Chapter 2 - She Woke Up in the Mafia Boss's Hidden Mansion and Found Her Dead Father's Watch—Then a Mysterious Recording Revealed Why Her Groom Wanted Her Married Before Midnight
Victoria Kensington had never been afraid of the dark.
Not when she was six and thunderstorms rattled the windows of her father's waterfront estate.
Not when she was twelve and insisted on sleeping alone in the guest cabin aboard the Evelyn Rose.
Not even when she was twenty-six and found herself standing in a Boston police station at midnight, holding a letter from a dead man.
But now, sitting in the back of an unfamiliar black SUV, she was terrified of what the darkness might be hiding.
Matteo Falcone sat across from her.
He hadn't spoken for almost ten minutes.
Neither had she.
Outside, rain slid down the tinted windows, turning the city into blurred streaks of yellow and white.
Victoria held her father's letter in both hands.
She had read it seven times.
Every time, the words seemed to become heavier.
He is the only man I trust to protect you from the people wearing our family name.
Her father had trusted Matteo Falcone.
The same Matteo Falcone whose name appeared in newspaper articles about organized crime.
The same man who had stormed her wedding with armed guards.
The same man who had dragged her away from the altar before whispering that Arthur Pendleton had arranged her father's murder.
And now he was telling her that her own aunt might have ordered it.
Victoria looked up.
"How long have you known?"
Matteo turned toward her.
"About Eleanor?"
"Yes."
His jaw tightened.
"Your father suspected her before he died."
Victoria stared.
"That's not what I asked."
Matteo studied her for a moment.
"Three weeks."
Her heart sank.
"Three weeks?"
He nodded.
"You knew for three weeks that my aunt might have killed my father, and you didn't tell me?"
"I was trying to verify the evidence."
Victoria laughed bitterly.
"Of course you were."
"Victoria—"
"No. Don't."
She looked toward the window.
"Everyone keeps saying they're protecting me. Arthur protected me from the banks. Eleanor protected me from the board. And you protected me by ruining my wedding."
Matteo said nothing.
She turned back.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to discover that every person you trusted has been lying?"
His expression changed.
"Yes."
The answer was so quiet that she almost missed it.
Victoria stared at him.
For the first time, she noticed the exhaustion beneath his eyes.
The tension in his shoulders.
The way his hands remained still, as though he was afraid of what might happen if he allowed himself to move.
She looked away.
"I don't know you."
"I know."
"And I don't trust you."
"You shouldn't trust anyone just because they tell you to."
Victoria frowned.
Matteo continued.
"Ask questions. Check the evidence. Make your own decisions."
She stared at him.
It was the first thing anyone had said to her in six months that sounded like respect.
Twenty minutes later, the SUV turned onto a private road lined with enormous pine trees.
Victoria leaned toward the window.
"Where are we?"
"Outside Concord."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because the police believe Arthur may still have people watching your usual residences."
She folded her arms.
"So you're taking me to your house?"
"A property I own."
"That's not reassuring."
Matteo almost smiled.
"I didn't expect it to be."
The vehicle passed through an iron gate.
Beyond it stood a sprawling stone mansion surrounded by gardens and tall trees.
Warm lights glowed through the windows.
The house looked more like a private retreat than the home of a feared crime boss.
Victoria stared.
"How many houses do you own?"
"Enough."
"That's a terrible answer."
"I've been told."
The SUV stopped beneath a covered entrance.
A woman in her sixties waited beside the front door.
She wore a dark green cardigan and had silver hair pulled into a neat bun.
Matteo stepped out first.
Then opened Victoria's door.
She hesitated.
He stepped back.
"Your choice."
Victoria looked toward the house.
Then toward the dark road.
She had nowhere she wanted to go.
Her Boston townhouse was probably being watched.
Her father's estate was controlled by lawyers appointed by Arthur.
And Eleanor had disappeared.
Victoria climbed out.
The older woman approached.
"Miss Kensington."
Victoria blinked.
"You know who I am?"
The woman smiled gently.
"Your father spoke of you often."
Victoria stopped breathing.
"My father?"
The woman nodded.
"My name is Rosa Moretti. I've managed this house for fifteen years."
Victoria stared.
"You knew him?"
Rosa's expression softened.
"Very well."
Victoria turned toward Matteo.
"What is this place?"
Matteo looked at the house.
"Somewhere your father came when he needed to think."
Inside, the mansion smelled of polished wood, fresh bread, and roses.
