Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Could Read Metal
Norah had never trusted powerful men.
Power made ordinary people careless.
It convinced them that rules existed for everyone except them.
Her father had learned that lesson the hard way.
Her father, Henry Collins, had once been a master watchmaker known throughout Chicago for restoring rare mechanical pieces. He had worked honestly, quietly, and with almost obsessive precision.
Until fourteen years earlier, when a wealthy client accused him of replacing a valuable watch with a fake.
The accusation destroyed his reputation.
Within six months, his small shop closed.
Within two years, he was dead.
Norah had never believed he had stolen anything.
She had never been able to prove it.
That was why she recognized the feeling in Sebastian Romano’s eyes.
It was the same feeling she had seen in her father’s face during the final year of his life.
A man who knew he was innocent but could not convince anyone.
When Norah arrived at Laurent & Vale the next morning, Sebastian was already waiting.
No security theater.
No locked doors.
No dramatic entrance.
Just Sebastian in a black coat, standing beside the elevator with a paper cup in his hand.
He offered it to her.
“Coffee.”
Norah took it.
She smelled it.
“Black?”
“You said coffee.”
“I said coffee, not punishment.”
He held out another cup.
“Vanilla latte.”
She stared at him.
“You remembered.”
“I remember everything.”
The words sounded less charming than they should have.
More dangerous.
Norah entered the elevator.
“Where are we going?”
“My house.”
“Residence.”
“House.”
“That quickly?”
“What?”
“You went from mafia boss to guy with a normal vocabulary.”
He glanced at her.
“I contain multitudes.”
Norah smiled despite herself.
The smile disappeared when they reached the underground parking level.
Three black SUVs waited.
“You travel like a president.”
“I’m less popular.”
“That explains nothing.”
Sebastian opened the rear door for her.
Norah hesitated.
“This car has bulletproof glass, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She got inside.
“Very reassuring.”
Sebastian sat opposite her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then he said, “You asked yesterday about the original necklace.”
“I did.”
“My mother received it when she turned twenty-five.”
“From whom?”
“My father.”
“Did your father commission it?”
“No.”
“Then where did he get it?”
“That is unclear.”
Norah leaned back.
“You said your mother wore it for twenty-three years.”
“She did.”
“Then what happened?”
“She stopped wearing it three months before she died.”
“Why?”
“I was sixteen. She told me she no longer trusted it.”
Norah stared at him.
“That is a very strange thing to tell a sixteen-year-old.”
“It was stranger to hear.”
“What happened after?”
“My father locked it away.”
“And?”
“The next year, my mother died.”
Silence filled the vehicle.
Norah stared at him.
“Car accident?”
“Yes.”
“Was it investigated?”
“Of course.”
“By police?”
“Yes.”
She studied his face.
“And you didn’t believe the result.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Sebastian looked out the window.
“Because my mother was not supposed to be in that car.”
Norah waited.
“She was supposed to be home.”
The sedan stopped beneath an enormous limestone residence overlooking Lake Michigan.
Norah had expected something colder.
Instead, the house was beautiful.
Old money beautiful.
Warm wood. Art. Tall windows. A grand staircase that probably cost more than her entire neighborhood.
But there was something else.
Silence.
Not peaceful silence.
The kind that collected inside rooms after people stopped asking questions.
Sebastian led her into a private study.
A large table already held photographs.
Norah leaned closer.
There were images of Evelyn Romano at charity galas, family dinners, horse races, Christmas gatherings.
And in almost every photograph, she wore the necklace.
Norah pointed.
“Here.”
Sebastian moved beside her.
“What?”
“The center ruby.”
“What about it?”
“In every photo from before the final year, it hangs one degree lower.”
He frowned.
Norah flipped through the images.
“This photo.”
She tapped the screen.
“Your mother is wearing the necklace six months before she stopped.”
“Yes.”
“Look.”
Sebastian bent closer.
The ruby tilted naturally because of the old setting.
“This is not the same necklace as the replica.”
He stared.
“How can you tell?”
“The side diamonds.”
She zoomed in.
“They were hand-cut.”
“And the replica?”
“Modern calibrated stones.”
Sebastian looked at her.
“You’re certain.”
“Yes.”
He remained silent.
Then he asked, “What else?”
Norah spent almost an hour comparing old photographs with the replica.
Eventually she noticed something more unsettling.
“The original had a hidden compartment.”
