Page 159 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince

A conversation over wine after the alliance was drafted.

Gianna’s voice ringing out low and soft, Luca’s clipped with suspicion, Valentina’s layered with caution.

"We can’t guarantee control south of the spine," Valentina had said. "The old networks aren’t stable. Too many border conflicts, too many regional fealties."

Rafa had disagreed.

He had leaned back in the chair, swirling his drink like it was all a game he had already won.

"You’re thinking of the Rossi strongholds like they were in Papa’s time. But there are smaller enclaves that never swore themselves to any transition. They’re quiet. But loyal. You just have to know who kept the keys."

And Gianna, half distracted, her gaze on the courtyard while the rest of us studied maps and supply charts.

"You mean the monastery," she had said, almost absently.

That stops me cold.

The word pulls all the threads together.

I turn back to the map and locate it, though it is not marked clearly.

It wouldn’t be.

The monastery isn’t official.

It isn’t a religious site in any modern register.

It was decommissioned decades ago, used later for archival storage, and finally transferred to private hands in a sale that was quietly facilitated by a Rossi legal advisor, whose name I now remember seeing in the margin of that old black ledger in the shipping yard.

A line of inheritance that no one bothered to track, because it did not seem relevant.

Until now.

The location is remote.

Inland from the coast, near the old road between Sant’Elia and Castricella, nestled in a valley once known for vineyards that have long since turned to ruin.

No formal security presence.

No direct surveillance.

Just an empty structure with stone walls, deep cellars, and a legend attached to it that the Rossi have used for leverage whenever they needed quiet recovery.

Not a fortress, but a sanctuary.

The kind of place you take someone when you don’t want them to be found.

I reach for my encrypted phone and call the team on standby.

Marco answers before the first full ring finishes.

"Tell me."

"There’s an old site. Rafa would know it. Gianna too. A monastery in the Sant’Elia valley. It’s not in any of our recentscans. We ignored it during the last sweep because it was tagged as structurally unsound."

"And now?"

"Now it looks like a holding cell."