The drive to Rome was a blur of high-speed asphalt and suffocating silence. Matteo’s hands never left the steering wheel of the black sedan the "civil servant" had provided, his eyes fixed on the road with a predatory focus. Giulia sat beside him, the heavy cream envelope resting on her lap like a live grenade.
The transition from the salt-sprayed peace of Porto Vento to the marble-clad gravity of the capital felt like a descent into another dimension. For years, they had fought over the soil of a small port, believing the stakes were blood, territory, and family honor. Now, the revelation of the "Iron Crown" had shifted the earth beneath them. They weren't soldiers in a mafia war; they were pieces in a geopolitical game of chess that had been played over their heads for decades.
"He was
