Chapter 2 – THE WATCH IN THE POCKET

My blood ran cold.

Marcus had been with the Moretti family for five years. He stood by the door every evening, silent, loyal, a shadow in a tailored suit. Now, his gun was aimed precisely at my heart.

“What are you doing?” I choked out, clutching the small amber vial.

“Protecting my retirement,” Marcus said smoothly. “Drop it. Now.”

I thought of my mother. I thought of the overdue electric bill on the kitchen counter. I had no business being in the middle of a mafia boss’s shattered engagement. But if I dropped this vial, Luca would drink that champagne tonight.

And Vanessa would board a plane to Buenos Aires a very wealthy widow.

I slowly opened my fingers. The vial slipped, but I didn’t drop it on the thick carpet. I threw it as hard as I could against the marble edge of the fireplace.

Crack.

The glass shattered. The amber liquid hissed against the stone, filling the room with a sharp, chemical scent.

Marcus lunged at me. He grabbed me by the hair, throwing me against the closet door. The breath left my lungs in a sharp gasp.

“You stupid girl,” he hissed, pressing the cold barrel of the gun under my chin. “You think destroying that saves him? There’s a second vial.”

Before he could pull the trigger, a voice rang out from the doorway.

“Let her go, Marcus.”

We both froze.

Luca Moretti stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He didn’t have a weapon drawn. He was holding the silver pocket watch his father had given him—the one he always carried in his vest.

Marcus didn’t lower his gun. “Boss. You shouldn’t be up here.”

“Emily went to get a bag. It took too long,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly even. “Step away from the girl.”

“I can’t do that, Luca.” Marcus shifted his grip. “Vanessa promised me a cut of the trust. A million dollars. I’m tired of opening doors.”

“A million dollars,” Luca repeated softly. He stepped fully into the room. “And you trusted a woman who just betrayed her fiancé and her lover in the same night?”

Marcus hesitated. That split second of doubt was all Luca needed.

With lightning speed, Luca threw the heavy silver pocket watch directly at Marcus’s face. The solid metal struck his temple with a sickening crack. Marcus stumbled backward, dropping the gun.

Luca moved. He closed the distance in two strides, driving his knee into Marcus’s chest and pinning him to the floor.

I scrambled away, gasping for air, clutching my bruised ribs.

Luca didn’t look at me. He stared down at the bleeding bodyguard. “Where is the second vial, Marcus?”

Marcus spat blood onto the carpet. “You’re already dead, Moretti. She put it in the wine. Not the champagne. The wine you drank with your appetizer.”

The room spun. I stared at Luca. He had finished his entire glass of red wine twenty minutes ago.

Luca slowly stood up. He looked pale, but his expression didn’t change. He turned to me.

“Emily. Are you hurt?”

“No,” I whispered, crying. “Sir, your wine…”

“I didn’t drink the wine, Emily,” Luca said quietly.

I blinked. “But I saw your glass was empty.”

Luca reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, child’s drawing. It was a messy crayon sketch of a dog.

“Allison’s son, Leo, gave this to me before dinner,” Luca said. “He spilled his juice on my chair. When I sat down, my cuff got wet. I poured my wine into the potted plant next to my chair so I could wipe the table without Vanessa noticing and causing a scene.”

Relief washed over me so strongly my knees buckled.

“But someone else asked for a glass of that specific red wine,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

I stared at him, my mind racing back to the dinner service. Who had asked for the special vintage?

My eyes widened in absolute horror.

“Adrian,” I whispered.

Luca nodded. “Come with me. We need to get downstairs before he takes a sip.”

We ran. We bolted down the grand staircase, leaving Marcus groaning on the floor.

We reached the dining room just as Adrian Romano raised the crystal wine glass to his lips, his hand shaking from the confrontation. Vanessa was watching him, a terrifying, desperate smile creeping onto her face.

“Adrian, no!” I screamed.

But it was too late. He swallowed.

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