Chapter 3 - THE WATCH UNDER THE FLOORBOARD
Vincent moved first.
“Stay behind me.”
Claire didn't argue.
Not because she trusted him.
Because the sound downstairs had changed everything.
Salvatore closed the office door.
“Three men,” he whispered.
Vincent looked at him.
“You're sure?”
“Two at the entrance. One near the kitchen.”
Claire's pulse raced.
“How do you know?”
Salvatore pointed toward a small security monitor.
Three dark figures moved through the lower level.
Vincent's expression became unreadable.
The man Claire knew as her husband disappeared.
In his place was the man other people feared.
“Uncle, take Claire upstairs.”
“No.”
Vincent looked at him.
“She stays with me.”
Claire stepped forward.
“I’m not hiding.”
Vincent turned.
“This isn't a discussion.”
“It stopped being one when you put another woman in your office.”
His eyes flickered.
Even now, Claire could still hurt him with one sentence.
Salvatore almost smiled.
“Good. She's still herself.”
Vincent looked toward the monitor.
“Who are they?”
Salvatore's face became grim.
“Not ours.”
A loud crash came from below.
Claire instinctively covered her stomach.
The baby kicked.
Vincent noticed.
His face softened for half a second.
Then he reached for Claire's hand.
She allowed it.
Only because the house no longer felt safe.
They moved through a concealed passage behind the office bookcase.
Claire had lived in the penthouse for four years.
She had never known it existed.
The passage led to a private elevator.
Vincent entered a code.
The doors opened.
Claire looked at him.
“You built this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“For emergencies.”
“Clearly you've had a few.”
He didn't answer.
The elevator descended.
Salvatore stood beside them.
“The watch,” he said.
Claire held it tighter.
“What about it?”
“Your mother didn't leave that photograph by accident.”
“What was her name?”
“Eleanor.”
“I know.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“You knew the name. You never knew the woman.”
Claire frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Salvatore looked at Vincent.
“Tell her.”
Vincent remained silent.
“Vincent.”
He finally spoke.
“Your mother worked for my father.”
Claire stared.
“Doing what?”
“Accounting.”
“Accounting?”
“She kept records.”
“Of the business?”
“Of everything.”
Claire remembered her mother.
Quiet.
Careful.
Always locking drawers.
Always telling Claire never to repeat family conversations outside the house.
She had assumed it was ordinary caution.
Now she understood.
“She knew about the criminal operation.”
Vincent nodded.
“She knew about the money.”
“And she tried to leave.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Vincent looked down.
“She disappeared.”
“My mother didn't disappear. She died.”
“I know.”
“You said disappeared.”
“Because we never found her.”
Claire stared at him.
“My mother died in a car accident.”
“That's what the police report said.”
Claire felt the elevator become smaller.
“You don't believe that?”
“No.”
Salvatore spoke quietly.
“Neither did your mother.”
The elevator stopped.
They entered an underground garage.
A black SUV waited.
Vincent opened the rear door.
Claire didn't move.
“What did my mother hide?”
Salvatore looked at the watch.
“The key.”
“What key?”
“The watch contains one.”
Claire opened the back.
Nothing.
Vincent took it carefully.
He examined the hinge.
Then pressed a tiny notch.
The watch opened farther than Claire had ever seen.
A thin metal key slid out.
Claire stared.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
She took it.
“What does it open?”
Salvatore answered.
“Your mother's safety deposit box.”
Claire looked at Vincent.
“You knew this existed and never told me.”
“I didn't know where the watch was.”
“You had it.”
“I found it yesterday.”
“Why?”
Vincent's expression changed.
“Because someone has been searching for the same thing.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
The SUV suddenly shook.
A bullet struck the windshield.
Claire screamed.
Vincent pushed her down.
Salvatore drew his weapon.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Vincent looked at Claire.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He placed a hand near her stomach without touching it.
“Baby?”
“He's moving.”
Vincent closed his eyes briefly.
Relief crossed his face.
Then he looked at Salvatore.
“Get her to the hospital.”
Claire grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
“You need to be checked.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
His expression hardened.
“Claire.”
She shook her head.
“You told me this was business.”
“It is.”
“And Vanessa?”
“Part of it.”
“Then tell me everything.”
He stared at her.
“Not here.”
The garage lights flickered.
Salvatore looked toward the entrance.
“We don't have time.”
They drove to a private hospital outside Manhattan.
The doctors checked Claire.
The baby was fine.
But the stress had triggered contractions.
The doctor ordered rest.
Claire lay in bed holding the silver watch.
Vincent stood by the window.
He hadn't spoken for ten minutes.
Finally Claire said,
“Your father knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Your uncle knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And I knew nothing.”
Vincent turned.
“I wanted you out of this.”
“You married me.”
“I loved you.”
Claire looked at him.
“Did you?”
His expression broke.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you cheat?”
He looked down.
“Because I thought I could end it without bringing danger to you.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
He walked closer.
“Vanessa was working for a man named Adrian Vale.”
Claire frowned.
“Who is he?”
“My father's former partner.”
“What does he want?”
“The evidence your mother stole.”
Claire stared.
“What evidence?”
Vincent reached into his coat.
He pulled out an old photograph.
It showed Eleanor standing beside Adrian Vale.
Claire's heart sank.
On the back was another date.
October 14, 1991.
But beneath it were four words.
Eleanor chose Claire.
Claire looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent didn't answer.
The hospital door opened.
A nurse entered carrying a small envelope.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“This was left at the front desk for you.”
Claire took it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Her childhood bedroom.
Taken from inside the room.
And on the back:
YOUR MOTHER DIDN'T DIE IN THAT CAR.
Claire's hands went numb.
Vincent read the message.
His face turned cold.
Then the nurse added,
“There's one more thing.”
She handed Claire a small brass key.
“It was attached to the photograph.”
Claire recognized it.
It was identical to the key hidden inside her mother's watch.
Vincent stared at it.
May you like
Then whispered,
“There's a second box.”
