Chapter 2 - THE ENGRAVED WATCH
Luca did not shout. He didn’t reach for a weapon.
He simply walked across the marble floor of the dining room, his heavy footsteps echoing against the sudden, suffocating silence.
The forty guests parted for him like water.
The man beside the champagne table—the man Vanessa had introduced as Marcus, a wealthy real estate developer—stood perfectly still. He was a man who traded in confidence, the one who had vouched for Vanessa, the one who had brought her into Luca’s inner circle.
Now, he looked like a man facing a firing squad.
Luca stopped two feet away from him.
“Is there a reason my fiancée’s former housemaid recognizes you, Marcus?” Luca asked. His voice was dangerously calm, barely above a whisper, which made it far more terrifying than a scream.
Marcus forced a hollow laugh.
“Luca, this is absurd. The girl is clearly confused. I’ve never been to Wisconsin in my life.”
I stood by the staircase, my hands trembling so violently against my apron that I had to grip the fabric to keep them still. Vanessa’s fingernails were digging into her own palms so hard they were leaving crescent-shaped indentations in her skin.
“She’s lying,” Vanessa blurted out, her voice pitching into a panicked shriek. “She’s just a disgruntled employee trying to ruin our night!”
Luca didn’t look at Vanessa. He kept his dark, unblinking eyes locked on Marcus.
“I don’t think she is,” Luca said gently. “Because Sophie has nothing to gain by lying. And you, Marcus, are sweating.”
“I’m insulted,” Marcus sneered, puffing out his chest in a pathetic display of bravado. “I introduced you to the love of your life, and this is how you repay me? By listening to the help?”
I wanted to shrink into the shadows. I had overstepped. I was going to lose my job, my apartment, everything.
Then, a memory flashed in my mind.
Fourteen months ago. The small church in Milwaukee. I had been fixing Vanessa’s train while she handed her new husband a wedding gift. A heavy, expensive gift.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, my voice shaking but loud enough to carry.
Everyone turned to look at me.
“Sophie, shut your mouth!” Vanessa screamed, abandoning all pretense of elegance.
“Let her speak,” Luca commanded. He looked at me, his gaze softening just a fraction. “What is it, Sophie?”
“If he is the man from the wedding,” I whispered, staring directly at Marcus, “he’ll have a gold pocket watch. She gave it to him in the bridal suite just before the ceremony. It has an inscription on the back. It says: To Julian. My only master.”
The room went dead silent.
Julian. Not Marcus.
Luca slowly extended his hand toward his supposed friend.
“Show me your watch, Marcus.”
The color drained from Marcus’s face entirely. He took a step back, bumping into the champagne tower. The crystal glasses rattled, a fragile, trembling sound in the tense room.
“Luca, please—”
Before Marcus could finish, Luca’s hand shot out. He gripped the lapels of Marcus’s custom suit jacket, effortlessly lifting the man onto his toes. With his free hand, Luca reached into Marcus’s vest pocket and pulled out a heavy, gleaming gold watch.
He dropped Marcus, who stumbled backward, gasping for air.
Luca flipped the watch over in his palm.
I saw Luca’s jaw tighten. The veins in his neck stood out, stark against his tattoos.
He read the inscription aloud, his voice dripping with venom.
“To Julian. My only master.”
Vanessa let out a strangled, breathless sob and collapsed to her knees on the marble floor.
Luca didn't look at her. He didn't hit Marcus. He didn't have to. The quiet menace radiating from him was far more terrifying than physical violence.
“Get out of my house,” Luca whispered. “Both of you. Before I forget that there are witnesses.”
Marcus scrambled toward the door, not even looking back at the woman he had conspired with, leaving Vanessa weeping on the floor.
Luca turned to his guards, men who had materialized from the shadows of the mansion. “Clear the room. Cancel the wedding.”
As the guests hurried toward the exits, Luca looked down at the gold watch in his hand. He pressed the latch to open it.
I expected him to find a picture of Vanessa.
Instead, the watch casing popped open, and Luca’s face went pale. The anger vanished, replaced by a look of absolute, soul-crushing shock.
“Sophie,” Luca said, his voice stripped of all its armor. “Come here.”
I walked over, my heart hammering against my ribs.
He held the open watch out to me. Inside the casing was a tiny, faded photograph of a little boy.
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And the boy was wearing a heavy, intricately carved silver rosary.
“Do you know this child?” Luca demanded, staring at me with desperate eyes. “Because that rosary belonged to my murdered brother.”
