Chapter 7 - THE PATRIARCH'S FATHER AND HIS LAST PROMISE
"My father died twelve years ago."
Vincent placed the gold watch beside my mother's silver one.
Both had stopped at exactly 4:16.
Both were connected to Samuel.
But only one bore a message from the man who had built the Moretti empire.
Anthony Moretti.
A name that still frightened powerful people long after his death.
Vincent looked at Daniel.
"Buddy, Marco will take you back to bed."
Daniel shook his head.
"Are you going away again?"
The question struck harder than anything Vanessa had said.
Vincent knelt.
"No. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Daniel hesitated.
Then he handed his father the stuffed bear.
"You can borrow Mr. Buttons. He helps."
Vincent accepted it solemnly.
"Thank you."
Only after Daniel left did Vincent examine the watch again.
"My father gave Elizabeth gifts occasionally, but I never knew about this."
"Was he close to her?"
Vincent shook his head.
"They barely knew each other. He died before we married."
"Then why would he give her a watch?"
Vincent stared at the inscription.
"I don't know."
I looked at the date stamped beneath the watchmaker's mark.
It was twelve years old.
Three years before Daniel's birth.
That made the message even stranger.
"Maybe it wasn't originally meant for Elizabeth," I suggested.
Vincent turned the watch over.
Then he noticed tiny initials engraved inside the clasp.
E.M.
He frowned.
"My mother's initials were Eleanor Moretti."
I looked up.
"Your mother?"
Vincent nodded.
"She died when I was twenty-three."
"Could this watch have belonged to her?"
He studied it.
"Possibly."
Suddenly, he reached for an old photograph hanging near the fireplace.
It showed Anthony and Eleanor Moretti at a charity gala.
Eleanor wore an elegant black gown.
On her wrist was a delicate gold watch.
The same watch.
Vincent lowered the photograph.
"That inscription wasn't written for Elizabeth."
He looked at me.
"It was written for my mother."
The realization shifted everything.
Samuel wasn't necessarily connected to Daniel's birth.
He might have been part of an older family secret.
Vincent began searching through his father's personal records.
Most had been digitized years earlier.
But one cedar chest remained in the study.
Inside were photographs, postcards, and a leather appointment book.
He opened the book to the year Eleanor died.
Several pages had been marked with blue stars.
The same stars my mother had drawn on her envelope.
I leaned closer.
"That symbol again."
Vincent examined the entries.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Samuel.
Beside it were references to private medical visits and a children's residence outside Philadelphia.
I recognized the address.
Not because I'd been there.
Because my mother had volunteered there after losing her hospital job.
St. Agnes Children's Home.
"Vincent, my mother worked with that organization."
He looked at me.
"How?"
"She helped with medical appointments and records."
Vincent ran his finger down the page.
Then he stopped at an entry dated two weeks before his mother's death.
Samuel's placement approved. Charles must never control the trust.
Vincent read the sentence twice.
"Trust?"
He searched further.
Another entry contained the name of the family's former accountant, Arthur Bell.
Arthur had retired five years earlier.
Vincent knew he was living quietly in a small town outside Philadelphia.
But before Vincent could reach for his phone, Marco appeared.
"Sir, there's something you need to see."
He carried a framed photograph recovered from a locked cabinet in Vanessa's dressing room.
The picture showed Eleanor Moretti seated beside a young woman holding a newborn baby.
On the back was written:
Samuel, six weeks old.
Vincent stared.
Then he turned the photograph toward me.
The young woman's face was unmistakable.
Not Elizabeth.
Not Eleanor.
It was Vanessa's mother, Catherine Laurent.
May you like
And beneath the photograph was a handwritten note:
"Anthony promised to protect our son. Charles promised to make him disappear."
