Chapter 1 – THE TRUTH BEHIND THE WHISKEY GLASS

I stood completely frozen in the dining room.

Forty wealthy guests were staring at me.

Michael’s hands were trembling against the white tablecloth.

Luca’s dark eyes never left my face.

“Emily,” Luca repeated, his voice dangerously low. “Tell me exactly what Giovanni just said.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Mr. Bellucci said the video was fabricated, sir.”

Vanessa let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

“Fabricated? Luca, she’s making this up to save her job!”

I didn’t look at her. I kept my eyes on Luca.

“He said the video was edited,” I continued, my voice steadying. “It’s old footage from when Michael was in rehab seven years ago. Someone digitally altered the background to make it look like his current office.”

Michael let out a broken sob.

He buried his face in his hands, the relief crashing over him so hard his shoulders shook.

Luca closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.

When he opened them, the raw fury in his gaze made the temperature in the room plummet.

He slowly turned toward his fiancée.

“You used his darkest moments,” Luca whispered. “You took the footage from his clinical files—files only family had access to—and you weaponized his trauma.”

Vanessa took a step back, her red satin gown rustling against the marble floor.

“Luca, you have to understand. The business is growing too fast. Michael is weak! He’s always been weak. I did this to protect our empire.”

“Our empire?” Luca stepped closer to her. “This is the Moretti family. You are a guest who hasn’t even signed the marriage license.”

Vanessa’s jaw tightened.

“You think I did this alone?”

The entire room went dead silent.

She looked around the table, her eyes landing on Giovanni.

But Giovanni wasn’t looking at her. He was reaching into his tailored jacket again.

“I did not agree to your fiancée’s terms, Mr. Moretti,” Giovanni said quietly. “I came tonight to expose them.”

Vanessa’s face went pale. “Giovanni, shut your mouth.”

“I have worked for your father since you were children,” Giovanni continued, stepping toward Luca. “I would never betray his sons.”

Giovanni placed a heavy, tarnished silver object onto the white tablecloth.

It wasn’t a document.

It was a silver pocket watch.

Scratched. Dented. And covered in dried, dark stains.

Luca stared at it, the color draining from his tattooed face.

“Where did you get that?” Luca’s voice cracked.

“Vanessa used it as collateral,” Giovanni said. “She gave it to me yesterday to prove she had the backing of the one person who could truly remove Michael from the board.”

Luca reached out with a shaking hand and picked up the watch.

I recognized the crest engraved on the front.

It was the same crest painted above the mansion’s fireplace.

“This was my father’s,” Luca whispered. “He had it on him the night he died in the car crash. It was missing from the wreckage.”

He looked up at Vanessa.

“How do you have a dead man’s watch?”

Vanessa smiled, but her eyes were terrified.

“Open the clasp, Luca.”

Luca pressed the latch.

The silver cover popped open.

But there was no clock face inside.

There was a small, faded photograph tucked into the metal casing.

Luca stared at the picture, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.

He slowly looked up, his eyes searching the room before they landed squarely on me.

“Emily,” he breathed.

My heart pounded against my ribs. “Yes, sir?”

Luca turned the watch around so I could see the photograph.

“Why is there a picture of you in my dead father’s watch?”