Victoria had expected marble floors, armed men, and expensive artwork.
There was some of that.
But there were also worn books, family photographs, and a large golden retriever sleeping beside the fireplace.
The dog lifted his head.
Looked at Victoria.
Then stood and approached.
She froze.
Matteo glanced down.
"That's Bruno."
The dog sniffed her hand.
Then leaned against her leg.
Victoria looked surprised.
"He likes me."
"He's a good judge of character."
She looked at Matteo.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
Bruno wagged his tail.
For the first time all day, Victoria smiled.
Only a little.
But enough.
Rosa noticed.
"Come, sweetheart. You must be exhausted."
Victoria followed her upstairs.
Matteo remained in the foyer.
"Victoria."
She turned.
He looked at her.
"The police know you're here. Detective Donovan has the address, and you can leave whenever you want."
Victoria studied him.
"Why are you telling me that?"
"Because you've had enough people making decisions for you."
She stared.
Then nodded once.
"Good night, Matteo."
His expression softened.
"Good night."
The guest bedroom was larger than Victoria's first apartment.
Cream walls.
A fireplace.
A four-poster bed.
French doors opening onto a private balcony.
Rosa placed a tray of tea on the table.
"I brought you something comfortable to wear."
Victoria looked toward the bed.
A soft blue sweater.
Black leggings.
A pair of slippers.
She frowned.
"How did you know my size?"
Rosa smiled.
"Your father used to bring gifts for you here."
Victoria froze.
"What?"
Rosa's smile faded.
"Oh, dear."
Victoria stepped closer.
"My father came here often?"
The older woman hesitated.
"During the last year of his life, yes."
Victoria felt cold.
"Why?"
Rosa looked toward the door.
"That's something Matteo should explain."
Victoria shook her head.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"I'm tired of people deciding what I can handle."
Rosa studied her.
Then nodded.
"Your father was investigating something dangerous."
Victoria swallowed.
"Inside the company?"
"Yes."
"Did you know what?"
Rosa shook her head.
"Not the details."
Victoria looked down.
Rosa continued.
"But I know he trusted Matteo."
Victoria stared.
"Why?"
The older woman's eyes filled.
"Because your father once saved him when nobody else would."
Victoria remembered Matteo's words outside the police station.
Twenty years ago, your father saved my life.
She looked up.
"What happened?"
Rosa hesitated.
Then whispered, "Matteo was seventeen."
Victoria felt cold.
"Seventeen?"
Rosa nodded.
"He was injured. Alone. And the men searching for him weren't coming to help."
Victoria stared.
"What did my father do?"
"He found him near the docks."
Rosa's voice softened.
"William brought him to a doctor and refused to tell anyone where he was."
Victoria swallowed.
"Why?"
"Because your father believed a frightened boy deserved a chance to live."
For a moment, Victoria couldn't speak.
That sounded exactly like William Kensington.
The man who stopped to help stranded motorists.
The man who paid college tuition for employees' children.
The man who believed kindness was something you did when nobody was watching.
Rosa touched Victoria's arm.
"He was a good man."
Tears filled Victoria's eyes.
"I know."
After Rosa left, Victoria changed clothes.
Then she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her father's letter.
The words blurred.
She thought about the wedding.
Arthur's smile.
The diamonds.
The recording.
Eleanor's photograph beside the Evelyn Rose.
And the terrible possibility that her father's death had been planned by people he loved.
She covered her face.
For six months, she'd tried to be strong.
She'd attended board meetings.
Signed documents.
Smiled at charity events.
Accepted condolences.
Planned a wedding.
She'd done everything people expected.
Now, alone in a stranger's house, she finally broke.
She cried until her chest hurt.
Until her throat burned.
Until she couldn't remember how to stop.
Then exhaustion took over.
And she fell asleep.
Victoria woke to sunlight.
For one beautiful second, she forgot everything.
Then she saw the unfamiliar ceiling.
The blue sweater folded over a chair.
The letter beside her pillow.
And remembered.
Her wedding.
Arthur.
Matteo.
Her father.
She sat up slowly.
A clock on the bedside table read 9:17 a.m.
Someone had placed a glass of water beside the bed.
Next to it sat a small wooden box.
Victoria frowned.
She hadn't noticed it the night before.
A note rested on top.
Your father wanted you to have this.
— M.
Her heart began pounding.
She opened the box.
Inside lay a silver wristwatch.
The leather strap was worn.
The face was scratched near the number four.
