The man pressed the flat of the blade against my father’s cheek.

“No,” I gasped, my voice shaking.

Matteo reached out and grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and reassuring.

“Let the girl go, Enzo,” Matteo said. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“She is the daughter of a debtor,” Enzo said, looking at me with mild curiosity. “And she is your weakness.”

Enzo stepped closer, his eyes scanning Matteo’s face.

“Give me the key and the codes, and I will let you both walk out of here,” Enzo said.

“You are lying,” Matteo said. “You will kill us the moment you have them.”

Matteo’s hand tightened on my wrist, squeezing once, twice, in a slow pattern.

It was a signal we had practiced back at the villa.

He was telling me to get ready.

“I am a businessman, Matteo,” Enzo said, spreading his hands. “I prefer to avoid unnecessary mess.”

“There is a small ventilation hatch behind the old generator to your left,” Matteo whispered, his lips barely moving.

I did not look toward the generator, keeping my eyes fixed on Enzo.