Chapter 21: The Devil Never Waits
374 Words
Rome never asked permission before it rained.
The city simply endured it.
Dante Romano stood beneath the stone archway of Palazzo Romano, watching the rain wash centuries of history from the cobblestones.
"Boss."
Vincenzo approached with a tablet in hand.
"The package arrived."
Dante didn't turn.
"And?"
"De Santis accepted it."
A slow smile curved across Dante's lips.
"I knew he would."
"You were certain?"
"Luca is many things."
Dante slipped on his gloves.
"Petty isn't one of them."
Vincenzo hesitated.
"You sent another man's guest a gift."
"I sent a conservator her tools."
"There's a difference."
"Is there?"
Dante finally looked at him.
"If she'd been a surgeon..."
"I would've sent scalpels."
"If she'd been a pianist..."
"A grand piano."
He shrugged.
"People should always have the tools to do what they're best at."
Vincenzo shook his head.
"And what are you best at?"
Dante laughed.
"Causing Luca headaches."
Both men shared a rare smile.
It faded when another man entered the courtyard.
"So?"
Dante asked.
"The painting."
The spy lowered his head.
"She noticed the overpainting within minutes."
Dante nodded once.
"Good."
"Good?"
"The wrong person would've seen an old portrait."
"The right person saw a lie."
He started walking.
"The girl is asking the correct questions."
"But she still doesn't know the answers."
"Neither do we."
They reached Dante's study.
On the desk lay two objects.
A brass shell casing.
And an anonymous envelope.
Dante picked up the casing first.
The engraving caught the light.
The same symbol.
Again.
His smile disappeared.
He remembered the assassin.
The bullet.
The impossible precision.
This wasn't an ordinary hired gun.
Someone had invested years into preparing that attack.
Someone patient.
Someone invisible.
He set the casing down.
Only then did he open the envelope.
Inside...
One sheet of paper.
Five words.
The second door is open.
Nothing more.
Vincenzo frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Dante folded the letter carefully.
"I have no idea."
He looked toward the rain-soaked skyline.
"And that's exactly why we're leaving."
"Leaving?"
"For Florence?"
Dante smiled.
"No."
"For wherever the second door leads."
Outside...
Thunder rolled across the Roman sky.
Somewhere else...
In Luca's mansion...
Sofia believed she was uncovering history.
Dante knew better.
History...
Was beginning to uncover her.
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