Chapter 3 - The Gold Watch
I shoved the photograph back into the clutch just as a shadow fell over me. I looked up. Victoria was standing there. The tears were completely gone. Her eyes were as cold and sharp as the broken glass scattered across the terrace. “You have a lot of courage, Rose,” she said quietly, her voice smooth. “Grabbing her like that. You must be in a lot of pain.” “I’ll be fine,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I refused to look away. She reached into her bridal purse—a diamond-encrusted thing that cost more than my apartment—and pulled out a heavy, men’s Rolex. It was platinum. It gleamed in the ambient light of the city. “My husband and I are so grateful,” Victoria said. She dropped the Rolex directly into my lap. “This was a wedding gift to Nathaniel from a business partner. It’s worth sixty thousand dollars. Take it. Quit this awful catering job. Start a business. And when the police ask you what happened tonight, you tell them exactly what you saw: an old woman who drank too much champagne and lost her footing.” She wasn't asking. She was buying my silence. I looked down at the watch. Sixty thousand dollars. It would pay off my mother's medical debt. It would change my life. “I don’t want your money,” I said, handing the watch back to her. Victoria didn't take it. She just smiled. “You don’t have a choice, Rose. Because if you contradict me, I’ll tell the police I saw you stealing from the guests' coat check. Who do you think they’ll believe? A billionaire’s wife, or a cater-waiter with a mountain of debt?” Before I could answer, Nathaniel’s head of security—a massive man named Vance—stepped between us. “Mrs. Callaway,” Vance said politely. “Your husband needs you in the penthouse. The detectives have questions.” Victoria glared at me one last time before turning on her heel and marching away. Vance looked down at me. He picked up the Rolex from my lap. “You shouldn't have been on this terrace, kid.” “She pushed her,” I blurted out. I couldn't stop myself. “I swear to God, she shoved her.” Vance’s face softened just a fraction. He reached into his pocket and handed me a plain white business card. “Eleanor is being taken to St. Jude’s Hospital for observation. Go to the service elevator. Leave the hotel. Do not speak to the uniforms in the lobby.” I flipped the card over. On the back, written in hurried black ink, were three words: Bring the clutch. My stomach plummeted. Vance knew. Eleanor had trusted him. I took the service elevator down to the alley, stripping off my blood-stained apron but keeping the clutch tight against my chest. The cold night air hit my face, but I didn't stop moving until I reached the hospital. I found Eleanor’s room on the VIP floor. Vance was standing guard outside. He nodded and let me in. Eleanor looked small in the hospital bed, the monitors beeping softly. “You came,” she whispered. “I brought it,” I said, pulling the clutch from my pocket. “I saw the photo. Victoria knew your husband.” Eleanor closed her eyes, tears leaking into her silver hair. “She didn't just know him, Rose. She’s his daughter from an affair. She’s Nathaniel’s half-sister.” I stumbled backward, the floor tilting beneath me. But before I could process the horror of it, the hospital room door clicked open. And Nathaniel walked in.
