Chapter 3 - THE WATCHMAKER’S LEDGER
"Nobody leaves this room." Luca's voice wasn't a shout. It was a terrifyingly calm command that locked all thirty-six wealthy guests in place. He slowly bent down and picked up the scratched silver pocket watch. He turned it over in his large hands. Vanessa was trembling so violently her red gown rustled. "Luca, it's just a watch. A lot of people have silver watches!" "Carlo told me he bought this watch in Italy ten years ago," Luca said, his eyes fixed on the silver casing. "But Joe saw it thirty-three years ago." I stood frozen behind the wheelchair. The realization hit me like a physical blow. Carlo Bellini, the man who had been like a second father to Luca, was the arsonist. He had murdered Luca's mother. And then he had raised the housekeeper's orphaned daughter as his own. Why? "Emma," Luca said, not taking his eyes off Vanessa. "Y-yes, sir?" I stammered. "Take Joe to my private study. Lock the door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone but me." "Yes, sir." I turned the wheelchair. As I pushed Joe toward the corridor, Vanessa lunged forward. "You can't do this!" she screamed, her polished facade completely shattering. "My father is your underboss! He made you who you are!" "He made me an orphan," Luca replied coldly. I pushed Joe through the heavy double doors, leaving the chaos behind. The mansion's corridors were silent. I wheeled the old man into Luca's expansive mahogany study and locked the heavy door just as I was told. Joe sat in his chair, staring at his battered lunchbox. "I should have come sooner," he whispered, tears spilling down his wrinkled cheeks. "I was just so scared, Emma. After the fire, a man came to my hospital room. He told me if I ever spoke about the watch, he would kill my sister." I knelt beside him and gently took his trembling hand. "You're safe now, Joe. Luca will protect you." "You don't understand," Joe said, shaking his head. "The man who threatened me... he wasn't Carlo Bellini." I froze. "What?" "I knew Carlo. He was just a low-level driver back then. The man who threatened me was a teenager. A kid with a scar above his left eyebrow." My blood ran cold. A scar above his left eyebrow. I knew that scar. It belonged to Marcus, Luca's head of security. The man who was currently standing guard outside the ballroom doors. If Marcus was involved, then the conspiracy went much deeper than Carlo. "Joe, are you absolutely sure?" I asked, my heart pounding. Before he could answer, the handle of the study door rattled. Someone was trying to get in. "Open the door, Emma." It was Marcus's voice. Deep, muffled, and demanding. "Mr. Moretti told me to lock it," I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. "There's been a security breach," Marcus replied smoothly. "Luca sent me to move the old man to the safe room. Open it now." I looked at Joe. He was terrified. I backed away from the door. "I need to hear Luca say it." Silence. Then, I heard the distinct, metallic click of a key turning in the lock. Marcus had the master keys. I desperately looked around the room. My eyes landed on Luca's massive desk. I shoved the wheelchair behind it, out of direct sight, just as the heavy door swung open. Marcus stepped inside. His hand was resting on the gun holstered at his hip. He smiled at me, the scar above his eyebrow twitching. "You're a very stubborn maid, Emma." "What do you want?" I asked, stepping between him and the desk. Marcus pulled the gun from his holster. "I want the old man," he said coldly. "And I want the lunchbox." Suddenly, a heavy leather-bound book tumbled off the top shelf of the bookcase to my right, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Marcus flinched, aiming his gun at the noise. In that split second, I grabbed the heavy brass lamp from Luca's desk and swung it as hard as I could.
