Chapter 6 - SAINT AGNES
Saint Agnes stood on a wooded hill outside the city.
The road had nearly vanished beneath roots and weeds.
Raffaele went at dusk.
Sofia insisted on coming.
Grace stayed behind with Caleb under guard.
Anthony Russo accompanied them with four men.
The chapel looked smaller than Raffaele remembered.
His grandfather had built it for family baptisms.
Emilio later used it for private meetings.
Raffaele had not entered since his father’s funeral.
The brass key from Sofia’s bracelet did not fit the front door.
It fit a lock beneath the altar.
A narrow panel opened.
Cold air moved from below.
Stone stairs descended into darkness.
Sofia stared.
“I remember these.”
Raffaele looked at her.
“You were here.”
“Yes.”
Not confidence.
Recognition.
They descended.
The chamber beneath Saint Agnes held no money.
No paperwork.
No guns.
Only objects.
Photographs.
Personal items.
Family relics.
Raffaele saw a wooden toy Luca carried as a child.
His mother’s rosary.
One of Beatrice’s earrings.
He stopped.
Sofia touched his arm.
“Dad.”
He picked up the earring.
Beatrice wore the pair at her eighteenth birthday.
One disappeared years before she died.
Emilio had kept it.
Why?
Anthony opened another drawer.
Inside lay photographs of the Santoro family.
Most taken without their knowledge.
Raffaele meeting men.
Luca leaving restaurants.
Beatrice at university.
Sofia at school.
Emilio had watched his own blood like enemies.
Then they found the recordings.
Old mini-cassettes.
Each labeled with a name.
LUCA.
BEATRICE.
RAFFAELE.
SOFIA.
Raffaele stared at his own.
Anthony whispered, “Your father recorded everyone.”
Raffaele picked Beatrice.
The machine still worked after a replacement battery.
Her voice filled the chamber.
“You know he’s recording this.”
A male voice answered.
Luca.
“I know.”
Raffaele closed his eyes.
Beatrice continued.
“Then why are we talking?”
“Because I want him to hear it eventually.”
“Uncle Luca—”
“Your grandfather is building a war.”
Raffaele listened.
Luca described altered orders.
False rumors.
Men paid to wear Valenti colors.
Attacks designed to look retaliatory.
Emilio had engineered chaos.
Beatrice asked why.
Luca answered:
“Because your father is becoming stronger than him.”
Raffaele’s jaw tightened.
His father had started a war to keep control.
The recording continued.
Beatrice:
“Then we tell Dad.”
Luca laughed bitterly.
“He won’t believe me.”
“He’ll believe me.”
“No.”
“He loves me.”
“That is not the same as trusting you against his father.”
Raffaele lowered his eyes.
Pain.
Clean.
Earned.
Beatrice had known him.
The tape clicked.
Another recording.
Later date.
Beatrice speaking to Emilio.
“Leave Sofia out of this.”
Emilio:
“She is seven.”
“Exactly.”
“She remembers what adults miss.”
Raffaele felt cold.
Beatrice:
“You used me to carry messages when I was ten.”
Emilio:
“And you became useful.”
“You’re sick.”
“Your father says that when he wants to pretend he isn’t like me.”
Raffaele stopped the tape.
Sofia touched his hand.
“Keep going.”
He looked at her.
“You don’t need this.”
“I need what they took from me.”
He restarted it.
Beatrice’s voice:
“If Luca is right, I’ll tell Dad.”
Emilio laughed.
“Raffaele will kill Luca before he listens.”
Beatrice said nothing.
Emilio continued:
“That is why Luca came to you.”
“Because Dad loves me.”
“No. Because you are the only person who can still make him hesitate.”
Raffaele closed his eyes.
Then Beatrice whispered:
“What happens when you die?”
Emilio:
“The same thing that happens when every king dies.”
“What?”
“The family discovers the throne was never the power.”
The tape ended.
Sofia frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Raffaele did not know.
Anthony found another cassette.
SOFIA.
Raffaele hesitated.
Sofia nodded.
Play it.
A child’s voice filled the room.
Sofia.
Seven.
“Grandpa, I want Beatrice.”
Emilio answered softly.
“She’ll come.”
“Why is Uncle Vincent angry?”
Raffaele froze.
Sofia looked at him.
The recording continued.
“Vincent is frightened.”
“Why?”
“Because Beatrice found out what he did.”
Raffaele’s breathing slowed.
Child Sofia:
“What did he do?”
Emilio:
“He picked the wrong side.”
Then footsteps.
A door.
Vincent’s voice.
Clear.
“Emilio, we have to move her tonight.”
Sofia covered her mouth.
Raffaele stared at the machine.
Emilio asked:
“Beatrice?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The river house.”
Raffaele felt the world narrow.
Vincent had not merely known.
He had been coordinating with Emilio while Beatrice was alive.
The recording continued.
Then Vincent said:
“Luca is coming for her.”
Emilio:
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because if Luca takes Beatrice, Raffaele will kill him.”
Silence.
Vincent whispered:
“And if he doesn’t?”
Emilio answered:
“Then we give him a Valenti rose.”
Raffaele stopped the tape.
Nobody moved.
Anthony Russo whispered, “Jesus.”
Sofia stared at her father.
“Grandfather planned it.”
“Yes.”
“And Vincent helped.”
“Yes.”
Raffaele looked at the earring in his palm.
He had found Beatrice three days later.
He had seen the Valenti rose.
He had done exactly what Emilio predicted.
Raffaele turned toward the stairs.
Anthony asked:
“Where are you going?”
“To find Vincent.”
Sofia caught his sleeve.
“Dad.”
He looked at her.
“If you find him, don’t become Grandfather.”
Raffaele said nothing.
Sofia continued.
“He knew exactly what you would do because you always did it.”
The truth hurt.
Raffaele nodded once.
Then Anthony’s phone vibrated.
A message from one of their men.
A photograph.
Vincent Moretti sitting in an old restaurant.
Across from him—
May you like
Dante Valenti.
The last surviving son of the family Raffaele destroyed.
