Chapter 2 - THE SILVER POCKET WATCH
Gabriel did not lower his gun.
He stared at the elderly woman holding the two newborn photographs. The silence in the basement of St. Agnes was so absolute, I could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights struggling to stay alive.
“You’re lying,” Gabriel said. His voice wasn’t angry. It was completely hollow.
The woman didn’t flinch. She stepped out of the shadows, her sensible shoes clicking against the concrete floor. She placed the open medical file on the metal table between us.
“I processed the paperwork myself twenty-eight years ago,” she said softly. “Salvatore’s wife, Isabella, gave birth to a girl. The Commission expected a male heir. A daughter meant weakness. A daughter meant a bloodbath for the succession.”
She looked directly at Salvatore.
“So, the great Don Rossi made a trade.”
My mind spun. I looked at the man who had terrified half of Manhattan. He was leaning heavily on his cane, staring at the floor. He didn’t deny it.
Answer One. He gave up his own flesh and blood to keep his throne.
“Who am I?” Gabriel asked. His hand trembled. The gun wavered. The invincible mafia prince was suddenly a shattered boy.
“You were an orphan,” the old woman said gently. “Born the same night. Your parents died violently just hours before you were brought here.”
She reached into the deep pocket of her wool cardigan and pulled out a heavy object. She set it on the table next to the files.
A tarnished silver pocket watch.
“This was in your biological father’s coat when they brought him to the morgue,” she told Gabriel. “Salvatore paid handsomely to make sure no one ever looked for you. And he paid even more to make sure Tessa’s adoptive mother, Maria, received an envelope of cash every month to raise a child that wasn’t hers.”
My breath caught.
My mother. The woman lying in a hospital bed at Mount Sinai, suffocating under medical debt. She had taken money to keep me. She had known my whole life was a lie.
Open Two. If Maria knew, did she ever really love me? And who murdered Gabriel’s parents to make him available for the taking?
“Why let Angelo teach her the language?” Gabriel demanded, his voice cracking. “If you wanted her hidden, why keep her so close?”
Salvatore finally lifted his head.
“Because Isabella made me promise,” the old man whispered. “My wife knew what I did. It broke her heart. She made my brother Angelo swear to watch over Tessa. To teach her our ways. In case the Commission ever fell, and the true bloodline could return.”
A heavy, suffocating truth settled over us. I wasn't just a waitress struggling to pay bills. I was the true heir to the Rossi empire.
Gabriel looked at the silver pocket watch. He reached out to touch it.
Before his fingers grazed the metal, the small, high window at the top of the basement wall shattered inward.
Glass rained down on the concrete.
The old woman gasped, stumbling backward.
“Get down!” Gabriel roared, the mafia instincts overriding his shock. He tackled me to the floor just as a suppressed gunshot bit through the air.
The old woman slumped against the filing cabinets, clutching her shoulder. Blood bloomed dark against her sweater.
“They tracked us,” Salvatore gritted out, drawing a snub-nosed revolver from his tailored coat. “Richard’s men.”
Gabriel pulled me behind a row of heavy steel cabinets. He looked at me, his eyes wild, processing a lifetime of lies in a fraction of a second.
He looked down at the silver watch, snatched it from the table, and shoved it into my hand.
May you like
“Keep it safe,” Gabriel ordered.
Then he stood up, aiming his weapon at the shattered window, and fired.
