Chapter 3 - THE SIGNATURE INSIDE THE SILVER WATCH
“Mrs. Wilson.”
Luca turned toward the house manager.
“Whose handwriting is it?”
Mrs. Wilson stared at the blue receipt.
Her face had gone pale.
“I would recognize those numbers anywhere.”
Vanessa grabbed the back of a chair.
“Don't listen to her.”
But Luca didn't even look at his fiancée.
“Tell me.”
Mrs. Wilson swallowed.
“Peter Lawson.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Luca's expression changed immediately.
“Our family accountant?”
Mrs. Wilson nodded.
“He used to write every household payment by hand. Your mother complained that his sevens always looked like ones.”
Luca looked at the receipt again.
Then he took out his phone.
“Daniel. Have Peter Lawson brought to the house.”
The security chief nodded.
“And make sure he understands that we're asking questions about estate records, not accusing him of anything.”
Daniel stepped into the hallway.
Vanessa moved toward Luca.
“Please, darling. You have no idea what you're starting.”
Luca turned.
“I know exactly what happened in this room tonight.”
His eyes moved toward my bandaged hand.
“You made an injured woman hold a seventy-pound mirror to hide paperwork you knew I would question.”
Vanessa began crying again.
“It wasn't supposed to last this long.”
“That's what you're worried about?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
She looked around at the guests.
“My father was going to announce the wedding date tonight. I needed everything to be perfect.”
Luca stared at her.
“My mother's dress. Claire's injury. A forged signature.”
He paused.
“Which part was perfect?”
Vanessa covered her face.
Nobody answered.
Luca turned to the guests.
“I'm sorry this evening has become something none of you expected. Daniel's team will arrange transportation for anyone who needs it.”
Then he looked at Richard.
“I'd like you to remain.”
“And me?” Anthony asked.
Luca studied him.
“You too.”
Within fifteen minutes, the dining room began emptying.
A doctor arrived and examined my hand.
The cut needed several stitches.
Luca immediately offered to have me driven to the hospital.
I tried to stand.
“Sir, I can finish clearing—”
“No, Claire.”
He pulled out the chair beside him.
“Your shift ended when you were injured.”
I looked toward Vanessa.
She watched us with an expression I couldn't read.
I was embarrassed by my apron, my stained sleeve, and the attention.
“I really don't want to cause trouble.”
Luca's voice softened.
“You didn't cause this.”
Then he looked at Mrs. Wilson.
“Please make sure Claire is paid for the full evening.”
My throat tightened.
“Thank you, sir.”
But there was something more important I needed to tell him.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“The woman with the bracelet left something behind.”
Everyone turned.
I swallowed.
“When she came through the kitchen, she asked whether Mrs. Wilson was working.”
Mrs. Wilson frowned.
“She asked for me?”
I nodded.
“She gave me a small package. Said it belonged with Isabella's things.”
“Where is it?” Luca asked.
“In the linen cabinet upstairs. I didn't know whether I should touch it.”
Vanessa suddenly stood.
“You had no right to keep something like that!”
I flinched.
Luca looked at her.
“Sit down, Vanessa.”
Her father gently touched her shoulder.
This time, she obeyed.
Mrs. Wilson went upstairs.
A few minutes later, she returned holding a small brown parcel wrapped in string.
Luca carefully opened it.
Inside was a man's silver pocket watch.
Its glass was cracked.
The chain was tarnished.
And the back carried a familiar engraving.
M.M. — Forever, Isabella.
Luca sat down.
For several moments, he simply stared.
“My father's watch.”
Mrs. Wilson nodded.
“He wore it every Sunday.”
Luca opened the cover.
The hands had stopped at 8:42.
“Why would Sofia have this?”
Richard leaned forward.
“Perhaps your father gave it to her.”
Luca shook his head.
“He never met Sofia. At least, that's what he always told me.”
Anthony gave a strange, exhausted laugh.
“Your father told you many things.”
Luca looked up sharply.
“What does that mean?”
Anthony hesitated.
“Matteo and Sofia knew each other before he married Isabella.”
The room became quiet.
Luca frowned.
“How well?”
“They grew up in the same neighborhood.”
“That's all?”
Anthony looked away.
Vanessa whispered, “Daddy, please.”
But Luca was already examining the watch.
The back plate seemed loose.
He pressed gently against the engraved edge.
A small compartment opened.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
He carefully removed it.
The handwriting was Isabella's.
I watched his expression change as he read.
Then he handed it to Mrs. Wilson.
“Please read this.”
Her voice trembled.
“Matteo, if Luca ever discovers the truth about September seventeenth, don't let him believe you acted alone.”
She stopped.
Luca closed his eyes.
“Keep going.”
Mrs. Wilson swallowed.
“The person who changed my medicine wasn't trying to help me sleep. I know what I saw in the kitchen. And I know whose silver cross was lying beside the bottle.”
Vanessa stared at the watch.
Anthony looked suddenly ill.
Luca turned toward him.
“Who wore a silver cross?”
Anthony hesitated.
Then answered.
“My wife.”
Vanessa gasped.
“Daddy!”
I looked toward the photograph hanging above the fireplace.
The Bellini family had attended Christmas dinner at the mansion the previous year.
I remembered Vanessa's mother, Margaret Bellini.
Elegant.
Soft-spoken.
Always wearing a small silver cross.
She had died eighteen months earlier.
Luca stared at Anthony.
“Your wife was in my mother's kitchen the night before she died?”
Anthony closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She was helping Isabella.”
“With what?”
Anthony rubbed his forehead.
“Your mother was preparing to leave the house.”
Luca went still.
“Leave my father?”
Anthony nodded.
“And take you with her.”
The words seemed to strike Luca harder than anything else that evening.
“My parents were happy.”
Anthony looked at him with genuine sadness.
“That's what they wanted you to believe.”
Luca stared at his father's watch.
I saw his hand begin to tremble.
Then Daniel returned.
“Mr. Moretti, I spoke to Peter Lawson.”
Luca looked up.
“Is he coming?”
Daniel hesitated.
“He says he will, but there's a problem.”
“What problem?”
“Someone emptied the family's old accounting archive this afternoon.”
Luca stood.
“Who authorized that?”
“According to Peter, you did.”
“I did no such thing.”
Daniel handed him a printed order.
Across the bottom was Luca's signature.
Luca looked at it.
Then at Richard.
“Another forgery?”
Richard examined the page.
“It appears to use the same digital signature file as the property transfer.”
Vanessa went pale.
Luca turned toward her.
“Who had access?”
She whispered, “Several people.”
“Names.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“Me. My father. Peter.”
Luca waited.
“And?”
She shook her head.
Then Anthony reached into his jacket and removed an old photograph.
He placed it on the table.
It showed Isabella, Matteo, and Margaret Bellini standing outside the Lake Geneva house.
Between the adults stood a boy who looked about twelve.
I recognized him immediately.
Luca.
But what caught my attention was the fourth adult standing partly behind Margaret.
A younger man wearing a dark coat.
Luca stared at him.
“Who's that?”
Anthony's face tightened.
“Someone your father paid to make sure your mother never reached the police.”
Luca leaned forward.
Then he recognized the man's face.
“Peter Lawson?”
Anthony nodded.
“And he wasn't carrying accounting records that night.”
“What was he carrying?”
May you like
Anthony looked toward the silver watch.
“Your mother's medication bag.”
