Chapter 5 - THE GOLD WATCH
Rain began to fall as Nicolo and I sprinted across the sprawling lawn toward the old carriage house. The darkness was absolute, save for the sweeps of lightning that illuminated the massive stone structure at the edge of the estate.
My fingers clamped tightly around the cold brass key in my pocket. Every step felt like a lifetime. Leo’s face kept flashing in my mind—his missing front tooth, the way he laughed when I tickled his ribs, the sleepy way he clung to me in the mornings. I was running on pure adrenaline and maternal terror.
Nicolo pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the carriage house. It smelled of motor oil, damp wood, and old leather. A vintage Rolls Royce sat under a tarp in the center of the room.
"Lucy said under the floorboards," Nicolo muttered, turning on a small flashlight. The beam swept across the dusty floor.
We scoured the ground. Near the back wall, behind a stack of old tires, I noticed a patch of wood where the dust had been wiped away.
"Here," I whispered, dropping to my knees.
I wedged my fingers into the gap between the boards and pulled. A section of the floor lifted away, revealing a dull gray metal safe embedded in the concrete. There was a keyhole in the center.
I took the brass key from my pocket. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped it. Nicolo gently covered my hand with his, steadying me.
"We will find him, Mara," he said quietly. "I don't make promises I can't keep."
I nodded, took a breath, and slid the key into the lock. It turned with a heavy, satisfying click.
Nicolo pulled the safe door open. Inside were stacks of manila folders, a velvet pouch, and a thick, black leather ledger.
Nicolo grabbed the ledger and flipped it open, shining the flashlight on the pages.
The scope of Sloane's operation was horrifying. It wasn't just waitresses. It was daughters of politicians, struggling actresses, girls desperate to pay off debts. And next to their names were the names of the men who bought them—judges, police commissioners, city councilmen, and rival syndicate bosses.
"She wasn't just making money," Nicolo realized, his voice thick with disgust. "She was gathering dirt. She was building an empire of blackmail. With these names, she could control the entire city."
"Look at the bottom," I pointed to a column of transactions.
There were massive payouts listed, hundreds of thousands of dollars, all funneled to a single offshore account. But it was the name attached to the account that made Nicolo freeze.
A. Russo.
"That’s impossible," Nicolo whispered, the flashlight trembling in his hand.
"Who is A. Russo?" I asked.
Nicolo didn't answer. He reached into the safe and pulled out the velvet pouch. He opened it and tipped the contents into his palm.
A heavy, solid gold pocket watch fell out. It was scratched and old, with a broken chain.
Nicolo stared at it as if he had just seen a ghost. He popped the cover open. On the inside lid, an inscription was engraved: To Antonio. For blood and loyalty.
"Antonio," I read. "Who is that?"
Nicolo looked at me, his eyes wide and haunted. "My father."
"I thought your father died in prison five years ago."
"So did I," Nicolo said, his voice barely audible. "We buried him. A closed casket. The warden said it was a heart attack."
He gripped the watch so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"He's alive," Nicolo breathed. "He faked his death. And he's using Sloane to rebuild his empire while I try to tear it down."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. The man Nicolo had mourned, the man whose legacy he was trying to clean up, was the mastermind behind the trafficking, the blackmail, and the kidnapping of my son.
Suddenly, headlights swept across the frosted windows of the carriage house. The crunch of gravel echoed loudly over the rain.
Nicolo killed the flashlight instantly, plunging us into darkness.
Doors slammed outside. Heavy footsteps approached the carriage house.
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"Russo!" a voice shouted from the rain. It was Richard Bradford. "We know you're in there! Sloane texted us from the study. Hand over the ledger, and we let you live!"
We were surrounded.
