Chapter 12 - The Gilded Casket
Marcus carried the polished mahogany crate into the private library and placed it carefully on the desk.
The black wax seal was pressed with an emblem I had never seen before: a two-headed wolf circled by thorns.
Alexander did not allow me to touch it until Marcus ran a handheld scanner over the seams.
"Clear of explosives and chemical traces," Marcus reported grimly, stepping back with his hand resting on his holster.
Alexander took a silver letter opener and sliced cleanly through the brittle black wax.
He pulled back the heavy lid, revealing a velvet-lined interior.
Inside lay a fragile, yellowed document encased in glass, and beneath it, a tarnished silver pocket watch.
I gasped the moment my eyes fell on the silver watch.
The initials M.V. were engraved on the scratched casing—Miguel Valenzuela.
"That belongs to Elena’s father," I whispered, my voice trembling as memories flooded back.
"Miguel lost that watch the night the old Astoria warehouse burned down thirty years ago."
"Someone kept it all this time," Alexander noted, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.
He lifted the glass casing to inspect the parchment beneath the watch.
It was an unredacted charter bearing the signatures of five founding crime families of New York.
At the very bottom, signed in fading black ink, was the name Dominic Sterling—Alexander’s estranged uncle.
Beside Dominic’s signature was a blood-red thumbprint, registered to an anonymous witness whose estate owned forty percent of Astoria’s industrial docks.
"Dominic was exiled to Milan after my father took the leadership," Alexander said, the words bitter on his tongue.
"He was supposed to rot in Europe without a single dollar from the trust."
"He didn’t rot," I said, pointing at the fresh handwritten note tucked beneath the antique contract.
The ink was fresh, the handwriting elegant and razor-sharp.
*The nephew sits on a throne built upon stolen gravel,* the note read.
*Return what was promised to the wolves, or Astoria will burn from the water inward.*
Alexander crumpled the paper in his fist, his expression turning terrifyingly calm.
"He thinks he can threaten the people I promised to protect," Alexander whispered coldly.
"He thinks he can use Miguel’s ghost against us."
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"He isn't just threatening Astoria, Alexander," I warned, staring at the watch.
"He knows everything about the debt, and he intends to collect it in blood."
