Chapter 8 - THE SECRET BENEATH CALABRIA
Two weeks later, Irene returned to Italy.
Not alone.
Aleandro accompanied her.
Rocco and a small security team traveled separately.
The journey was arranged through legitimate channels.
The key from the necklace remained in Irene's possession.
The old Corvino shipping office stood near the coast.
The building had been abandoned for years.
Its windows were boarded.
The walls were stained by salt and rain.
Irene stood outside.
She remembered visiting as a child.
Her father carrying her through the doorway.
Her mother laughing.
The smell of coffee.
The sound of men speaking several languages at once.
Now the building was silent.
Inside, investigators working with local authorities helped them access a sealed storage area.
The key fit an old mechanical lock.
Behind the door was a small archive room.
Metal cabinets.
Dust-covered boxes.
A desk.
And a safe.
Irene approached the safe.
She noticed the same seven-pointed star engraved beside the lock.
Aleandro looked at her.
“Do you know the code?”
She shook her head.
Then remembered something.
Her mother used to sing a lullaby.
Seven stars.
Three moons.
One road home.
Irene entered the numbers.
Seven.
Three.
One.
The safe clicked.
Inside was a leather-bound ledger.
Irene opened it.
Pages of names.
Dates.
Payments.
And agreements.
Aleandro looked over her shoulder.
His expression changed.
There were records connected to his father.
Vittorio Vulpe.
And several other powerful men.
Then Irene turned another page.
She stopped.
A name appeared beside a large payment.
DON SALVATORE.
The same man she had negotiated with at the Obsidian Room.
Aleandro stared.
“That's impossible.”
Irene looked at him.
“Why?”
Aleandro swallowed.
“Because Salvatore told me he'd never met your father.”
May you like
Irene looked back at the ledger.
The date beside Salvatore's name was the night the Corvino estate burned.
