Chapter 3 - THE SILVER WATCH
The safe house was thirty miles outside the city limits. A brutalist concrete structure hidden deep within the Illinois woods.
Luca paced the length of the living room. Adrian sat on the leather sofa, clutching a glass of scotch he hadn’t taken a sip of.
Sofia sat at the heavy oak dining table. She had finally taken off the waitress apron. Underneath, she wore a simple black sweater. She looked exhausted, but her posture was rigid.
The silver pocket watch sat in the center of the table between them.
“Leo Rossi,” Luca said, testing the name on his tongue. “He was FBI.”
“He was an accountant for the Bureau,” Sofia corrected. “He tracked dirty money. He wasn't a field agent. He was a numbers guy who got too close to a shell company.”
“A shell company owned by Dante,” Luca deduced.
“Yes.” Sofia looked down at her hands. “When Leo vanished, the Bureau gave up after six months. They said he fled. I knew he didn’t. I spent the last three years tracking the shadow accounts he was investigating. They all funneled to a single offshore entity. And the signatory on that account was Dante.”
“So you took a job at my restaurant to kill my head of security,” Luca said, his tone unreadable.
“To expose him,” Sofia said. “If I killed him, I’d be just like him. I wanted to find the proof he kept on his encrypted drives. But tonight, when I saw him messing with the door to your son’s private room… I couldn't let it happen.”
Adrian finally spoke. His voice was hollow. “He was like an uncle to me. He taught me how to drive.”
Luca looked at his son, his heart aching. He had built this empire to protect Adrian, to give him a life free of the gutter Luca had crawled out of. But the rot had come from inside the house.
“Dante didn't act alone,” Luca said, turning back to Sofia. “A man like him doesn’t burn a fifteen-year cover unless he has a parachute. Someone is funding him. Someone bigger.”
Sofia shook her head. “I haven’t found a backer. But I did find something else in his office last week.”
Luca stopped pacing. “You broke into Dante’s office?”
“He’s arrogant. He leaves his desk unlocked when he’s on the floor.” Sofia reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of thick cardstock.
She slid it across the table.
Luca opened it. It was a receipt from a private aviation company. A chartered flight to Zurich. Scheduled for tomorrow morning.
But it wasn't the destination that made Luca’s blood run cold. It was the passenger manifest.
Two tickets.
One for Dante.
One for Adrian Moretti.
Luca slowly looked up at his son.
Adrian’s face drained of the little color it had left. He set the scotch glass down so hard the liquid sloshed over the rim.
“Dad,” Adrian whispered. “I swear to God, I don’t know anything about a flight.”
“Why would he book a ticket for you?” Luca asked, his voice deathly quiet.
“I don’t know!” Adrian panicked, standing up.
Sofia frowned, looking closely at the receipt. “Wait. Look at the date the tickets were purchased.”
Luca checked. “Three weeks ago.”
“What happened three weeks ago?” Sofia asked, looking between the two men.
Adrian looked away. He swallowed hard.
Luca crossed the room and grabbed his son by the shoulders. “Adrian. What did you do?”
Adrian’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn't mean to, Dad. I swear. I owed money. A lot of money. To the Morellos.”
Luca felt the floor drop beneath him. The Morellos were his oldest rivals. A brutal syndicate that had been pushing for control of the ports.
“How much?” Luca demanded.
“Two million,” Adrian choked out. “I lost it on the fights. Dante said he could fix it. He said he would pay them off quietly so you wouldn't find out. He told me I owed him my life.”
Luca closed his eyes. The betrayal cut deeper than a knife. Dante hadn't just plotted an assassination. He had manipulated Luca’s only son into becoming a pawn.
“The bomb wasn't meant to kill you tonight, Adrian,” Sofia said softly, putting the pieces together. “It was meant to be discovered. It was a theatrical setup.”
Luca opened his eyes. “To make me think the Morellos tried to assassinate my son.”
“Yes,” Sofia nodded. “You would have gone to war. You would have wiped out the Morellos, taking heavy losses. And in the chaos, Dante would have taken Adrian away to Zurich. Not as a guest. As a hostage.”
The heavy steel door of the safe house suddenly rattled.
Three massive thuds echoed through the concrete walls.
Luca drew his weapon. Sofia grabbed her silver watch.
The door didn't burst open. Instead, a thick white envelope was slid underneath the steel frame.
Luca motioned for his men to hold the perimeter. He carefully approached the door and picked up the envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
It was a picture of Luca’s late wife, Isabella. But she wasn't alone. She was holding a newborn baby.
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And standing next to her, with his arm wrapped lovingly around her waist, was Dante.
On the back, in black ink, was one sentence:He was never yours.
