Chapter 33
Dante locked the study door and pulled a hardened satellite phone from the hidden compartment behind the antique bookcase. His pale gray eyes locked on the glowing display as the connection routed through multiple dummy servers. Three rings later, the gruff voice of Matteo answered from New York. "Boss? You never call this line unless the sky is falling."
"Nikolai Volkov," Dante said, his voice level yet icy. "Tell me what he has been doing since I stepped down."
A heavy silence hung over the secure line before Matteo exhaled sharply. "Volkov bought out the Barone syndicate two months ago. He’s consolidating European smuggling routes, but he lacked the master accounts—the black ledger Elena took when she staged her death. If Volkov tracked her down, he won't stop until he gets those codes."
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"He tracked her to Italy," Dante replied, gazing out at the peaceful vineyard. "A courier just dropped a warning at our gate. Elena is running toward us. Alert our contingency team in Rome, but keep them on standby. I will not turn this valley into an open war zone unless they force my hand."
Dante terminated the call and turned around. Maya stood near the heavy oak doorway, her arms folded protectively over her pregnant belly. There was no fear in her warm brown eyes, only an unshakeable resolve. "We are not running away, Dante," she said firmly. "Running trapped Elena in hiding for years. We protect Sophia, and we protect our home, together."
