Chapter 3 – THE WATCH ON THE TABLE

The gold watch sat on the white linen like a bomb waiting to detonate.

I couldn’t breathe.

Three years ago, Caroline Moretti hadn’t just died from her long illness. A week before she passed, she had suffered a terrible fall down the back staircase. The doctors said her body was too weak to recover from the trauma.

Everyone believed she had tripped.

Until now.

Luca stared at the cracked watch face. Then he reached out and slowly picked it up.

He flipped it over.

Engraved on the back of the gold casing were three letters: M. A. M.

Marcus Anthony Moretti.

Marcus took a step backward toward the dining room doors. His polished demeanor had completely shattered. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Luca, wait,” Marcus stammered, raising both hands. “Caroline was confused. She attacked me. I was trying to help her back to her room.”

“She ripped your watch off?” Luca asked, his voice a lethal whisper. “While you were helping her?”

“She was hysterical!” Marcus yelled. “She confronted Vanessa and me in the hallway! She started screaming that she was going to tell you everything! She lost her balance!”

“No!” Emily cried, tears streaming down her face. “Mommy didn’t fall! I saw you!”

The room gasped.

I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around Emily’s small shoulders, pulling her against me. She was trembling violently.

Luca turned to his daughter. The look in his eyes was caught between profound heartbreak and absolute fury.

“Emily,” Luca said gently, despite the rage vibrating in his jaw. “What did you see, baby?”

Emily buried her face in my apron for a second before looking up.

“I was hiding behind the banister,” she sobbed. “I heard Mommy yelling. She told Marcus to get out of our house. She said she was calling you.”

Emily pointed a shaking finger at Vanessa.

“And then Vanessa grabbed Mommy’s arm. And Marcus pushed her.”

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.

Vanessa collapsed into her chair, sobbing hysterically into her hands. “It was an accident! It was an accident! She wouldn’t let go of my wrist!”

Luca didn’t look at Vanessa. He kept his eyes on his brother.

“You pushed my wife down the stairs.”

“Luca, be reasonable!” Marcus shouted, his eyes darting toward the exits. “We were panicked! She was going to ruin everything! You were going to cut me out of the company!”

Luca slowly placed the gold watch in his pocket.

Then he looked at the twenty-eight guests sitting around the table.

“Everyone,” Luca said calmly. “Get out.”

Chairs scraped frantically against the floor. Men in expensive suits and women in silk gowns scrambled for the doors. Nobody spoke a word. Within sixty seconds, the grand dining room was empty, save for Luca, Marcus, Vanessa, Emily, and me.

“Claire,” Luca said without turning around. “Take Emily to the kitchen. Have the chef make her some ice cream. Do not leave her side.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

I took Emily’s hand. We hurried toward the swinging kitchen doors, but right before we pushed through, I heard Marcus make his final mistake.

“You can’t do anything to me, Luca,” Marcus sneered, his fear morphing into desperate arrogance. “I control the offshore accounts. You touch me, and the feds get an anonymous tip tomorrow.”

I pulled Emily through the doors as Luca took his first step toward his brother.

In the kitchen, the chef had already fled. The stainless steel counters were spotless.

I lifted Emily onto a tall stool and wrapped a warm dish towel around her shoulders. She was shaking, her eyes wide with the shock of finally telling a secret she had carried for three years.

“You were so brave, honey,” I whispered, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Are they going to hurt Daddy?” she asked, her voice tiny.

“No,” I promised her. “Nobody is going to hurt your daddy.”

I went to the freezer, pulled out a carton of vanilla ice cream, and scooped it into a bowl. My own hands were shaking. I had just watched the most powerful family in Chicago implode.

As I set the bowl in front of Emily, my eyes landed on Vanessa’s cashmere coat.

It was draped over one of the kitchen chairs, likely brought back here by a coat-check girl earlier in the evening.

Something was sticking out of the right pocket.

It was a small, blue velvet box.

I knew I shouldn’t look. I was a maid. I was already in too deep.

But I thought about Caroline Moretti dying in a hospital bed, wondering if her daughter loved her.

I reached out and opened the coat pocket. I pulled out the velvet box and flipped the lid.

Inside was a heavy diamond engagement ring.

But it wasn’t the ring Luca had given Vanessa.

I pulled out the tiny receipt folded beneath the velvet cushion.

The ring was purchased three days ago.

By Marcus.

Vanessa wasn’t just having an affair. She had been planning to marry Marcus the whole time. The engagement to Luca was a smokescreen.

Then the kitchen doors flew open.

Vanessa stumbled inside. Her red dress was torn at the shoulder. Her makeup was running in black streaks down her face.

She saw me holding the velvet box.

Her eyes flashed with wild, cornered desperation.

She lunged past me, grabbed a heavy silver carving knife from the counter, and turned toward Emily.

“Vanessa, no!” I screamed.

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