Chapter 4 - THE WATCH THAT KEPT TWO SECRETS
“My little brother?”
I stared at Vanessa across Luca's study.
Eleven years had passed since Oliver died.
Eleven years since I'd held his small hand in a hospital room and promised him I'd look after our mother.
Now the woman who had humiliated me in front of forty-eight dinner guests was telling me his name had been connected to Elena Moretti's medical records.
“That isn't possible,” I whispered.
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“I didn't say they were treated at the same time.”
Luca placed Elena's watch on the desk.
“Then explain what you mean.”
Vanessa looked toward the open study door.
“Account 417 wasn't a patient account. It was an internal foundation account.”
“For what?” Luca asked.
“Medical assistance payments. The foundation used it to process reimbursements between hospitals, suppliers, and participating clinics.”
Dr. Weber, who had been waiting in the adjoining room, stepped inside.
“That's consistent with what I saw in Munich.”
Luca turned toward him.
“You knew?”
“I knew the foundation used intermediary accounts. I didn't know this account number.”
I watched Vanessa carefully.
For the first time that evening, she seemed less interested in defending herself than in making certain she chose her words correctly.
“Oliver's care was processed through that account,” she said. “Years later, Elena's final hospital expenses were charged through the same arrangement.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Why would my wife's hospital bills go through a charitable foundation?”
Vanessa looked at the watch.
“That was the question she was asking.”
I felt my anger rising.
“You knew about my brother?”
She met my eyes.
“Not when he was alive.”
“When, then?”
“Three years ago. When I started reviewing the foundation's old records.”
I stepped closer.
“And you never told my mother?”
Vanessa looked ashamed.
“No.”
My voice shook.
“She still keeps his hospital bracelet in her bedroom.”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“I know.”
Those two words stopped me.
“How?”
She hesitated.
Then whispered, “I've been to your mother's apartment.”
I stared at her.
Luca straightened.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
Eight months earlier, my mother had told me a woman from a charitable organization had visited.
She'd brought groceries.
Asked about Oliver.
And offered to review some old medical expenses.
My mother had been grateful.
“She told us her name was Victoria,” I said.
Vanessa didn't deny it.
“Victoria is my middle name.”
I felt physically sick.
“You sat in my mother's kitchen and listened to her talk about her dead son.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell her who you were?”
“No.”
I thought of my mother carefully setting out her best cups for a stranger.
A stranger who belonged to the family controlling the foundation that had denied Oliver help.
“Why?”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Luca answered before she could.
“Because you were looking for something.”
Vanessa stared at him.
He pointed toward the watch.
“Just like you were looking inside Elena's piano.”
She began shaking her head.
“My father told me Margaret had something that belonged to the foundation.”
“What?” I demanded.
“An old payment receipt.”
I remembered my mother's habit of keeping everything.
Hospital statements.
Pharmacy invoices.
Insurance letters.
She stored them in a faded green accordion folder beneath her bed.
“Did you find it?” I asked.
Vanessa looked miserable.
“No. Your mother wouldn't let me take anything.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
That sounded like Margaret Carter.
She might welcome someone into her home, but nobody was walking away with her son's records.
Luca picked up Elena's watch.
“How did my wife know about Emily's brother?”
Dr. Weber answered.
“Elena was reviewing denied pediatric cases. Mrs. Carter's complaint appears to have been one of the oldest unresolved files.”
“But Oliver died years before Elena became involved,” I said.
“Yes,” Weber replied gently. “Unfortunately, financial misconduct can remain hidden long after the patients are gone.”
I leaned against the desk.
For years, I'd believed Oliver's death was simply a tragedy no one could prevent.
I wasn't ready to believe money could have saved him.
Dr. Weber seemed to understand.
“Emily, please don't assume that receiving those funds would necessarily have changed Oliver's medical outcome. We need to examine his records before drawing conclusions.”
I appreciated that he didn't offer me false comfort.
But it didn't change what someone had taken from my family.
The chance.
The dignity.
The right to know.
Luca studied the tiny paper from Elena's watch again.
“Why did Elena hide this information?”
Vanessa's eyes moved toward her father, who was no longer in the room.
“Because she stopped trusting the people managing the foundation.”
“Who managed it?”
“My father. His chief financial officer. And your former business adviser.”
Luca's expression changed.
“My former adviser?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Arthur Keane.”
I had heard the name before.
Arthur Keane had retired from Luca's organization three years earlier following an argument nobody in the household discussed.
Luca looked toward Daniel.
“Find out where Keane is living.”
Daniel nodded.
Then Luca turned back to Vanessa.
“You should have told me this before I agreed to marry you.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you?”
Vanessa looked at the engagement ring lying on his desk.
“Because I was afraid you'd believe your dead wife over me.”
For a moment, her voice sounded heartbreakingly ordinary.
Not cruel.
Not arrogant.
Just frightened.
Then Luca said, “Elena wasn't asking me to choose between you. She was asking me to protect children.”
Vanessa began crying again.
“And I failed Sophia,” she whispered.
Nobody contradicted her.
There was nothing to contradict.
A little later, Daniel accompanied Vanessa to a guest suite while the authorities were contacted to arrange a proper review of the records.
Luca didn't ask me to leave.
Instead, he sat down heavily behind the desk.
“I didn't know,” he said.
I looked at him.
“About Sophia?”
“About any of it.”
He stared at Elena's watch.
“I thought I was giving my daughter a stable home. I thought Vanessa understood what we'd lost.”
I sat in the chair opposite him.
“Mr. Moretti, Sophia doesn't need a perfect home.”
He looked up.
“She needs to know that when she tells you something, you'll listen.”
He nodded slowly.
Then looked toward the ceiling.
“I used to read to her every night.”
“She remembers.”
“I stopped doing it regularly when work became difficult.”
“She remembers that too.”
He closed his eyes.
I wasn't trying to hurt him.
But he deserved the truth.
After a long silence, he said, “I won't make her compete with my work again.”
Then he reached for the watch.
Its hands had stopped at 4:17.
The same numbers as the foundation account.
I noticed them first.
“Mr. Moretti?”
He followed my gaze.
“Four seventeen.”
He turned the watch over.
The crown was slightly loose.
He carefully pulled it outward.
Nothing happened.
Then Daniel returned carrying Elena's black notebook.
“Sir, I found something you should see.”
He placed the book beside the watch.
On the final page, beneath the account number, was a faint impression left by writing on a missing sheet.
Luca tilted the notebook toward the lamp.
Letters appeared in the paper.
THE WATCH IS NOT STOPPED. IT IS WAITING.
I looked at the watch.
Then at the tiny second hand.
It moved once.
Stopped.
And moved again.
Luca frowned.
“There's something wrong with its mechanism.”
He took the watch to the desk lamp.
Beneath the cracked glass, the dial contained a narrow second ring of markings.
Not hours.
Letters.
Luca gently turned the crown.
The inner ring shifted.
Three letters lined up beneath the number twelve.
E — M — K.
Luca stared at them.
Then whispered, “Elena. Margaret. Keane.”
But I noticed something he hadn't.
On the back of the tiny paper, almost too faint to read, Elena had written another message.
DON'T TRUST THE MAN WHO SIGNED FOR THE HOSPITAL TRANSFER.
Luca's face drained of color.
Because he recognized that signature.
May you like
And when he spoke, his voice was barely audible.
“The man who signed Elena's hospital transfer was my father.”
