Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Vineyard
The underworld, however, did not care about quiet courtyards or little girls.
The truce between the Santoro family and the rival Barone syndicate in Turin was fracturing. Word reached Matteo’s inner circle that a shipment of smuggled electronics moving through the port of Genoa had been compromised, and a tracking device had been traced back to the Langhe estate.
It was a warning. A message written in blood.
Matteo sat in his underground bunker beneath the wine cellars, surrounded by his capos. The air smelled of damp earth and aged oak barrels.
"They know the layout of the perimeter, Boss," Giovanni said, his face scarred and grim. "Someone inside the lower staff is leaking patrol schedules. We found a burner phone hidden in the stables."
Matteo’s eyes turned to slate. The stables. The north wing. Near Elena’s quarters.
"Is it Elena?" a younger capo muttered. "She’s a guard's widow. Maybe she’s working for Barone."
"No," Matteo said instantly, his voice slicing through the room like a switchblade.
"Boss, we can't take chances," Giovanni argued. "If there’s a rat in the secondary quarters, we pull them out tonight. We interrogate them."
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"If anyone touches Elena or her child," Matteo stood up, towering over the table, his presence suffocating the room, "they answer directly to me. Find the real traitor among the transport guards by midnight. Hang him from the olive press."
The capos swallowed hard and scattered. But Matteo’s mind was not on the transport guards. It was on the vulnerability of the north wing. The Barone family knew he had people on the estate. If they wanted to strike at Il Marmo where it hurt most, they wouldn't hit his bank accounts or his casinos. They would hit the north wing.
