Chapter 3 - The Silver Watch
"Uncle Adrian, you said you lost it," the boy whimpered, his tiny hands gripping the banister.
The gallery erupted.
"Uncle?" Caroline gasped, stepping forward, her eyes wide with shock and sudden, calculating ambition. "Adrian, you never mentioned you had a nephew living here. Where is his mother?"
"Grant," Adrian barked, his voice vibrating with lethal authority. "Get the women out. Now."
"Adrian, you can't be serious," Vanessa protested, clutching her sapphire bracelet. "We are your guests—"
"You were a test!" Adrian roared, the sound bouncing off the marble walls. "A test to see who would notice something of actual value in this house instead of blinding themselves with price tags. You all failed. Get out."
Grant Mercer didn't hesitate. He signaled the two massive security guards at the door. Within seconds, the protesting, furious women were being ushered out of the gallery. Their angry voices faded into the courtyard, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in their wake.
Adrian didn't look at me. He walked to the stairs, dropping to one knee so he was eye-level with the little boy. The ruthless mob boss was gone, replaced by a man handling glass.
"I didn't lose it, Leo," Adrian said, his voice incredibly soft. He held up the wooden frame. "Nora found it. She was keeping it safe for you."
Leo looked past his uncle’s broad shoulder, his dark eyes meeting mine. "You kept my mommy's lighthouse safe?"
My heart squeezed. His mother's drawing. That meant this boy was the son of Adrian’s late sister, Clara Vale, who had died in a tragic car accident three years ago. The media reported she died alone. They never mentioned a child.
"I did," I said gently, offering a small smile. "It's a beautiful lighthouse, Leo."
"Take him up to his room, Maria," Adrian ordered quietly as an older woman hurriedly descended the stairs, wrapping a protective arm around the boy and leading him away.
When Adrian stood and turned back to me, the softness had vanished. His eyes were cold, calculating. "You are very observant, Nora Bennett."
"I do my job," I said, holding my ground.
Before Adrian could respond, the heavy front doors slammed shut, and Grant Mercer stormed back into the room. His face was flushed with anger. "Are you insane, Adrian? You just insulted seven of the most powerful families on the East Coast because of a maid?"
"I protected my nephew," Adrian said flatly.
"You exposed him!" Grant snapped, stepping closer to me. "And she knows too much. Look at her, Adrian. She's nobody. A girl in a cheap uniform. She manipulated this."
"I didn't manipulate anything," I shot back, glaring at Grant. "I pay attention. Something the rest of you clearly forgot how to do."
Grant’s eyes narrowed. He stepped into my personal space, towering over me. "Listen to me, you little nothing. You are going to pack your bags, take whatever cash we give you, and disappear before I make sure you actually become a ghost."
He jabbed his finger at my collarbone to emphasize his point. As he did, his suit jacket shifted, and something heavy and metallic slipped from his inner pocket, clattering onto the marble floor.
Time seemed to freeze.
I looked down. It was a heavy silver pocket watch. Not a sleek, modern piece, but an antique with a very distinct, deep scratch across the glass face in the shape of a crescent moon.
The air left my lungs. My vision tunneled.
I knew that watch. Ten years ago, my father used to let me hold it to my ear to hear it tick. He was wearing it the night the police dragged him out of our house, arresting him for an embezzlement scheme connected to the Vale family—a crime he swore he didn't commit. He died in prison three years later. The watch had been reported missing from the evidence locker.
Grant quickly stooped down and snatched the watch from the floor, shoving it back into his pocket. He looked rattled, a flash of genuine panic crossing his arrogant face.
"My office, Grant," Adrian said, his voice dangerously low. He hadn't missed the exchange. He turned to me. "Nora. You stay right here."
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But I couldn't speak. I stared at the spot on the marble where the watch had fallen.
I hadn't taken this job just to survive. I had taken it to find out who really framed my father. And I had just found the first piece of the puzzle in the pocket of the man trying to throw me out.