Sebastian’s head snapped toward her.
“What?”
“Here.”
She pointed beneath the center setting.
“Your mother’s necklace had a cavity.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you open it?”
“Not without destroying the setting.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened.
He remembered what she had done the previous evening.
“You seem unusually comfortable destroying expensive things.”
“Only when expensive things are lying.”
For a moment, their eyes met.
Then Sebastian smiled.
It was small.
Unexpected.
Human.
Norah looked away before she could understand why her pulse changed.
A sound came from the doorway.
An older woman stood there.
Grace Romano.
Sebastian’s aunt.
She looked at Norah for a long time.
Then at the broken clasp.
“You opened it.”
Norah stood.
“Yes.”
Grace’s face had gone white.
“You shouldn’t have.”
Sebastian turned.
“You know what was inside?”
Grace’s eyes filled with fear.
“I know what your mother hid.”
The room went still.
Sebastian stepped forward.
“What did she hide?”
Grace shook her head.
“Not here.”
“Aunt Grace.”
“Not here.”
Norah noticed something.
Grace kept glancing toward the hallway.
Someone else was listening.
Sebastian noticed it too.
He turned toward the door.
Luca appeared instantly.
“Empty the hall.”
Two guards moved.
Grace swallowed.
Then she looked at Norah.
“Your father worked on this necklace.”
Norah froze.
“What?”
“Henry Collins.”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
“You knew my father?”
Grace nodded.
“He was one of the last people your mother trusted.”
Sebastian looked between them.
“My father?”
Grace whispered, “Henry didn’t steal the watch.”
Norah’s breathing stopped.
Sebastian stared at her.
“What watch?”
Norah could barely speak.
“My father repaired a Romano family watch fourteen years ago.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“Not repaired.”
“What?”
“He found something inside it.”
Norah’s hands trembled.
“What?”
Grace looked at Sebastian.
“Proof.”
The word landed like a gunshot.
“Proof of what?” Sebastian demanded.
Grace did not answer.
Instead, she reached into the pocket of her cardigan and removed a folded photograph.
She handed it to Norah.
Norah opened it.
Her father was standing beside Evelyn Romano.
Both were smiling.
Between them sat a small jewelry case.
On the case was the Romano family crest.
The photograph was dated eleven months before Evelyn died.
Norah looked up.
“My father told me he had never met her.”
Grace whispered, “He lied to protect you.”
Sebastian took the photograph.
“Why?”
Before Grace could answer, a loud crash echoed from downstairs.
Luca drew his weapon.
Sebastian pushed Norah behind him.
“Stay here.”
Another crash.
Then gunfire.
Glass shattered.
Grace screamed.
Sebastian turned toward the hall.
Luca barked instructions into his radio.
Norah heard footsteps.
Several men.
Not guards.
Intruders.
Sebastian looked at her.
“Can you run?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He grabbed her hand.
They moved through a hidden passage behind the study shelves.
Norah almost stumbled.
“You have a secret tunnel?”
“It comes in handy.”
“For what?”
“Family disagreements.”
Bullets struck the wall behind them.
Norah ducked.
They reached a steel door.
Sebastian entered a code.
Before it opened, Grace appeared behind them.
“No!”
Sebastian turned.
Grace pressed something into his hand.
A tiny brass key.
“Your mother told me to give this to you only when the girl found the clasp.”
Sebastian stared at her.
“Which girl?”
Grace looked directly at Norah.
“Henry’s daughter.”
The steel door opened.
Sebastian pulled Norah through.
Grace stayed behind.
“Come with us!” Norah shouted.
Grace smiled sadly.
“I’m tired of running.”
The door shut.
Sebastian locked it.
Norah grabbed his sleeve.
“What does the key open?”
He looked at the brass key.
“I don’t know.”
A violent explosion shook the house.
Sebastian’s face hardened.
“Apparently someone knows.”
He pulled out his phone.
“One of my men has been shot.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Norah looked at the key again.
“Someone wanted that key badly enough to attack your house.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Which means they are afraid of what your father knew.”
Norah stared at him.
“My father died believing no one had believed him.”
Sebastian’s expression softened.
“Then maybe we should make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”
For the first time since meeting him, Norah realized something terrifying.
She was no longer merely investigating a counterfeit necklace.
May you like
She was standing in the middle of a secret that had already killed once.
And someone wanted to finish the job.
