Enzo reluctantly sank back into his seat, his dark eyes glaring at me with pure hatred.

I walked up to the edge of the table and stood before them.

I did not sit down.

“You have the keys?” Moretti asked, his old eyes locked onto mine.

“I have them,” I said, pulling the encrypted flash drive from my pocket and placing it on the dark wood of the table.

“But the drive is useless without the passphrases,” I added, keeping my hand over it.

“And why should we not just take it from you?” one of the other elders asked, leaning forward.

“Because if my heart rate rises above a certain level, or if I do not enter a security code on my phone every twenty minutes, the files will self-destruct,” I lied.

The lie was simple, but in the dim light of the crypt, they could not risk doubting me.

Moretti leaned forward, his leathered skin creasing around his eyes.

“What do you want, signorina?”

“I want a trade,” I said. “Matteo Vitale’s safety, and his legal ownership of the Vitale estate.”