Chapter 4 - THE TICKING WATCH
Daniel locked the deadbolt.
“Put the paper down, Sophie.”
I clutched the child’s drawing to my chest, backing up until my legs hit the cedar chest. Daniel had worked for Luca for ten years. He was the man Luca trusted with his life.
“Mr. Moretti asked me to come in here,” I said, my voice trembling. “He told me to search the chest.”
“I know,” Daniel said quietly. His face looked tired, completely hollowed out. “He told me to stand guard in the hall. But I can’t let you show him that paper.”
“Why? Daniel, she’s keeping a child somewhere. She’s drugging him.”
Daniel looked at the floor, his jaw tight. “If Luca finds out about the boy, she’ll kill the kid. You think Vanessa works alone? You think a socialite organized those fake photographs by herself?”
My mind raced, putting the pieces together. “The man in the photographs… the one wearing Mr. Moretti’s shirt.” I stared at Daniel’s broad shoulders. His dark hair. “It was you.”
Daniel didn’t deny it. He just raised the gun slightly.
“She has my wife, Sophie. She took her three weeks ago. She told me if I didn’t help frame Luca for an affair that predates their engagement, she’d bury her.” His eyes filled with desperate tears. “Hand me the drawing. If I destroy it, she lets my wife go.”
He was a broken man, pushed to the edge.
But I looked at the sloppy green crayon letters. To Auntie V.
I thought about the 10mg sedative. I thought about a six-year-old boy waking up in a strange place, entirely alone.
“Daniel,” I whispered. “If she’s holding your wife, what makes you think she’ll let her go once the wedding happens? She’s taking over Luca’s empire. She’ll never leave loose ends.”
His hand shook.
“Look at the drawing,” I pleaded, taking a slow step forward. “Look at the date on the bottom.”
Daniel kept the gun aimed at me, but his eyes flicked down to the paper in my hand.
In the corner, written in adult handwriting, was a date: October 14th.
Daniel went pale. “That’s…”
“Three years ago,” I finished. “Daniel, whoever this little boy is, she hasn’t been hiding him for a few weeks. She’s had him for three years.”
The gun in his hand lowered by an inch.
At that exact moment, the heavy oak door burst open. The wood splintered around the lock.
Luca stood in the doorway.
He didn’t have a weapon drawn. He didn’t need one. The sheer, overwhelming fury radiating from him took all the oxygen out of the room.
He looked at Daniel’s lowered gun. Then he looked at me, clutching the drawing.
“Boss,” Daniel choked out. “I can explain.”
“Get out,” Luca’s voice was a low, terrifying rumble.
“Luca, she has my—”
“I know about your wife,” Luca interrupted, stepping into the room. “I found her an hour ago in a warehouse by the docks. She’s safe. My men are with her.”
Daniel broke down, dropping the gun to the carpet and burying his face in his hands.
Luca didn’t look at him again. He walked straight to me.
His eyes scanned my face, checking for injuries, before looking down at the drawing in my shaking hands. He took it gently.
He read the medication log. The sedative. The name. Leo.
When Luca flipped the paper back over to look at the crayon drawing, his breath hitched. He stopped moving entirely.
“Mr. Moretti?” I asked softly.
He touched the green crayon lines of the little boy. His hand was trembling. The impenetrable mafia boss was shaking.
“Leo is my nephew,” Luca whispered, staring at the paper. “He died in a car crash with my sister three years ago. I buried him.”
He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with a grief that had just been torn wide open.
“I buried an empty casket.”
Suddenly, a faint, rhythmic ticking sound echoed from the cedar chest I had left open.
Luca reached inside. He pulled back the lining.
May you like
Sitting at the bottom of the chest was a silver pocket watch. It was ticking.
And strapped to the watch was a bundle of dynamite.
