Chapter 2: The Dead Man's Signature
“That's impossible.””
Victor's voice was barely audible.
The officer tightened his grip on my arm.
“Mr. Romano, you'll have an opportunity to explain yourself at the station.””
Victor ignored him.
“Give me that document.””
“Sir, step back.””
“I said give it to me!””
For the first time that evening, Victor sounded genuinely frightened.
Leon watched from beside Clara, looking almost entertained.
“What's wrong, Victor?”” he asked.
“Recognize the handwriting?””
Victor stared at the paper.
“I recognize the signature.””
My throat tightened.
“That's my father's handwriting?””
Victor didn't answer immediately.
Then he looked at me.
“Your father was supposed to be dead.””
“That's what I've been telling myself for five years!””
The officer pulled me toward the exit.
I stumbled, nearly falling against a table.
Victor tried to follow, but Dmitri blocked his path.
“Don't make another mistake,” the bodyguard warned.
Victor looked at him with an expression I couldn't understand.
“You know what that signature means.””
Dmitri said nothing.
“Tell them,” Victor demanded.
“Tell them what happened five years ago.””
Leon interrupted.
“That's enough. The police have their suspects.””
I was dragged through the ballroom doors.
The last thing I saw was Clara placing a comforting hand on Leon's shoulder.
They looked like a couple celebrating an engagement.
Not two people who had just tried to murder someone.
At 2:17 a.m., I sat inside an interrogation room at the Manhattan precinct.
My black waitress uniform was stained with champagne. My left wrist hurt from the handcuffs, and my head was pounding.
A detective named Sarah Collins entered carrying a folder.
She looked exhausted.
“Lena Hart?””
“Yes.””
“I'm Detective Collins. I'm going to ask you some questions.””
“I've already explained everything.””
“Then explain it again.””
She placed several photographs on the table.
One showed Victor holding his champagne glass.
Another showed Leon entering the service corridor.
The third showed me standing behind the bar.
“Did you know Victor Romano before tonight?””
“No.””
“Did you have any reason to hurt him?””
“No!””
“Your bank account received a transfer of fifty thousand dollars yesterday.””
I froze.
“What?””
She slid a printed statement toward me.
The account number was mine.
The transaction was real.
But I had never received that money.
“Who sent it?”” I asked.
“An offshore company connected to Romano Holdings.””
I stared at the paper.
“I've never heard of that company.””
Detective Collins leaned back.
“Someone paid you, Lena. Then you attacked the person who supposedly hired you.””
“I didn't attack him. I saved his life.””
“That's what you claim.””
I pushed the photographs toward her.
“Look at the service corridor footage. Leon took that glass away. He came back with it.””
She opened her folder.
“We already reviewed the security footage.””
“And?””
“There's no footage of Leon entering the corridor.””
My mouth fell open.
“That's impossible. I saw him.””
“According to the hotel security system, you were alone in that corridor for eleven minutes.””
I shook my head.
“No. No, that's not true.””
Detective Collins studied me.
“Someone accessed the hotel's surveillance system at 9:42 p.m. The footage was overwritten.””
“Who?””
She closed the folder.
“That's what we're investigating.””
Then her phone rang.
She answered quietly.
“Yes... I understand.””
Her expression changed.
She looked at me.
“Victor Romano has been released.””
I blinked.
“Released?””
“His attorneys secured an emergency order. But there's something else.””
“What?””
“His security team has filed a complaint accusing you of assaulting him and attempting to poison his drink.””
I almost laughed.
It was so absurd that my body didn't know whether to cry or scream.
“Can I leave?””
“Not yet.””
She stood and walked toward the door.
“Someone is coming to speak with you.””
“Who?””
Before she could answer, the door opened.
Victor Romano entered.
His lip was swollen. A small bandage covered his forehead. His expensive suit had been replaced by a dark coat.
Two officers stood outside.
Detective Collins looked surprised.
“Mr. Romano, you weren't scheduled to—”
“I need five minutes.””
She hesitated.
Then she looked at me.
“Five minutes.””
The door closed.
Victor pulled out a chair and sat opposite me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked the question that had been burning inside me.
“Did you know my father?””
Victor nodded.
“I did.””
“Were you his friend?””
He looked down at his hands.
“I owed him my life.””
“Then why didn't you come to his funeral?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because I believed he was dead.””
I swallowed.
“Who told you?””
Victor slowly lifted his eyes.
“Leon.””
My hands curled into fists.
“You trusted him?””
“For twenty years.””
“And my father?””
Victor took a deep breath.
“Your father was the financial director of my company. Five years ago, he discovered that millions of dollars were being moved through accounts controlled by Leon.””
“Why didn't he go to the police?””
“Because Leon had evidence that could destroy both of us. He threatened your family.””
My chest tightened.
“My mother died two years after my father.””
Victor looked away.
“I know.””
I leaned forward.
“What do you mean, you know?””
He reached into his coat and placed a small envelope on the table.
It was yellowed with age.
My name was written across the front.
In my father's handwriting.
“I found this in a safe deposit box this afternoon,” Victor whispered.
I stared at it.
“How long have you had it?””
“Since this morning.””
“Then why didn't you give it to me?””
“Because I needed to know whether Leon was still watching you.””
I opened the envelope with shaking fingers.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
The first sentence made my blood run cold.
Lena, if Victor ever gives you this letter, it means Leon has finally decided to finish what he started.
At the bottom was a date.
Five years ago.
And beneath it, one final sentence:
Never trust the man who wears my father's watch.
I looked up.
“Whose watch?””
Victor's expression changed.
He slowly turned toward the glass window in the interrogation room.
Outside, a familiar figure stood talking to Detective Collins.
A man wearing a silver watch.
May you like
Victor whispered his name.
“Dmitri.””