Victoria stopped breathing.
"Dad?"
She lifted the watch with trembling fingers.
It was William Kensington's watch.
He'd worn it every day for twenty years.
At business meetings.
On fishing trips.
At her high school graduation.
At the airport when he dropped her off for college.
She remembered teasing him about it.
"Dad, you could buy any watch in the world."
He'd laughed.
"Why replace something that still works?"
Victoria pressed the watch against her chest.
Then began crying.
The official investigation had listed the watch among the items lost at sea.
Arthur had told her nothing personal could be recovered.
But here it was.
In Matteo Falcone's house.
She looked toward the door.
Then stood.
Matteo was in the kitchen when she found him.
He wore a dark gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
A mug of coffee sat beside him.
Bruno slept beneath the table.
Matteo looked up.
"Morning."
Victoria held up the watch.
"Where did you get this?"
His expression changed.
He set down his coffee.
"Victoria—"
"Tell me."
He looked at the watch.
Then at her.
"Your father gave it to me."
She stared.
"When?"
"Six days before he died."
Her heart sank.
"Why?"
Matteo hesitated.
"Because he believed someone was watching him."
Victoria felt cold.
"He gave you his watch because he was afraid?"
Matteo shook his head.
"He gave it to me because he didn't trust anyone else to keep it safe."
Victoria looked down at the scratched face.
"What's so important about a watch?"
Matteo stood.
"May I?"
She hesitated.
Then handed it to him.
He turned it over.
Pressed a small indentation near the back.
A faint click sounded.
Victoria stared.
The rear casing opened.
Inside was a tiny memory card.
Her breath caught.
"Oh my God."
Matteo carefully removed it.
"Your father hid this inside."
Victoria stared at the card.
"What is it?"
Matteo looked at her.
"The reason Arthur needed you to marry him."
Twenty minutes later, Victoria sat in Matteo's private study.
The room had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and large windows overlooking the gardens.
A laptop rested on the desk.
Matteo inserted the memory card into a reader.
Victoria sat beside him.
Her hands shook.
"What are we looking for?"
"Your father stored several files here."
The screen displayed a list of folders.
Shipping records.
Financial transfers.
Internal correspondence.
And one folder labeled:
FOR VICTORIA.
Her heart pounded.
Matteo looked at her.
"Do you want to open it?"
She nodded.
He clicked.
Inside was a video file.
The date was six days before William's death.
Victoria stopped breathing.
"Play it."
Matteo hesitated.
"Victoria—"
"Please."
He clicked.
The screen went black.
Then her father appeared.
William Kensington sat at his desk aboard the Evelyn Rose.
He wore a navy sweater.
His hair was slightly disheveled.
He looked tired.
But alive.
Victoria covered her mouth.
"Hi, sweetheart."
His voice filled the room.
She began crying immediately.
"If you're watching this, then I wasn't able to tell you everything myself."
William looked down.
Then back at the camera.
"I wish I could say I made all the right decisions."
He smiled sadly.
"But you know me better than that."
Victoria laughed through tears.
Her father continued.
"There's something wrong inside Kensington Global Freight."
His expression became serious.
"Someone has been using our shipping routes to move illegal cargo."
Victoria felt sick.
"I found altered manifests, hidden payments, and accounts that don't belong to us."
William paused.
"I confronted Arthur Pendleton."
Victoria stopped breathing.
Matteo remained silent.
William continued.
"He told me I was misunderstanding the records."
He looked away.
"But I wasn't."
Victoria gripped the edge of the desk.
Her father's voice hardened.
"Arthur has been moving money through companies controlled by Eleanor."
Victoria closed her eyes.
Her aunt.
Her father's sister.
William continued.
"I don't know how long they've been doing this."
He swallowed.
"But I know they're trying to take control of the company."
Victoria stared at the screen.
Then her father said something that made her blood turn cold.
"Victoria, if Arthur ever asks you to marry him, don't."
She stopped breathing.
The room went silent except for the video.
William leaned toward the camera.
"He doesn't love you."
Victoria's tears fell.
"He wants your voting rights."
She shook her head.
"No."
William continued.
"The trust documents are complicated, but there's one thing you need to understand."
He paused.
"Your marriage can activate a transfer clause."
Victoria stared.
Matteo looked toward her.
William continued.
"If you marry Arthur before the trust's annual review date, he can claim control over the shares held in your name."
Victoria felt sick.
The wedding.
The rushed planning.
The insistence that they marry before the end of the month.
