Chapter 3 - Beneath the Villa
The tunnel had been built during the war.
Vittorio’s grandfather used it to move weapons between the villa, chapel, and coastal road.
Only members of the Morelli family and three senior captains knew the complete route.
Marco knew one entrance.
Matteo knew another.
Alessio had known them all.
Vittorio descended first.
Sophia followed before anyone could stop her.
Matteo cursed softly and climbed down behind them.
The tunnel divided beneath the greenhouse.
One passage led toward the wine cellar.
Another led toward the abandoned servants’ wing.
The third descended beneath the eastern wall.
Sophia crouched near the floor.
A thin line of muddy water crossed the stones.
“My papa’s boots have a broken heel.”
She pointed toward an uneven mark inside the mud.
“He went that way.”
Vittorio followed the eastern passage.
Alessio walked beside him.
“You trust the child more than your own men.”
“The child warned me.”
“My men sold me.”
Alessio’s expression tightened.
“Not all of us sold you.”
Vittorio stopped.
“Where were you for two years?”
Alessio glanced toward Sophia.
“This is not the place.”
“It became the place when you arrived with the people who tried to put me inside a bomb.”
“I escaped the fire.”
“Then why did you let me bury you?”
“Because the men who burned the warehouse believed I was inside.”
“Who burned it?”
Alessio answered without hesitation.
“Your wife’s father.”
Isabella had claimed her father died before their marriage.
She said he was a shipping broker from Genoa.
According to Alessio, his real name was Domenico Serra.
He controlled smuggling routes between Corsica, Naples, and North Africa.
Carlo, the false driver, was Isabella’s cousin.
Domenico wanted the Morelli routes.
Isabella married Vittorio to map the organization from inside.
“You knew this and said nothing,” Vittorio said.
“I found out after the fire.”
“From whom?”
“The people who kept me alive.”
A sound echoed ahead.
Metal scraping against stone.
Vittorio raised his pistol.
They entered a circular chamber beneath the eastern wall.
Renzo sat tied to a chair.
Marco stood behind him.
A wire ran from Renzo’s chest to a pressure device beneath the chair.
Marco’s gun pointed toward Sophia.
“No closer.”
Sophia stopped.
Renzo lifted his head.
“Do not listen to him.”
Marco pressed the barrel harder against the girl.
“Drop your weapons.”
Vittorio lowered his pistol to the floor.
Matteo and Alessio did the same.
Marco smiled.
“Now tell your brother to open the old Morelli vault.”
May you like
Vittorio looked at Alessio.
The brother who had returned from the dead had suddenly gone pale.
