She wore a dark coat borrowed from the medical staff. A bandage remained beneath her collar, and the bruising on her cheek had darkened.
Alessandro had insisted she stay behind.
She had refused.
"You are not walking into that building alone," he had told her.
"Neither are you."
He had stared at her.
Then he had ordered two men to accompany them.
The chapel doors opened with a low groan.
Dust covered the floor.
Moonlight passed through the remaining stained glass, painting fragments of blue and red across the stone walls.
Sofia approached the altar.
She took the silver key from her pocket.
Alessandro frowned.
"I thought they took it."
"I had another one."
He looked at her.
She reached into the lining of her coat.
"The real key."
"You let them take the other one?"
"My father taught me never to carry the only copy of something important."
Alessandro studied her for a moment.
"Your father sounds like a sensible man."
"He was."
She knelt beside the altar.
A small brass lock was hidden beneath the lower wooden panel.
The key fit.
A quiet click echoed through the chapel.
The panel opened.
Behind it was a narrow staircase leading underground.
Alessandro drew a flashlight from his coat.
"Stay behind me."
They descended.
The air became colder.
At the bottom, they found a steel door.
Another lock.
Another black rose.
Sofia inserted the key.
The door opened.
Inside was a small room filled with filing cabinets, photographs, old newspapers, and several sealed metal boxes.
A single desk stood in the center.
On it rested a leather folder bearing the initials L.M.
Alessandro stopped breathing for a moment.
He recognized the handwriting.
His father's.
He approached the desk and opened the folder.
The first page contained a list of payments.
The second contained names.
The third contained dates.
And beneath them all was a photograph.
A younger Vittorio Bellandi stood beside Lorenzo Moretti.
Between them was a man Alessandro recognized immediately.
Enzo Romano.
Sofia covered her mouth.
"My father."
Alessandro picked up the photograph.
On the back, someone had written a sentence.
Three men built the empire. Only two survived.
Sofia stared at the words.
"What does that mean?"
Alessandro turned the photograph over.
He did not know.
But he was beginning to understand why Vittorio had been so desperate to find the key.
***
The first metal box contained financial records.
The second contained correspondence.
The third contained a small digital recorder.
Alessandro examined it.
"Does it still work?"
Sofia nodded.
"My father used one like this."
He pressed the button.
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice emerged.
"Lorenzo, you have to understand. If these documents become public, everyone will come for us."
Alessandro froze.
It was Vittorio.
Another voice answered.
"Then perhaps we should have considered that before killing innocent people."
His father's voice.
Sofia moved closer.
The recording continued.
"Enzo has copies," Vittorio said. "We should deal with him."
"He is not the problem."
"He knows everything."
"He knows enough to destroy us."
A pause.
Then Lorenzo spoke again.
"Enzo will leave the country. We will protect his daughter."
Sofia began to cry.
Alessandro looked at her.
The recording continued.
"And what happens if he refuses?"
Vittorio's voice became colder.
"Then we do what we should have done years ago."
The recording ended.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Sofia pressed both hands against her mouth.
Her father had not abandoned her.
He had been running from men who had decided his knowledge made him dangerous.
And Lorenzo Moretti had known.
Alessandro placed the recorder on the desk.
"My father promised to protect you."
Sofia looked at him.
"Did he?"
"Apparently."
"Then why did nobody come?"
Alessandro had no answer.
He examined the folder again.
A document was hidden beneath the final page.
It was a letter addressed to him.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Alessandro,
If you are reading this, then the men I trusted have probably failed you.
There is something you must understand about our family.
Your mother did not die because of an accident.
Vittorio arranged her death after she discovered what he and I had built together.
I allowed him to remain alive because I believed the truth would destroy the family.
I was wrong.
The truth does not destroy families.
The lies do.
Your father,
Lorenzo.
Alessandro read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
His mother had died when he was twelve.
He remembered the funeral.
He remembered his father's silence.
He remembered the years that followed, when Lorenzo became increasingly distant and Alessandro was sent away to boarding school.
He had been told that his mother had lost control of the car during a storm.
He had never questioned it.
Now he understood.
His entire life had been built around a lie.
Sofia touched his arm.
"Alessandro?"
He folded the letter.
"Did your father ever mention my mother?"
"No."
"Did he know her?"
"I don't know."
Alessandro turned toward the door.
"We are leaving."
"Wait. There are more documents."
"Not now."
"Alessandro, we need to take everything."
He looked at her.
"Someone knows we're here."
A sound came from the staircase.
Footsteps.
Then another.
Alessandro switched off the flashlight.
A voice echoed through the underground room.
"Mr. Moretti."
Raffaele Conti.
"Such a sentimental place."
Alessandro moved Sofia behind him.
Raffaele appeared at the entrance with two armed men.
He smiled.
"Vittorio sends his regards."
Alessandro looked at him.