Arthur had told her the date was romantic.
That he'd chosen it because it was the anniversary of their first dinner.
But it had never been about romance.
William looked directly into the camera.
"I know you may not believe me."
His voice softened.
"But please, sweetheart, don't sign anything without independent legal advice."
Victoria covered her face.
She had signed.
Everything.
The papers.
The consent.
The agreements.
Her father had tried to warn her.
And she hadn't known.
The video continued.
"I've asked Matteo Falcone to help me preserve the evidence."
William looked down.
"I know his reputation."
Then he smiled faintly.
"But sometimes the people the world calls dangerous are the only ones willing to tell you the truth."
Victoria looked toward Matteo.
His expression remained unreadable.
William continued.
"If something happens to me, find Matteo."
He paused.
"And remember something I taught you when you were little."
Victoria whispered the words before he said them.
"Look where you're going."
William smiled.
"Your feet will follow."
The video ended.
Victoria began sobbing.
Matteo didn't touch her.
He simply sat beside her.
And waited.
It took nearly an hour before Victoria could speak.
She stared at the blank screen.
"My father knew."
Matteo nodded.
"He suspected."
"He knew Arthur wanted to marry me for the company."
"Yes."
Victoria looked down.
"And I signed everything."
Matteo's voice softened.
"You didn't know."
She shook her head.
"I should have."
"No."
He looked at her.
"Arthur spent months manipulating you while you were grieving."
Victoria stared at him.
Matteo continued.
"That isn't the same as making an informed choice."
Her eyes filled.
For six months, she'd blamed herself for not being stronger.
For needing help.
For trusting Arthur.
Now someone was finally telling her that grief had made her vulnerable, not foolish.
She swallowed.
"What happens now?"
Matteo leaned back.
"We take the evidence to Detective Donovan."
Victoria nodded.
"And the company?"
"We find an independent attorney who can challenge the agreements."
She looked at him.
"Do you know someone?"
"Yes."
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
"Someone who doesn't work for you?"
Matteo almost smiled.
"Several."
She nodded.
"Good."
For a moment, they sat silently.
Then Victoria asked, "Why didn't my father go directly to the police?"
Matteo's expression changed.
"He tried."
She felt cold.
"What happened?"
Matteo looked toward the window.
"Someone inside the investigation warned Arthur."
Victoria stared.
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
She swallowed.
"And that's why he came to you?"
Matteo nodded.
"He needed someone outside the company and outside the compromised channels."
Victoria studied him.
"And you agreed?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked at her.
"Because your father once saved my life."
She shook her head.
"That was twenty years ago."
Matteo's expression softened.
"Some debts don't expire."
At noon, Victoria met Matteo's attorney.
Her name was Evelyn Shaw.
She was in her forties, wore a navy suit, and spoke with the precision of someone who had spent her career arguing with powerful men.
Victoria liked her immediately.
Evelyn reviewed the documents Arthur had asked Victoria to sign.
Her expression darkened.
"This is aggressive."
Victoria felt sick.
"Can it be reversed?"
"Possibly."
Evelyn looked up.
"But we need to move quickly."
"Why?"
The attorney pointed toward a clause.
"Arthur arranged for the final transfer to become effective at midnight following the wedding ceremony."
Victoria stared.
"But the wedding never happened."
Evelyn nodded.
"Exactly."
Victoria exhaled.
Then Evelyn continued.
"However, the documents you signed may still give him temporary authority over several assets."
Victoria's relief disappeared.
"What does that mean?"
"It means he may try to act before the court can intervene."
Matteo leaned forward.
"Can we stop him?"
Evelyn nodded.
"We can seek emergency relief."
Victoria looked at her.
"How long?"
"Hours, if we can demonstrate immediate risk."
Victoria swallowed.
"And if we can't?"
Evelyn's expression became serious.
"Then Arthur may have enough time to move assets beyond our reach."
Victoria looked down at her hands.
Her father had spent forty years building Kensington Global Freight.
Thousands of employees depended on it.
And Arthur was trying to take it apart.
She looked up.
"Tell me what you need."
Evelyn studied her.
"You're prepared to fight?"
Victoria took a breath.
"Yes."
For the first time since her father's death, the answer felt real.
That afternoon, Victoria called Detective Donovan.
She told her about the watch.
The memory card.
The video.
The shipping records.
Donovan listened carefully.
Then said, "We need the original device and a forensic copy of the files."
Victoria nodded.
"You can have them."
