Eventually, the trees thinned, and I stumbled onto a narrow paved road.

A sign by the roadside read *Via Appia Antica*.

My legs were shaking, and my breath came in ragged gasps.

I walked along the edge of the asphalt, staying in the deep shadows of the stone pines.

A taxi crawled down the road, its yellow roof light shining through the rain.

I stepped out onto the asphalt and waved my arm.

The taxi screeched to a halt, the headlights illuminating the rain.

I climbed into the back seat, shivering violently.

“Where to, signorina?” the driver asked, looking at me with concern in the rearview mirror.

I looked down at my muddy hands.

My first instinct was to say the airport.

I could use the Swiss key to access the funds, buy a ticket, and disappear to America.

But as I looked at the dark Roman countryside passing outside the window, I knew that running would not save Matteo.

And it would not save my father.

Enzo would hunt me down to the ends of the earth for the Vitale fortune.

I needed leverage.