Chapter 3 - THE NAME ON MY FATHER’S WATCH
Claire stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
“My father never knew you.”
Roman did not answer quickly enough.
“He knew me.”
The words landed softly.
They hurt anyway.
Claire looked up.
“How?”
Roman closed the clinic door.
“Your father was involved with my father.”
“You told me he was an accountant.”
“He was.”
“That isn’t what you mean.”
“No.”
Claire gripped the Polaroid.
Her father, Daniel Mercer, had been everything respectable Roman’s world was not.
Quiet.
Dependable.
The kind of man who ironed shirts on Sunday evenings and kept emergency cash folded behind his driver’s license.
Claire remembered his funeral.
An empty coffin because the Coast Guard never recovered his body.
Her mother crying into a handkerchief.
Claire believing the sea had taken him.
“You lied to me for fourteen years.”
“I met you after he died.”
“But you knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
That answer was worse.
Claire slowly stood.
Pain pulled through her side.
Roman reached for her.
She backed away.
“Don’t.”
His hand dropped.
“Did you marry me because of him?”
“No.”
“Did you meet me because of him?”
Roman hesitated.
“Yes.”
Claire shut her eyes.
Everything inside her shifted.
Their first meeting at a charity auction.
Roman bumping into her beside the silent auction tables.
His surprised smile.
The coffee two days later.
Their first kiss outside her apartment.
Had any of it been accidental?
“You knew exactly who I was.”
“Yes.”
“From the beginning.”
“Yes.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Why?”
Roman reached into his pocket.
He placed something on the bedside table.
A watch.
Old.
Silver.
Scratched across the crystal.
Claire recognized it instantly.
Her father’s.
Her mother had searched everywhere for it after his death.
Claire picked it up with shaking fingers.
On the back were initials.
D.M.
Daniel Mercer.
And beneath them, something newly visible beneath years of scratches.
R.R.
Claire looked at Roman.
“Why are your initials on my father’s watch?”
“They aren’t mine.”
Claire stared.
Roman spoke quietly.
“Raffaele Rinaldi. My father.”
Claire almost dropped it.
Roman explained in pieces.
Daniel Mercer had kept books for companies controlled by Roman’s father.
Not criminal ledgers.
At first.
Eventually, Daniel discovered that Victor Kane—then a young enforcer working indirectly for the Rinaldis—had been using shipping containers to move weapons through Miami without permission.
Some of those weapons ended up in the hands of men who attacked families.
Children died.
Roman’s father ordered Kane out.
Kane refused.
Daniel copied records proving everything.
“Luca helped him,” Roman said.
Claire frowned.
“Serena’s brother?”
“Years later. Daniel hid part of the records before Kane could find them. Luca found another piece.”
“And Kane killed both of them.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“We believe so.”
“You believe?”
“There was never proof.”
Claire looked at the watch.
“So Serena has the proof?”
“She has part of it.”
“What part?”
Roman rubbed one hand over his face.
“A ledger key.”
Claire laughed without humor.
“Another half-answer.”
“It’s a sequence used to decode Daniel’s records.”
“My father’s records.”
“Yes.”
“And you carried this for fourteen years?”
Roman looked at the watch.
“I found it the night he disappeared.”
Claire’s anger rose again.
“You never gave it to me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because something was hidden inside it.”
Claire stared.
Roman took the watch.
He pressed the winding crown, twisted twice, then opened the back panel.
Inside was a tiny rolled strip of paper.
Claire forgot to breathe.
Roman unfolded it.
Four names.
Raffaele.
Daniel.
Luca.
Claire.
Her own name was written last.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve had this for fourteen years and you don’t know?”
“The writing is Daniel’s. Your name was added later.”
Claire studied it.
Something bothered her.
“No.”
Roman looked up.
“That isn’t my father’s handwriting.”
He froze.
Claire pointed.
“The first three names are his. Claire isn’t.”
She knew every loop of her father’s handwriting.
The final name was narrower.
Sharper.
A woman’s hand.
Roman took the paper closer to the light.
“Whose?”
Claire already knew.
“My mother.”
The revelation changed everything.
Her mother had always insisted Daniel’s death was accidental.
She had begged Claire never to ask questions.
After the funeral, she moved them from Coral Gables to Tampa within ten days.
Claire had assumed grief drove her away.
Now she wondered if it had been fear.
“My mother knew.”
Roman said nothing.
Claire looked toward the door.
“Where is Serena?”
“At another location.”
“Take me to her.”
“No.”
Claire glared.
Roman’s voice hardened.
“You were shot six hours ago.”
“I was grazed.”
“You’re eight months pregnant.”
“And apparently everyone around me has been deciding what truths I can survive.”
Roman flinched.
Good.
“I’m going.”
Forty minutes later, against every order from Claire’s doctor, they arrived at a fortified apartment above one of Roman’s hotels.
Serena sat at the kitchen counter with stitches above her eyebrow.
She seemed shocked to see Claire.
Then embarrassed.
“Are you okay?”
Claire almost laughed at the absurdity.
“I’ll live.”
Serena looked at Roman.
“You told her?”
“Enough.”
Claire dropped the hidden paper onto the counter.
“My mother wrote my name.”
Serena’s face changed.
That was all Claire needed.
“You knew.”
Serena looked down.
“Not everything.”
“What did you know?”
Serena reached beneath her blouse and removed a small silver rosary.
At the end hung a plain cross.
She pressed the center.
The cross opened.
Inside was a folded piece of onion-skin paper.
Claire stared.
“My brother gave me this before he disappeared.”
Serena unfolded it carefully.
Rows of numbers covered one side.
On the other was a handwritten sentence.
If Daniel’s daughter ever comes back to Miami, give her the watch.
Claire looked at Roman.
“You had the watch.”
“Yes.”
“And Serena had instructions to give it to me.”
Serena shook her head.
“No. Luca thought I had the watch.”
“Then why didn’t you know Roman had it?”
“Because Luca never told me he’d met Roman.”
Roman frowned.
“Luca came to me the night he disappeared.”
Serena stared at him.
“What?”
“He gave me Daniel’s watch.”
Serena stood abruptly.
“You never told me that.”
“You never asked how I got it.”
“You told me Kane took Luca before he reached you.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“I lied.”
Claire actually stepped back.
Serena looked ready to strike him.
“Why?”
“Because Luca asked me to.”
Serena’s eyes filled.
“My brother begged you to lie to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman looked toward Claire.
“Because Luca discovered someone close to both families had been feeding Kane information.”
Claire whispered, “Who?”
Roman removed another object from his jacket.
A child’s bracelet.
Tiny.
Gold.
Claire recognized it.
She had seen it in photographs from her infancy.
Her mother had told her it disappeared when Claire was two.
Roman placed it beside the rosary.
Engraved inside were two initials.
E.M.
Evelyn Mercer.
Claire’s mother.
Serena turned the bracelet over.
Then she went completely still.
“What?”
Serena lifted the bracelet toward the light.
Scratched beneath the engraving was a symbol.
A circle crossed by three diagonal lines.
Serena whispered, “That’s Kane’s mark.”
Claire felt her knees weaken.
Roman caught her elbow.
This time she did not pull away.
“No,” Claire said. “My mother hated criminals.”
Serena stared at the tiny bracelet.
“Maybe.”
Then she looked at Claire.
“But this bracelet wasn’t found in your mother’s house.”
Claire swallowed.
“Where was it found?”
May you like
Serena’s voice dropped.
“In Victor Kane’s safe.”
