A sharp click cracks through the tunnel.Then another.Then a third—each one older, deeper, vibrating through the stone, waking gears that haven’t shifted in years.
A grinding groan rolls beneath my feet as chains lift inside the walls. Mechanisms creak to life, metal scraping metal, dust drifting down in gray trails.
The entire tunnel trembles.
The vault exhales.
A cold draft spills from the forming crack—sharp, sterile, untouched by time or breath. It slides over my skin like ice water. My fingers tighten on the key.
I push.
The door is heavier than it looks.A monolith.A tombstone for everything Giovanni hid.
My shoulders brace; muscles burn. Inch by inch, the slab gives way until there’s enough space to step inside.
What I expect is gold.Weapons.Safes, artifacts stolen from rivals.
Everything a mafia king would hoard.
But the room isn’t a treasure.It’s shelves.
And ledgers.
There are hundreds. Black leather spines in perfect rows. Labels inked in Giovanni’s handwriting—precise, elegant, calculating. Pages of numbers, entries, names.
His real empire.
Not bullets.Not territory.Not firepower.
But paper.
Paper soaked in blood.Paper that ruins men.Paper that kills quieter than any gun.
Cold settles into my chest as I step across the threshold.
This room…This vault…This kingdom…
This is where Giovanni lived.Where he reigned.Where he hid every goddamn sin he committed.
The door swings shut behind me with a heavy thud.
I don’t turn around.
I just stand there, staring at the ledgers—my father’s true legacy—with that same cold draft crawling down my spine.
I’m inside now.And whatever truth waits in here…
Records of the King’s Crimes
The silence in the vault isn’t empty.
It hums — a low, electric pressure, like all the ink on these pages is still wet, still moving, still choking the life out of people who don’t even know Giovanni is the one tightening the noose.
I take the nearest ledger from the shelf.
It’s heavier than it looks. Thick leather binding, edges worn, pages fanned from years of use. My thumb hesitates on the cover for half a second.
Then I open it.
