Chapter 7 - THE CLOCK THAT STOPPED AT 3:03
Dante stood before the grandfather clock.
The mahogany case rose nearly eight feet, its brass pendulum motionless behind cloudy glass.
He remembered his father ordering it stopped after Luca's funeral.
Vittorio had claimed the ticking reminded him of his youngest son.
Dante had believed him.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Henry entered carrying a toolkit.
“You asked for me, sir?”
“When was this last serviced?”
“Before Luca's death.”
“Who stopped it?”
“Your father.”
Dante looked at the hands.
3:03.
He opened the glass door.
Inside, the pendulum hung motionless.
Then he noticed a tiny gold star scratched into the brass beneath the clock face.
Luca's mark.
Dante felt his pulse quicken.
“Henry, a flashlight.”
He examined the back panel.
A small latch was concealed beneath the decorative woodwork.
He pressed it.
The panel opened.
Inside lay a sealed envelope and a miniature recording device.
Dante stared.
Anna stood behind him.
“Is that Daniel's?”
“I don't know.”
The envelope bore Luca's handwriting.
FOR DANTE — WHEN YOU'RE READY.
Dante opened it.
Big brother,
If you found this, somebody finally understood the stars.
I know you're going to be angry with me.
But I discovered that money from the children's foundation is being stolen through our shipping accounts.
Marcus knows.
Dad knows.
And someone else is helping them.
Dante stopped reading.
Anna touched his arm.
“Take your time.”
He nodded.
Then continued.
I don't think Dad ordered the theft. But he's afraid Marcus will expose the things our family has done.
Daniel says we can prove everything.
If something happens to me, remember this: I never blamed you for the things Dad made you do.
You were always my hero.
Love, Luca.
Dante lowered the letter.
For nine years, he had carried the belief that Luca died because of him.
Now his brother's words stared back at him.
You were always my hero.
Dante covered his face.
Anna stepped closer.
He didn't resist when she wrapped her arms around him.
For several minutes, he cried.
Not with the controlled grief he allowed himself at funerals.
He cried like a man who had spent nine years holding up a collapsing building and had finally been told he could let go.
Rachel Donovan arranged for a forensic specialist to examine the recording device.
Two days later, she called.
“We recovered part of the audio.”
Dante sat in the library with Anna.
Rachel played the recording.
Static filled the room.
Then Luca's voice.
“Daniel, are you sure?”
Another voice answered.
Daniel Cross.
“Yes. I checked the transfers.”
“If Dante finds out—”
“He'll do the right thing.”
A pause.
Then Luca said, “Marcus is coming.”
Footsteps.
A door opening.
Marcus's voice.
“You boys have been busy.”
Dante's hands tightened.
Luca answered.
“We know about the foundation.”
Marcus laughed.
“You don't know anything.”
Daniel spoke.
“We have the records.”
A long silence followed.
Then Marcus said, “You should have stayed out of this.”
The recording crackled.
A chair scraped.
Luca shouted.
Then the audio cut off.
Dante sat motionless.
Rachel stopped the playback.
“That's all we recovered.”
“Can you authenticate it?”
“We're working on that.”
Anna stared at the device.
“That was Daniel.”
Dante took her hand.
“Yes.”
She began crying.
For years, she had wondered whether her husband had been telling the truth.
Now she had heard his voice.
He had tried to expose the conspiracy.
He had tried to protect Luca.
And someone had silenced him.
That evening, Dante found Sophie beneath a maple tree in the garden.
She was arranging fallen leaves into a circle.
“What are you making?”
“A home.”
“For whom?”
“The stars.”
She placed a gold sticker in the center.
Dante crouched beside her.
“Sophie, why do you like stars so much?”
“Because Daddy liked them.”
“Did Mama tell you?”
“Yes.”
“And what else did she say?”
Sophie looked up.
“She said Daddy was brave.”
Dante swallowed.
“He was.”
The little girl smiled.
“Like you.”
Dante looked away.
He didn't feel brave.
He felt angry, guilty, and frightened by how close danger had come to Sophie.
But when he looked back, she was holding out a gold star.
“For you.”
“What's this one for?”
“For not giving up.”
Dante gently placed it over his heart.
“Thank you, princess.”
She climbed into his lap.
He held her carefully.
And as sunlight filtered through the trees, Dante made a decision.
He would no longer protect the Moretti empire at the expense of the truth.
Not for Marcus.
Not for Isabella.
Not even for the memory of his father.
May you like
Because Luca had died trying to expose what the family had become.
And Dante intended to finish what his brother started.
