Chapter 5 - The Villa Outside Rome
Sophia wanted to run straight into Vittorio Cardone's villa.
Alessio wanted to stop her.
Neither got exactly what they wanted.
The villa stood beyond Rome behind stone walls, cypress trees, and private security.
Alessio's people mapped entrances.
Marco Cardone contacted them unexpectedly.
He wanted Vittorio stopped.
Sophia didn't trust him.
Alessio trusted him even less.
But Marco knew the property.
“He uses the old wine tunnel,” Marco said over an encrypted call. “South wall. Behind the abandoned chapel.”
“Why tell us?” Alessio asked.
“Because my uncle intends to kill me next.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
“It becomes yours when he sends twelve men toward your city afterward.”
Sophia took the phone.
“Is my father alive?”
Marco hesitated.
“Yes.”
She exhaled.
“The gunshot?”
“Warning.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw him ten minutes ago.”
“Then help us get him out.”
Marco went silent.
“That will cost me everything.”
Sophia's voice hardened.
“My father risked everything nine years ago because he found a wounded stranger in a warehouse. You can decide what kind of man you are without charging me for it.”
Marco said nothing.
Then:
“South tunnel. Eleven minutes. After that, you're on your own.”
The call ended.
Alessio looked at Sophia.
“You have an unfortunate talent for speaking to dangerous men.”
“I learned recently.”
“You're improving.”
The tunnel entrance was exactly where Marco promised.
Old stone steps descended beneath the chapel.
Sophia wore dark clothes and flat shoes.
Alessio had argued against bringing her.
She refused.
“If Vittorio wants the ledger, he needs me.”
“He needs the ledger.”
“He also wants leverage.”
“You are not leverage.”
“I am if my father is there.”
Alessio stared.
“You're willing to use yourself as bait.”
“I’m willing to get my father back.”
“That distinction won't matter if you're dead.”
Sophia stepped closer.
“Then don't let me die.”
The words landed differently than she intended.
Alessio looked at her.
For several seconds, the tunnel seemed too small.
Too quiet.
“I won't,” he said.
They moved.
Two guards ahead.
Alessio and Sophia behind.
Three more men entered later to avoid noise.
The tunnel ended beneath the villa's wine cellar.
They emerged into darkness.
A security camera rotated slowly.
One guard disabled it.
“Seven minutes,” he whispered.
Sophia's heartbeat pounded in her ears.
They passed shelves of expensive wine.
Then a service corridor.
Voices overhead.
Vittorio's men.
Alessio led them toward a narrow staircase.
Halfway up, Marco appeared.
Sophia nearly shouted.
Alessio's gun was already raised.
Marco lifted both hands.
“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing.”
“Where is Thomas?”
“Library.”
“Vittorio?”
“With him.”
“How many?”
“Five inside. More outside.”
Alessio's jaw tightened.
“Bad odds.”
Marco almost smiled.
“You've survived worse.”
“Not with her.”
He looked at Sophia.
Something about the answer warmed and frightened her simultaneously.
Marco noticed.
“Interesting.”
“Don't.”
“Of all the women in the world, Alessio.”
“Marco.”
“Fine.”
He led them upstairs.
The villa's interior was silent despite the armed men outside.
Marble floors.
Old paintings.
Rooms large enough to feel empty.
Sophia thought about her father being held somewhere inside.
Alive.
She had so many things she wanted to say.
So many questions.
Mostly she wanted to touch him and know he was real.
Marco stopped near double doors.
“Library.”
Alessio checked his watch.
“Positions.”
Sophia whispered, “What happens now?”
“You stay here.”
“No.”
“This part isn't negotiable.”
He placed the ledger in her hands.
“Why give me this?”
“Because you're the only person here I trust with it.”
That stunned her.
“Alessio—”
“If something goes wrong, take Marco's route back.”
“I'm not leaving you.”
His fingers brushed hers.
“Sophia.”
“No.”
Before he could answer, the library doors opened.
Vittorio Cardone stood there.
