Chapter 2 – THE SILVER POCKET WATCH

The ballroom was entirely silent now.

Even the band had stopped playing.

I stared at Caterina. “Marco’s widow? Marco died before he ever married. He died in a car accident in Rome.”

Caterina gave a bitter, humorless laugh. “A car accident?” She looked at Vincent. “Is that what he told you?”

Vincent’s hands were shaking. He gripped the silver pocket watch so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Caterina, leave,” Vincent ordered. His voice wasn’t angry; it was desperate.

“No,” I said, holding my ground. I looked at the dark-haired woman. “What really happened to Marco?”

Caterina took a step closer to the table. She completely ignored Serena, who was now standing awkwardly, realizing she was no longer the center of this drama.

“Marco didn’t die in a car accident, Evelyn. He was murdered.”

I stopped breathing.

“Murdered?” Anna whispered, clutching her fiancé’s arm.

“By the same men your husband now works for,” Caterina said, her eyes burning with twenty years of grief. “Marco found out Vincent was laundering money through the family shipping business. He threatened to go to the authorities.”

I looked at Vincent. “You let them kill your brother?”

“I didn’t know!” Vincent shouted, his voice cracking. “I swear to God, Evelyn, I didn’t know they were going to touch him! I thought they would just scare him!”

“You handed him to them,” Caterina spat.

Then she turned to me. “But that is not why I am here tonight.”

She reached into her sleek black purse and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. It looked old. Yellowed at the edges.

“I sat with your daughter in the hospital last February because Vincent begged me to,” Caterina explained, her voice softening as she looked at Anna. “He told me he was trying to protect you. I believed him. But yesterday, I found out the real reason he kept you away.”

She handed the yellowed paper to me.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded it.

It was a birth certificate.

Dated thirty-two years ago.

The mother’s name was listed as Caterina Moretti.

The child’s name was illegible, smeared by what looked like an old water stain.

“I don’t understand,” I said, looking up at her. “You and Marco had a child?”

“Yes,” Caterina whispered. “A daughter. I gave birth to her in secret, just weeks before Marco was killed. I was terrified. I knew the men who killed him would come for his heir.”

She looked at Vincent, a tear finally escaping her eye.

“I gave my baby to Vincent. I begged him to hide her. To place her with a good family far away from Chicago.”

My heart was beating so fast it physically hurt.

“And?” I asked.

Caterina pointed a shaking finger at Serena Vale.

“And yesterday, I found out he didn’t give her to a family.” Caterina’s voice broke into a sob. “He raised her as his mistress.”

The entire ballroom gasped.

Serena’s face drained of every drop of blood.

She backed away from Vincent as if he had just caught fire. “What?” she choked out. “Vincent… what is she talking about?”

Vincent dropped the silver pocket watch. It hit the marble floor with a sharp crack, the glass face shattering.

He looked at Serena, his face twisted in absolute agony.

“I didn’t know,” Vincent whispered, reaching out to her. “Serena, I swear to God… I didn’t know you were her.”

Serena looked at the necklace she was wearing. My mother’s necklace.

She screamed, tearing the sapphires from her neck, the gold chain snapping.

But as the necklace hit the floor, Anna stepped forward, her eyes wide with terror.

“Wait,” Anna said, her voice shaking uncontrollably. “Dad… if Serena is Marco’s daughter…”

She looked at her fiancé, who was standing frozen behind her.

“Then who is the man I’m marrying?”

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