Matteo watched from across the room.
When the call ended, Victoria looked at him.
"What?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
She frowned.
"You're staring."
Matteo almost smiled.
"You remind me of your father."
Victoria went still.
He continued.
"When William decided something mattered, he stopped asking whether the fight would be easy."
Her eyes filled.
"He always said I was stubborn."
Matteo nodded.
"He was right."
For the first time that day, Victoria laughed.
A real laugh.
Brief.
Unexpected.
But real.
Matteo smiled.
And something shifted between them.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But the beginning of something neither had expected.
That evening, Victoria wandered into the mansion's library.
She found shelves filled with books about history, architecture, and maritime law.
A framed photograph stood on a side table.
Matteo.
Much younger.
Standing beside William Kensington.
Victoria picked it up.
Her father had one arm around Matteo's shoulders.
Matteo looked about seventeen.
Thin.
Serious.
Almost frightened.
Victoria stared.
Rosa entered carrying fresh flowers.
She noticed the photograph.
"That was taken after Matteo recovered."
Victoria looked up.
"From what?"
Rosa hesitated.
Then said, "A shooting."
Victoria felt cold.
"Who shot him?"
Rosa looked down.
"Men working for his uncle."
Victoria stared.
"His own family?"
Rosa nodded.
"Matteo's father had died. His uncle wanted control of the family business."
Victoria swallowed.
"And Matteo was in the way."
"Yes."
She looked at the photograph again.
Her father had saved a frightened teenage boy.
Years later, that boy had become one of Boston's most feared men.
Victoria wondered what had happened between those two moments.
What choices Matteo had made.
What he'd survived.
And whether the man who stood beside her now was still carrying the frightened boy inside him.
At 9:42 p.m., Matteo received a call.
Victoria was sitting in the study reviewing documents with Evelyn.
He answered.
His expression changed.
"What?"
A pause.
Then his jaw tightened.
"Where?"
Victoria looked up.
Matteo listened.
Then said, "Don't approach. Call Donovan."
He ended the call.
Victoria stood.
"What happened?"
Matteo looked at her.
"Arthur's been seen."
Her heart pounded.
"Where?"
"At a private airfield outside Boston."
Victoria felt sick.
"He's leaving?"
"Possibly."
Evelyn stood.
"We need to notify the authorities."
Matteo nodded.
"Already done."
Victoria looked toward the window.
Arthur.
The man who had held her hand at the altar.
The man who had promised to protect her.
The man who had apparently helped destroy her father.
She felt anger rise.
Not the helpless anger of grief.
Something sharper.
Clearer.
She looked at Matteo.
"I want to see him."
Matteo shook his head.
"No."
Victoria's expression hardened.
"Don't tell me what to do."
He stopped.
Then nodded.
"You're right."
She stared.
Matteo continued.
"But I won't pretend it's safe."
Victoria looked away.
He stepped closer.
"Arthur knows you have evidence. He knows the wedding failed. And he knows the company is slipping out of his control."
She swallowed.
"He might hurt me."
Matteo nodded.
"Yes."
Victoria closed her eyes.
Then whispered, "He already has."
At 10:18 p.m., Detective Donovan called.
Arthur had disappeared from the airfield before officers arrived.
His private jet remained on the ground.
His phone was off.
And his lawyers claimed they had no idea where he was.
Victoria listened.
Then asked, "What about Eleanor?"
Donovan hesitated.
"We've located a property connected to her."
Victoria's heart pounded.
"Where?"
"Newport, Rhode Island."
Victoria froze.
Newport.
Her aunt's summer house.
The place where Victoria had spent childhood weekends.
The place where Eleanor had taught her to sail.
The place where William Kensington had celebrated his fiftieth birthday.
Victoria swallowed.
"Is she there?"
"We don't know yet."
Donovan continued.
"But we found something unusual."
Victoria looked toward Matteo.
"What?"
"A security company connected to Arthur has been paying for surveillance around the property."
Victoria felt cold.
"Surveillance?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Donovan hesitated.
"That's what we're investigating."
Victoria ended the call.
Then looked at Matteo.
"Arthur was watching Eleanor."
Matteo nodded slowly.
"Looks that way."
Victoria frowned.
"Why would he watch someone he's working with?"
Matteo's expression darkened.
"Because partners don't always trust each other."
Victoria stared toward the window.
Then whispered, "Or because one of them is planning to betray the other."
At 11:36 p.m., Victoria returned to her room.
She was exhausted.
