Chapter 4 - The Bloodstained Watch
~1,050 words
The silence in the penthouse was absolute, broken only by the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I stared at the bloodstained pocket watch dangling from my three-year-old’s fingers. The metallic scent of old copper seemed to fill the room instantly.
“Emma, drop it,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
Emma flinched, her lower lip trembling, and the heavy gold watch hit the plush rug with a dull thud.
Luca moved faster than I could track. He knelt beside the rug, pulling a pristine white handkerchief from his suit pocket. He didn’t touch the watch with his bare skin. He carefully wrapped the fabric around the gold casing and lifted it.
His face, usually an unreadable mask of control, fractured. Pure, unadulterated shock widened his dark eyes.
“Dante,” Luca barked, his voice devoid of its usual smooth cadence.
The massive bodyguard stepped forward, looking down at the watch. Dante swore under his breath in rapid Italian, stepping back as if the object were radioactive.
“What is it?” I asked, instinctively pulling Emma onto my lap, wrapping my arms defensively around her. “Luca, what is that?”
Luca didn’t look at me. He stared at the shattered glass face of the watch.
“Twenty years ago, my mother was murdered in her bedroom,” Luca said, his voice a hollow, dangerous rasp. “The man who ordered the hit was Silas Moretti. The former head of the Moretti syndicate. But Silas didn’t pull the trigger. He sent his best enforcer.”
Luca slowly turned the watch over in his hand. The back of the gold casing was heavily dented, bearing the unmistakable crest of the Moretti family—a coiled serpent.
“The enforcer was wounded by our guards as he escaped,” Luca continued, his eyes burning with a dark, violent fire. “He bled out in the street. But before he died, he managed to pass something to his accomplice—the nurse who unlocked the door for him. Elena Rostova.”
My mother.
“This was the enforcer’s watch,” Luca whispered. “It has been missing for two decades. It is the only piece of physical evidence that ties Silas Moretti directly to my mother’s murder.”
The reversal hit me so hard the room seemed to tilt.
Jake didn’t break into Mrs. Chen’s apartment to steal my grandmother’s jewelry box. He broke in to plant the silver Castellano locket as a distraction, while his accomplice—the woman with the red-bottom shoes—slipped the bloodstained Moretti watch into Emma’s backpack.
“Answer one, open two,” I breathed, clutching Emma tighter. “Jake isn't working for the Morettis. He’s blackmailing them.”
Luca finally looked up at me, the pieces clicking together in his brilliant, tactical mind.
“Jake stole your seventy thousand dollars eighteen months ago,” Luca deduced, pacing the length of the penthouse. “But he didn't just steal cash. He found your mother’s hidden stash. He found my family’s platinum locket, and he found this watch.”
“He realized what he had,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. “He tried to sell the watch back to Silas Moretti to buy his way into their syndicate. But he failed. And now Silas wants him dead.”
“Which means Jake is using the child as a courier,” Dante interjected grimly. “If Silas’s men catch Jake, he doesn't have the watch on him. He slipped it into the girl’s bag so it would be safe while he negotiated his survival.”
Disgust and fury boiled in my stomach. Jake, the man I had once loved, had turned our innocent daughter into a pawn in a mafia war.
“My mother was not a murderer,” I said, my voice shaking with unshed tears. “She raised me alone. She worked three jobs. She was terrified of her own shadow. She would never help an enforcer kill a woman.”
Luca stopped pacing. He looked at me, his gaze softening just enough to break my heart.
“I have hunted the woman named Elena Rostova for ten years since I took over the syndicate,” Luca said quietly. “I hated her. I planned to tear her apart. But looking at you... looking at how fiercely you protect your child...”
He stepped closer, crouching down so we were eye-to-eye.
“I do not believe a woman who raised a lioness could be a snake,” Luca murmured. “There is a piece of this puzzle missing. And the woman using your mother’s name on that ferry ticket tonight knows what it is.”
He stood up, his authority returning like a tidal wave.
“Dante. Mobilize the strike team. We are going to the Bainbridge ferry terminal. We intercept the woman using the ticket.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said, attempting to stand.
A sharp, agonizing pain shot through my ankle. I collapsed back into the chair, gasping.
“You are staying here,” Luca commanded, pointing a stern finger at me. “You have a micro-fracture. You will stay with Emma. The penthouse is secure. Nobody gets up this elevator without my biometric clearance.”
“She’s using my mother’s name!” I yelled, frustrated by my own weakness. “I deserve to know who she is!”
“You will,” Luca promised, his dark eyes fierce and uncompromising. “I will bring her back to you alive. I swear it.”
He turned and strode toward the elevator, shrugging on a heavy black overcoat that made him look like a dark, avenging angel.
For the next two hours, the penthouse was a luxurious prison. Maria, the housekeeper, brought me a tray of hot soup and tea, playing cartoons on a massive flat-screen TV for Emma.
I couldn't eat. I stared at the flashing lights of the Seattle skyline, my mind spinning with the revelation that my entire life had been built on a foundation of dangerous secrets.
Suddenly, the private elevator chimed.
I tensed, grabbing a heavy brass candlestick from the side table.
The polished steel doors slid open.
Dante stepped out first. His face was grim, a nasty cut bleeding above his left eyebrow.
Luca followed, his overcoat soaked with rain. His face was a mask of cold, controlled fury.
But they hadn't brought a woman back with them.
“Where is she?” I asked, dropping the candlestick, my heart sinking. “Did she get on the ferry?”
Luca didn't answer immediately. He walked over to the wet bar, poured a glass of whiskey, and drank it in one swift motion.
“There was no woman at the terminal,” Luca said, his voice laced with a dark, bitter edge.
“But the ticket...”
“The ticket was a decoy,” Luca snarled, throwing the glass into the sink where it shattered loudly. Emma jumped on the couch, burying her face in the blanket.
Luca immediately closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath to rein in his temper. When he opened them, the violence was tucked away, replaced by calculating dread.
“Jake knew I would trace the ticket. He knew I would bring my best men to the terminal to intercept the ghost of Elena Rostova,” Luca explained, walking slowly toward me.
“Then where was Jake?” I asked.
Before Luca could answer, Dante’s radio crackled with static.
A frantic voice echoed through the earpiece. “Boss. We have a breach at the southern shipping yards. It’s Silas Moretti’s men. They aren't looking for Jake.”
Luca’s blood ran cold. He looked at Dante.
“They hit our main armory, Boss,” the voice over the radio panicked. “They knew exactly where the weak points were. They had our internal security codes.”
Dante drew his weapon, spinning around to face Luca.
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But Dante didn't aim at the door.
He aimed his gun directly at Luca’s chest.
