetheart, please. You’re confused. You called me on Wednesday crying about the cat.”

“I don’t have a cat, Grant.”

The room grew even colder.

Luca didn’t look at me. His dark, intense eyes remained locked on my ex-husband. He didn’t yell. He didn’t posture. He simply held out his hand.

“Give me the keys.”

Grant bristled, his ego flaring. “Now look, Mr. Moretti, I respect you, but this is a domestic issue. We’re in the middle of a multi-million dollar construction negotiation, and I won’t be interrogated over my ex-wife’s mental breakdown.”

Luca’s hand remained extended.

Daniel, the head of Moretti security, stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. He was six-foot-four, built like a freight train, and he didn’t ask twice.

Grant swallowed hard. He dropped my car keys and his own key ring into Luca’s palm.

Luca detached the blue rubber-coated key. He handed my car keys back to me. Then, he looked at Daniel.

“Search his car,” Luca ordered quietly.

“You can’t do that!” Grant snapped, his face flushing dark red. “That’s illegal!”

“You are parked on my private property,” Luca replied softly. “And you just admitted to holding a key to a woman’s home without her consent. Search it, Daniel.”

The guests watched in horrified fascination as Daniel left the room. Grant stood rigid, his fists clenched, glaring at me with a hatred so pure it made my stomach turn.

“You’re going to regret this, Rachel,” he whispered under his breath.

Two minutes later, Daniel returned.

He wasn’t carrying construction blueprints. He was carrying a small, intricately carved wooden box.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was my grandfather’s memory box. I kept it on the top shelf of my bedroom closet.

“Found this hidden under the spare tire in the trunk, Boss,” Daniel said, setting it on the dining table next to the crystal wine glasses.

Luca looked at Grant. “Care to explain why you stole from her bedroom?”

Grant panicked. “It’s mine! She took it in the divorce! I was just reclaiming my property!”

I stepped forward and popped the brass latch on the box.

Inside, resting on the velvet lining, was a folded child’s crayon drawing. And beneath that, a heavy silver pocket watch.

I picked up the watch. “This belonged to my grandfather. You hated this watch, Grant.”

I turned the watch over and pressed the small notch near the hinge. It sprang open, revealing a hidden compartment behind the clock face.

But the compartment wasn’t empty.

Folded neatly inside was a small, faded photograph.

Luca stepped closer to inspect it. When his eyes landed on the photo, his entire body went rigid. The air in the room seemed to shatter.

Because the photograph was of a man lying in a pool of blood. And the man in the picture was Luca’s murdered father.