Chương 3 - THE GOLD WATCH
Nikolai didn’t ask Viriato whether he was certain.
That told me more than anything else could have.
Viriato Costa did not make careless statements.
If he said the medal belonged to his dead brother, it did.
“What happened to Tomas?” I asked.
Viriato looked toward the window.
“He worked for Nikolai’s father.”
“So did you.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“No.”
His voice remained calm, but something underneath it had tightened.
“Tomas discovered things he wasn’t supposed to discover.”
“What things?”
“Not tonight.”
I stared at him.
“Someone just tried to drag me out of a ballroom by threatening my baby.”
Nikolai stepped in.
“She deserves an answer.”
Viriato’s jaw moved once.
“He discovered that money from several legitimate Machado companies was being moved through charities and private foundations. Some of it came back clean. Some disappeared entirely.”
“Who was stealing it?”
“We never proved that.”
“You had twelve years.”
“We also had bodies.”
The bluntness of the words shut me up.
Nikolai crossed the room.
“This is why I told you leaving me didn’t necessarily mean leaving the danger.”
I turned on him.
“You never told me anything.”
“I told you enough to know what my family was.”
“You let me discover photographs of men with guns in your office. You let me read headlines calling you untouchable. Then you expected me to sit down over breakfast and ask politely whether the father of my child ran a criminal organization.”
Pain flickered across his face.
“I expected you to be afraid.”
“I was terrified.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know.”
“I found your sketch.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“The morning you left.”
His voice lowered.
“You packed everything except the drawing you made of me sleeping.”
I remembered it perfectly.
Charcoal on heavy cream paper.
Nikolai stretched across white sheets, one arm beneath his head, his expression peaceful in a way he never allowed when awake.
I had drawn it at three in the morning because I loved him.
Then abandoned it six hours later because I was afraid of him.
“I kept it,” he said.
Something in my chest twisted.
Viriato’s phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
“The ballroom access records are back.”
Nikolai turned.
“And?”
“The catering credentials used by the attackers were created through an external corporate account.”
“Whose?”
Viriato looked at me.
“Julian Castro’s company.”
My stomach dropped.
Nikolai’s expression hardened instantly.
“No.”
I pushed myself upright.
“I want to hear him explain it.”
“You need rest.”
“I need answers more.”
Twenty minutes later Julian was brought into the medical suite.
He no longer looked polished.
His bow tie was gone.
His hair had fallen over his forehead.
The cut above his eyebrow had been taped.
When he saw Nikolai, he stopped walking.
“This isn’t necessary.”
Nikolai smiled without humor.
“Then speak quickly.”
Julian looked at me instead.
“I didn’t know anyone was going to touch you.”
“Your company generated their access passes.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Because someone had been blackmailing me.”
Nikolai gave a quiet laugh.
Julian flinched.
“I made financial decisions I shouldn’t have made.”
“Stole money?” I asked.
“Moved money.”
“From where?”
“My company.”
“That’s called stealing.”
“Yes.”
His answer surprised me.
Julian looked exhausted.
“My father left debts. My mother’s house was collateral. I convinced myself I could replace everything before anyone noticed.”
“So someone noticed.”
“Yes.”
“And they told you to create security credentials?”
“They told me to provide access to tonight’s gala.”
“Did they mention me?”
He hesitated.
That was enough.
Nikolai stepped forward.
Julian raised both hands.
“They asked whether Serena was attending.”
My stomach turned.
“And what did you say?”
“That I didn’t know.”
“But you found out.”
Julian looked ashamed.
“I saw her name on an artist donor list.”
“You gave it to them.”
“Yes.”
Nikolai grabbed the front of his shirt.
Julian’s back struck the wall.
“Nikolai!”
He didn’t release him.
Julian’s face whitened.
“I didn’t know about the baby.”
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
The single word cracked.
“I knew enough.”
Nikolai slowly let him go.
Julian straightened his shirt with trembling fingers.
Then he looked at me.
“What I said downstairs was mine, Serena. Nobody paid me to say it. Nobody forced me.”
I said nothing.
“I was cruel because I wanted you to feel small.”
“Why?”
His mouth tightened.
“Because you stopped needing me before I stopped wanting you to.”
The answer didn’t earn forgiveness.
But at least it sounded true.
Julian reached into his jacket.
Viriato moved instantly.
“Slowly.”
Julian nodded and removed a small velvet pouch.
“They sent this three weeks ago.”
He placed it on the table.
Inside was a gold wristwatch.
Old.
Elegant.
Women’s.
The face was cracked near the number four.
Nikolai’s expression changed.
He touched it with one finger.
“Where did you get this?”
“I told you. They sent it.”
“Who?”
“No return address.”
Viriato picked up the watch.
Nikolai looked almost sick.
“What is it?” I asked.
“My mother wore that watch every day when I was a child.”
I stared at him.
“Your mother?”
“Elena Machado.”
He turned it over.
There was an inscription on the back.
Time to stop running.
Underneath were two initials.
S.F.
My breath vanished.
I moved closer.
The engraving was worn, but the letters were unmistakable.
S.F.
Nikolai looked at me.
“Serena?”
I touched the thin silver necklace beneath my dress.
My mother’s necklace.
The one I had worn since I was seventeen.
“My mother’s name was Sofia Ferrari.”
No one spoke.
I lifted my necklace from beneath the emerald fabric.
At the bottom hung a small oval locket I had never been able to open.
Nikolai stared at it.
On its surface was the same tiny engraved symbol carved into the crown of his mother’s watch.
A swallow with one broken wing.
Viriato went pale.
I looked from him to Nikolai.
“What?”
Viriato whispered something in Portuguese.
Nikolai’s eyes stayed fixed on my necklace.
Finally, Viriato looked at me.
“That symbol belonged to a private agreement between your mother and Elena Machado.”
I could hear my pulse.
“What agreement?”
May you like
Viriato swallowed.
“The one Tomas died trying to protect.”
