Chapter 2 – THE WATCH FROM THE GRAVE
The rain poured over us, soaking my uniform to the skin.
But Matteo stood frozen, staring at the gleaming gold pocket watch in the frail woman’s hands.
“Where did you get this?” Matteo’s voice was barely a whisper.
June looked down at the watch, her brief moment of clarity already slipping away.
“The nice man,” she murmured, her teeth chattering violently. “He said Nicky needed to see the truth.”
Henry pushed past us, wrapping his arms around his freezing wife.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Henry sobbed, burying his face in her wet hair. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
June leaned into him, closing her eyes. “You forgot my cake, Henry.”
“I know, darling. I know.”
Matteo slowly reached out and took the watch from her hands.
He wiped the rainwater from the glass face.
There was a deep scratch across the back casing—the exact scratch his father, Dominic Russo, had accidentally made twenty years ago.
“This is impossible,” Matteo muttered.
“Sir,” I urged, shivering uncontrollably. “We need to get them out of the cold. She’s going to catch pneumonia.”
Matteo snapped out of his shock. “Right. Get them in the car. Hurry.”
I helped Henry guide June into the heated backseat. I sat beside her, rubbing her icy hands to generate warmth.
As Matteo threw the SUV into drive, headlights flared in the rearview mirror.
It was Evelyn, pulling up in her silver Mercedes.
She jumped out into the rain and ran up to Matteo’s window just as he rolled it down.
“Matteo, thank God you found her!” Evelyn cried, playing the concerned fiancée perfectly. “I was terrified she wandered into traffic!”
Matteo didn’t look at her. He just stared straight ahead.
“Evelyn,” he said coldly. “Go back to the house. Pack a bag for the guest wing. You are not sleeping in my room tonight.”
Evelyn’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Over a senile old woman?”
Matteo finally turned to her, his eyes dark and dangerous.
“If you ever speak about June that way again, the wedding is off.”
He rolled the window up in her face and sped toward the estate.
By the time we got back, the engagement party had been completely cleared out by security.
I helped Henry get June upstairs to one of the warm guest bedrooms. Maria, the head housekeeper, brought dry clothes and hot tea.
Once June was finally asleep, tucked safely under a heavy down comforter, Henry sat in a chair beside her bed, refusing to let go of her hand.
I walked out into the hallway and found Matteo pacing near the staircase.
He was staring at the pocket watch.
“Mr. Russo?” I asked softly. “Is she going to be okay?”
He stopped pacing. “The doctor is on his way. Abigail… thank you. For standing up for Henry tonight.”
“He’s a good man, sir.”
“He is.” Matteo looked down at the watch. “My father was buried with this. I placed it in his hands myself.”
“Could it be a duplicate?” I asked.
“No.” Matteo pressed a tiny hidden latch near the crown.
The back of the watch popped open.
Inside the secret compartment wasn’t a photograph, but a tightly folded piece of aged paper and a tiny, rusted iron key.
Matteo carefully unfolded the note.
I watched his face drain of all color as he read it.
“Sir?” I stepped closer. “What is it?”
He handed me the paper.
The handwriting was jagged, written in thick black ink.
Nicky. If you are reading this, it means someone has tried to remove the Bells from this property.Evelyn Cross is not who she claims to be.Take this key. Look beneath the floorboards in the old greenhouse.You must protect the girl.
My breath caught in my throat.
“The girl?” I whispered. “Who does he mean?”
Before Matteo could answer, a loud crash echoed from the floor below us.
We ran to the balcony overlooking the grand foyer.
Downstairs, Evelyn was screaming at the security guards, holding a thick manila folder in her hands.
“Get your hands off me!” she shrieked.
Matteo descended the stairs, his presence immediately commanding the room.
“What is going on here?” Matteo demanded.
Evelyn threw the folder onto the marble floor. Dozens of medical documents spilled out.
“You want to know the truth about your precious gardener?” Evelyn spat, her perfect makeup ruined by the rain. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel by sending June away! I was trying to save you!”
Matteo narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”
Evelyn pointed a shaking finger toward the guest bedroom upstairs.
“Henry Bell isn’t the sweet, devoted husband you think he is,” she sneered.
She picked up one of the documents and shoved it against Matteo’s chest.
“Henry didn’t lose his mind to grief, Matteo. The toxicology report proves he’s the one who has been poisoning June for the last six months.”
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