Chapter 3 - THE TIE THAT BINDS
The sickening sound of Vanessa gagging echoed through the dining room.
Luca’s large hand lifted her effortlessly off the floor. His dark eyes were empty, a terrifying void where his soul had been just minutes ago.
“You murdered my brother,” Luca whispered, the words vibrating with a lethal, suppressed fury.
“Luca, please!” Vanessa choked, kicking her legs wildly in the air.
“Mr. Moretti, stop!” I screamed, stepping forward and grabbing his arm.
He didn't move. He didn't even look at me. He was going to snap her neck in front of forty people.
“If you kill her now, you’ll never find out where the proof is!” I yelled, pulling on his sleeve with all my strength. “Daniel died trying to get that invoice! If you kill her, he died for nothing!”
That broke through.
Luca’s jaw ticked. He slowly lowered Vanessa, dropping her onto the hardwood floor like a bag of garbage. She collapsed, coughing and gasping for air, clutching her bruised throat.
“Clear the room,” Luca ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority.
The guests didn't need to be told twice. Within sixty seconds, the dining room was empty, save for me, Luca, Vanessa, and four heavily armed guards who stepped out of the shadows.
“Where is the invoice, Vanessa?” Luca asked quietly.
Vanessa looked up at him, her eyes filled with terrified tears.
“I burned it,” she wept. “The night Daniel died. I threw it in the incinerator at the warehouse.”
Answer one: Vanessa hadn't just watched Daniel die. She had destroyed the only evidence linking her family to Michael’s murder.
“Then why kill Daniel?” I demanded, tears streaming down my face. “If you burned the paper, why did he have to die?”
Vanessa looked away, unable to meet my eyes.
“Because Daniel was smart,” she whispered. “He knew I would burn the original. So before I caught him... he took a picture of it with his phone.”
My breath hitched.
“Where is the phone, Vanessa?” Luca asked.
“I don't have it,” she cried. “When my men caused the ‘accident’ with the forklift, they searched his body. The phone was gone.”
Open two: If Daniel didn't have his phone when he died, where did he hide it? And why did Vanessa hire me as a housemaid instead of just searching my apartment?
“You searched my apartment,” I realized, the pieces clicking together with horrifying clarity. “The break-in a week after the funeral. The police said it was kids. But it was you. You were looking for the phone.”
“We tore that apartment apart,” Vanessa admitted, her voice trembling. “We didn't find it. My father wanted to kill you, just in case Daniel told you where it was. But I convinced him to let me hire you instead.”
She looked at Luca, desperation making her voice shrill.
“I kept her close so I could watch her! I kept her busy so she wouldn't have time to look for it! I was protecting us, Luca!”
“You were protecting yourself,” Luca said coldly.
He turned to his guards. “Take her to the basement. Lock her in the holding cell. If she speaks to anyone, break her jaw.”
The guards dragged a screaming Vanessa out of the dining room.
I stood completely frozen, staring at the spot where she had been.
My husband had died trying to bring down a mafia boss's fiancée. He had hidden the evidence. And for eighteen months, I had been serving the woman who orchestrated his murder.
I felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of nausea. I stumbled backward, my knees giving way.
Luca caught me before I hit the floor.
His strong arms held me steady. He didn't call for help. He just supported my weight, his chest heaving with his own suppressed grief.
“Rachel,” Luca said softly, his voice grounding me. “Look at me.”
I looked up into his dark eyes. They weren't empty anymore. They were filled with a profound, shared pain.
“Daniel didn't die for nothing,” Luca promised me. “We are going to find that phone.”
“I don't know where it is,” I sobbed, clutching his suit jacket. “I packed all his things into boxes after the funeral. I haven't opened them since.”
“Then we open them tonight,” Luca said.
He helped me stand. He didn't let go of my hand as he led me out of the dining room.
“Where are the boxes?” he asked.
“In my room,” I said. “Behind the kitchen.”
We walked through the silent mansion to the small, cramped servant’s quarters. I opened the door. The room was barely large enough for a single bed and a dresser.
Stacked in the corner were three cardboard boxes labeled Daniel.
Luca took off his expensive suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
“Show me his things,” Luca said.
For the next two hours, we sat on the floor of my tiny room, going through the remnants of my husband's life.
Old work shirts. A baseball glove. A stack of romance novels he used to read to me when I couldn't sleep.
Nothing. No phone.
I sat back against the bed, exhausted and defeated.
“It’s not here,” I whispered, wiping my eyes. “Vanessa was right. The phone is gone.”
Luca picked up a small, wooden cigar box from the bottom of the last carton.
“What’s in this?” he asked.
“Just his watch and his wedding ring,” I said, my voice cracking. “The hospital gave them back to me in a plastic bag.”
Luca opened the box.
Inside sat a cheap, stainless steel watch. The glass face was shattered from the accident.
Luca frowned, turning the watch over in his large hands.
“Rachel,” Luca said, his voice suddenly sharp. “Did Daniel wear a smartwatch?”
“No,” I frowned. “He hated technology. He always wore that analog watch.”
Luca stared at the broken watch in his palm.
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“Then why,” Luca asked, looking up at me, “is there a micro-SD card glued to the back of the battery compartment?”
TITLE: THE CARD IN THE WATCH
