Chapter 3 - THE WATCH THAT STOPPED AT 9:14
“Who made sure I couldn't talk?”
Nicholas moved so quickly that Daniel stepped backward.
Celia reached for Nicholas's arm.
“Don't threaten him. He was following orders.”
Nicholas turned on her.
“Whose orders?”
She said nothing.
Daniel stared at the floor.
“Mine were to get you to the hospital.”
“Then start there.”
I moved closer to Nicholas's mother.
Her hands had begun trembling again.
She pressed the blue scarf against her chest as though it were the only thing keeping her upright.
Daniel finally spoke.
“Your father had been drinking that night. He was furious because your mother refused to let him take you to a meeting at the warehouses.”
Nicholas frowned.
“What meeting?”
“A gathering with men from Milwaukee. Your father wanted you there.”
“I was fourteen.”
“I know.”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“He said you were old enough to learn the family business.”
Nicholas gave a bitter smile.
“That's how he explained everything.”
Celia folded her arms.
“Anthony was preparing his son for the world he would inherit.”
His mother suddenly spoke.
“He wasn't preparing him. He was frightening him.”
Nicholas turned.
“Mom.”
She shook her head.
“You deserve the truth. Your father wanted you to stand beside him while he punished a man who owed the family money.”
Nicholas stared at her.
“No.”
“You begged him not to make you go.”
He looked at Daniel.
The security manager nodded.
“I heard that part.”
For the first time, Nicholas appeared genuinely shaken.
I'd worked for him for nearly two years.
I'd watched businessmen become nervous when he entered a room.
I'd seen hardened men apologize before he asked them to.
But I'd never seen him struggle to breathe.
“My father taught me that family came before everything.”
His mother spoke softly.
“He believed that meant you belonged to him.”
Celia's voice sharpened.
“Anthony also loved that boy.”
“Love doesn't give a father the right to terrify his child,” his mother answered.
Celia looked away.
For one brief moment, something almost like shame crossed her face.
Nicholas turned back to Daniel.
“What happened after the argument?”
“You went upstairs with your mother. Anthony followed. I heard shouting, then something breaking.”
“And?”
“I heard a crash.”
Daniel swallowed.
“When I reached the staircase, you were lying near the landing. Your father was at the bottom. Your mother was screaming for someone to help.”
“Where was Celia?”
Daniel hesitated.
“She was there.”
Nicholas looked toward his aunt.
“Where?”
Celia's face went still.
“Your father's house was full of people. I don't remember exactly where everyone stood.”
Daniel continued.
“I carried you to the car. We couldn't wait for an ambulance because you weren't responding.”
Nicholas touched his temple.
“Why didn't you tell me any of this?”
“Your aunt said the doctors warned against upsetting you.”
Celia nodded quickly.
“They did.”
“But that doesn't explain twenty years of silence,” Nicholas said.
“No,” Daniel admitted.
He reached into his jacket and removed a small cloth pouch.
“I've carried something since that night.”
Celia's expression changed instantly.
“Daniel, put that away.”
He opened the pouch.
Inside lay an old silver wristwatch.
Its crystal was cracked.
The leather strap had been repaired with dark thread.
Nicholas reached for it.
“My father's watch.”
Daniel nodded.
“I found it near the bottom of the staircase the following morning.”
Nicholas turned it over.
Engraved on the back were three words.
When You're Ready.
His jaw tightened.
“He promised to give this to me when I was old enough to take his place.”
Daniel spoke quietly.
“He was wearing it the night he died.”
Nicholas examined the watch face.
The hands had stopped at 9:14.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Celia reached toward it.
“That's just a broken watch.”
Nicholas pulled it away.
“Then why were you afraid Daniel would show it to me?”
“Because you're turning every object in this room into an accusation!”
Nicholas looked at Daniel.
“Keep talking.”
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Your father was taken to St. Catherine's after you. He died there from his injuries. The police questioned your mother. They questioned Celia.”
“And me?”
“You weren't able to answer.”
Nicholas held up the forged statement.
“Yet somehow I signed this.”
Daniel lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“Did Celia write it?”
“I never saw who wrote the words.”
Nicholas approached him.
“But you knew they weren't mine.”
“Yes.”
The admission seemed to cost Daniel twenty years of strength.
“I should have refused,” he whispered.
Nicholas stepped away.
He didn't shout.
That frightened me more.
“Leave your keys on the table.”
Daniel went rigid.
“Nicholas—”
“You're relieved of duty until I know what happened.”
Daniel slowly removed his keys.
“I understand.”
Celia looked satisfied.
Then Nicholas added, “You'll remain available to answer questions. Nobody touches him.”
Her satisfaction vanished.
Nicholas turned toward me.
“Emma, could you help my mother upstairs? The blue guest room.”
His mother immediately shook her head.
“I don't want to cause trouble.”
Nicholas looked at her.
“You're not leaving tonight.”
“I don't want to force you to choose.”
“You haven't.”
His voice softened.
“Please stay.”
She nodded through her tears.
As I guided her toward the staircase, she paused beside the family portraits.
One showed Nicholas as a boy standing next to Anthony.
His father looked handsome and powerful.
Nicholas looked proud.
His mother stared at the photograph.
“He wasn't cruel every day,” she whispered.
I waited.
“That was what made it so hard. Some mornings, he was the man I'd married. By evening, I never knew who would come through the door.”
I thought about my own father.
He'd never been wealthy.
He'd spent thirty-six years repairing heating systems.
But he'd never made my mother afraid of coming home.
Suddenly, the Romano mansion didn't seem impressive at all.
It seemed terribly lonely.
After settling Teresa into the guest room, I returned downstairs.
Nicholas stood alone in the library, looking at the watch.
“Emma.”
“Yes, sir?”
“You can stop calling me sir when we're alone.”
I managed a small smile.
“That might take practice.”
He didn't smile back.
“Do you think someone can love a person and still hurt them terribly?”
I considered the question.
“Yes.”
“Does loving them make what they did any better?”
“No.”
Nicholas nodded.
“My mother lost twenty years. And I helped punish her without knowing it.”
“You believed the people who raised you.”
“I should have questioned them.”
“You were fourteen when this started.”
He looked at the watch again.
“I'm not fourteen anymore.”
Then he opened a drawer and removed a folder.
“Daniel mentioned my father's warehouses. I found something in the company's old records after the dinner ended.”
He showed me a typed itinerary.
Twenty years old.
Anthony had arranged a trip to Milwaukee with Nicholas.
Beside the boy's name was a handwritten instruction.
Bring him whether Teresa agrees or not.
Nicholas's fingers tightened.
“My father was going to take me away from her.”
I couldn't find words.
Then he turned another page.
It was a recent property transaction.
Signed two weeks earlier.
The signature was Nicholas Romano.
But Nicholas shook his head.
“I've never seen this.”
The property listed was Cicero Gardens, an apartment building in Oak Lawn.
I recognized the address.
“Your mother lives there,” I said.
Nicholas looked at me sharply.
“How do you know?”
“She gave it to me earlier so I could return a dropped glove if she had to leave.”
He read the next page.
The building had been sold to a redevelopment company connected to Celia's private holdings.
A demolition application was pending.
A notice to vacate had been prepared for every resident.
Nicholas stared at the transaction date.
“She signed this in my name.”
I looked at the list of affected tenants.
Forty-one households.
Many were elderly.
Nicholas turned the last page.
Attached was an instruction ordering the building's manager to begin removals the following morning.
May you like
He read the final sentence aloud.
“First resident to be removed: Teresa Romano. No extensions under any circumstances.”
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