Her mind wouldn't stop.
The watch.
The video.
The trust.
Arthur.
Eleanor.
Her father.
She sat on the bed and opened the wooden box again.
The watch lay inside.
Without the memory card, it looked ordinary.
Just a worn silver watch.
A small piece of her father.
Victoria lifted it.
Turned it over.
Then noticed something she'd never seen before.
A tiny engraving beneath the strap.
Three words.
Remember the tide.
She frowned.
Her father had often said that phrase.
Whenever they sailed together.
Whenever she worried about something she couldn't control.
"The tide always changes, Vic."
She smiled sadly.
Then looked closer.
Beneath the engraving was a series of numbers.
Not a date.
Not a serial number.
Coordinates.
Victoria's heart began pounding.
She grabbed her phone.
Entered the numbers into a map.
The location appeared.
A small island off the Massachusetts coast.
She froze.
She knew that island.
Her father had taken her there when she was a child.
They'd spent afternoons collecting shells.
Watching seals.
Eating sandwiches on the rocks.
He'd called it their secret place.
Victoria stared at the screen.
Then whispered, "Dad, what did you hide there?"
At 11:58 p.m., someone knocked on her door.
Victoria looked up.
"Come in."
Matteo entered.
He looked tense.
"Are you okay?"
She held up the watch.
"I found something."
He stepped closer.
She showed him the coordinates.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get those?"
"Inside the strap."
Matteo stared at the screen.
Then whispered, "That island."
Victoria felt cold.
"You know it?"
He nodded.
"Your father took me there once."
Her heart pounded.
"Why?"
Matteo looked away.
"He said if anything happened, there was something I needed to find."
Victoria stared.
"What?"
Matteo swallowed.
"He never told me."
She looked down at the watch.
Then back at him.
"We need to go."
Matteo hesitated.
"It's almost midnight."
Victoria stood.
"Then we go tomorrow."
He studied her.
For a moment, something like admiration crossed his face.
Then he nodded.
"Tomorrow."
But neither of them slept.
At 12:07 a.m., Matteo's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man's voice spoke.
Arthur Pendleton.
"Matteo."
His expression hardened.
"Arthur."
Victoria froze.
Matteo put the call on speaker.
Arthur laughed softly.
"Enjoying your time with my bride?"
Victoria stepped closer.
"I'm not your bride."
Silence.
Then Arthur's voice changed.
"Victoria."
She swallowed.
"Where are you?"
Arthur ignored the question.
"You have something that belongs to me."
Victoria looked toward Matteo.
"What?"
"The watch."
Her heart stopped.
Arthur continued.
"William's watch."
Victoria stared at the silver timepiece in her hand.
"How do you know about that?"
Arthur laughed.
"Your father was very predictable."
Matteo's jaw tightened.
"What do you want?"
Arthur's voice hardened.
"The memory card."
Victoria felt cold.
She looked at Matteo.
He remained silent.
Arthur continued.
"Give it to me, and I'll leave Victoria alone."
Matteo's expression darkened.
"You're not in a position to negotiate."
Arthur laughed.
"Oh, Matteo."
A pause.
Then he whispered, "You still think you're the one protecting her."
Victoria's stomach dropped.
"What does that mean?"
Arthur ignored her.
"Ask him what happened the night your father died."
Matteo went still.
Victoria turned.
"What?"
Arthur continued.
"Ask him why William's emergency call never reached the Coast Guard."
Victoria stared at Matteo.
His face had gone pale.
Arthur laughed softly.
"Go on, Matteo."
A long silence.
Then Arthur delivered the words that made Victoria's blood turn cold.
"Tell her who intercepted the call."
The line went dead.
Victoria stared at Matteo.
He didn't move.
She stepped backward.
"Matteo?"
His jaw tightened.
"Victoria—"
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"Tell me."
He closed his eyes.
She looked at the watch in her hand.
Her father's watch.
The secret recording.
The man she'd begun to trust.
Then she whispered:
"Did you know my father was in danger that night?"
Matteo opened his eyes.
Pain filled his expression.
"Yes."
Victoria stopped breathing.
He continued.
"I knew his boat was in trouble."
Tears filled her eyes.
"And?"
Matteo looked down.
His voice broke.
"And I didn't reach him in time."
Victoria stared.
For a moment, she couldn't hear anything.
Not the rain.
Not the clock.
Not her own heartbeat.
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Then she asked the question that would change everything.
"Matteo, did you let my father die?"
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