He was in his late sixties.
Silver hair.
Elegant navy suit.
No visible weapon.
Behind him, Thomas Bennett sat tied to a chair.
Sophia forgot every plan.
“Dad.”
Thomas looked up.
His face broke.
“Sophia.”
She stepped forward.
Alessio caught her hand.
Vittorio smiled.
“Family reunions are touching.”
Sophia's eyes filled.
Her father looked thinner.
Older.
But alive.
Absolutely alive.
“Let him go.”
Vittorio's gaze dropped to the ledger.
“Give me the book.”
Alessio moved slightly in front of Sophia.
“You know how this ends.”
Vittorio looked amused.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“You still believe this is Cardone against Romano.”
“It is.”
“No.”
Vittorio looked at Sophia.
“This began before Alessio inherited his father's throne.”
Sophia hated the word.
Throne.
It made everything feel ancient and inevitable.
“What do you want from my father?”
“Silence.”
“You had eight months.”
“He has been inconveniently difficult to kill.”
Thomas smiled faintly.
“Runs in the family.”
Sophia almost laughed through tears.
Vittorio's expression hardened.
“The ledger.”
Sophia lifted it.
“You release my father first.”
“You aren't in a position to bargain.”
“Neither are you.”
She opened the ledger.
Then held a lighter beneath one page.
Everyone froze.
Alessio looked at her.
Where did you get that?
She had taken it from the SUV.
Sophia said, “One step toward my father, or I burn it.”
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“You wouldn't.”
“You followed me across an ocean.”
She clicked the lighter.
“You killed people for this.”
Flame appeared.
“I think that makes it valuable.”
Vittorio's face changed.
For the first time, Sophia saw fear.
“Put it down.”
“Untie him.”
Thomas said, “Sophia.”
“Not now, Dad.”
His mouth twitched.
Pride.
Vittorio nodded toward a guard.
The man untied Thomas's wrists.
“Let him stand.”
He did.
Thomas moved slowly toward Sophia.
Five steps.
Four.
Three.
Then the lights went out.
Gunshots exploded.
Sophia dropped.
Alessio covered her.
Someone shouted in Italian.
Thomas yelled her name.
Glass shattered.
When emergency lighting came on, Vittorio was gone.
So was Marco.
Thomas lay behind a table.
Alive.
Sophia crawled to him.
“Dad.”
He grabbed her.
She buried her face against his shoulder.
For eight months she had imagined this embrace in dreams.
She had always woken before it happened.
Now he smelled like dust, soap, and the same faint peppermint gum he had chewed her entire childhood.
She cried.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
Thomas held her.
“I’m sorry.”
“You're an idiot.”
“I know.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know that too.”
Alessio turned away, giving them the closest thing to privacy possible in a room full of armed men.
Then his guard called from across the room.
“Boss.”
A laptop sat open on Vittorio's desk.
Security feeds.
Bank transfers.
Files.
One window displayed a live upload.
Progress: 72%.
Alessio approached.
“What is it?”
The guard's face drained.
“The ledger.”
Sophia looked down.
The physical book was still in her hands.
“What?”
“Someone photographed every page.”
Thomas stood.
“No.”
Alessio clicked a file.
Thousands of documents.
Names.
Financial records.
Everything.
“Where is it uploading?”
The guard traced the connection.
Then looked at Alessio.
“To federal servers in the United States.”
Thomas stared.
“That wasn't Vittorio.”
“Who then?” Sophia asked.
A new message appeared on screen.
THANK YOU, THOMAS.
The sender's name made her father turn white.
Sophia stepped closer.
“Who is Daniel Mercer?”
Thomas said nothing.
“Dad?”
He looked at Alessio.
Then at Sophia.
“He was my partner.”
“In what?”
Thomas swallowed.
“In the investigation.”
Sophia stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
May you like
And this one was addressed directly to her.
SOPHIA, YOUR FATHER NEVER TOLD YOU WHO REALLY ORDERED YOUR MOTHER'S DEATH.
