Chapter 6 - THE MAN WITH THE SILVER WATCH
At seven the next morning, Dante asked Henry to bring him every photograph taken at the estate during the previous twelve years.
By nine, three boxes stood on the library table.
Dante began searching.
Charity dinners.
Family celebrations.
Business gatherings.
In almost every photograph, Marcus Vale stood somewhere nearby.
And in almost every photograph, he wore the same silver watch.
A vintage Patek Philippe with a black dial.
Dante remembered his father giving it to Marcus.
A reward for loyalty.
Now he wondered whether it had become evidence of betrayal.
Anna entered carrying coffee.
She noticed the photographs.
“Looking for something?”
“A watch.”
She placed the cup down.
“Marcus's?”
Dante looked up.
“How did you know?”
“Daniel had one like it.”
Dante went still.
“What?”
Anna approached the table.
She pointed toward a photograph.
“That watch. Daniel told me it was important.”
“Why?”
“He said there were two identical watches.”
Dante frowned.
“Two?”
Anna nodded.
“One belonged to Marcus. The other belonged to someone higher up.”
Dante stared at her.
“Who?”
“Daniel never told me.”
Dante returned to the photographs.
Then he found it.
A picture taken at Luca's seventeenth birthday party.
Marcus stood beside Dante's father, Vittorio Moretti.
Both men wore identical silver watches.
Dante's breath caught.
His father had died four years earlier.
And according to Luca's notes, someone had been stealing from the children's foundation long before his death.
Dante sat down slowly.
Had his father known?
Had he done more than conceal the truth?
At noon, Dante met with an independent forensic investigator named Rachel Donovan.
She had previously worked in federal financial-crime investigations.
Dante showed her Luca's note and Daniel's photographs.
Rachel examined them carefully.
“This could be significant.”
“Can you prove who stole the money?”
“Not from this alone.”
“What do you need?”
“Original records. Bank statements. Witnesses.”
Dante nodded.
“Then you'll have them.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You understand your own company may be implicated.”
“Yes.”
“And you personally?”
Dante hesitated.
“I inherited operations I didn't fully understand.”
“That won't excuse unlawful conduct.”
“I know.”
Rachel studied him.
“Why are you doing this?”
Dante looked toward the garden.
Outside, Sophie was playing with Anna.
“Because a seventeen-year-old boy tried to tell the truth, and everyone around him failed.”
Rachel followed his gaze.
Then closed the folder.
“All right. Let's find out what happened.”
That evening, Isabella returned.
She arrived without warning.
Dante met her in the entrance hall.
“Isabella.”
She looked around.
“Where's Marcus?”
“On leave.”
Her expression tightened.
“Why?”
“Security concerns.”
Isabella glanced toward the staircase.
“Is the child all right?”
Dante noticed the question.
“She survived.”
Isabella looked relieved.
Too relieved.
Dante stepped closer.
“Did you know about the fire?”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“Did you know someone intended to set Sophie's room on fire?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why did you ask about her before I mentioned the fire?”
Isabella froze.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, “Marcus told me.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Dante stared.
The fire had happened the previous morning.
Isabella had known before he publicly acknowledged what happened.
He took a breath.
“The wedding is canceled.”
Her face hardened.
“You can't humiliate my family like this.”
“It's already done.”
“My father will destroy your business.”
Dante looked at her.
“Then he'll have to get in line.”
Isabella stepped closer.
“You think that maid loves you?”
Dante's expression changed.
“This conversation is over.”
“She wants your money.”
“Leave.”
Isabella's eyes filled with anger.
“You'll regret this.”
Dante opened the door.
“Perhaps.”
She walked out.
But before entering her car, she turned.
“You think you're different from your father, Dante.”
He said nothing.
Isabella smiled coldly.
“You're not.”
Then she drove away.
Later that night, Dante found Sophie asleep on the library sofa.
Anna sat beside her, reading.
The little girl had placed a gold star on Dante's favorite book.
Anna looked up.
“She wanted to wait for you.”
Dante smiled.
“She shouldn't have.”
“I know.”
He approached quietly.
Sophie stirred.
“Mr. D?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Did you find the bad man?”
Dante glanced at Anna.
“Not yet.”
Sophie opened her eyes.
“Daddy said the watch tells time.”
Dante smiled faintly.
“That's what watches do.”
She shook her head.
“No. The special time.”
His smile faded.
“What special time?”
Sophie yawned.
“Three-oh-three.”
Dante stopped breathing.
3:03.
The exact time Sophie had first entered his library.
He looked at Anna.
“Why does she know that number?”
Anna frowned.
“I don't know.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
Then whispered, “Daddy's paper says when the clock says three-oh-three, the stars wake up.”
Dante looked toward the old grandfather clock beside the fireplace.
It had belonged to his father.
For nine years, it had been stopped.
May you like
At exactly 3:03.
And suddenly, Dante understood that Luca's final secret might be hidden inside the clock.
