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Still, she does not stand. "Close the door."

I do, and hand her the files to study.

"I found these in the old Rossi archives," I say. "Filed deep. Behind legal redundancies. Classification: UM-N4."

She hums softly as she goes through all the details.

"It’s contingency documentation," I continue. "Signed by my father. Coded in the old syntax. Routes I haven’t seen since before the alliance."

"So this is the elusive Operation Umber."

I blink. "You know it?"

"I’ve heard of it." Her voice is careful. "I was a teenager when the old men spoke about it. Never in front of us. But...close enough."

I study her.

"Your father?"

The irony still isn’t lost on Nuova Speranza that Valentina’s father was killed by the men of the man she married.

But like much else in our world, the reason often justifies the cause, albeit in twisted ways.

Valentina nods.

"He wasn’t a strategist. Not one of the dons. But he handled sensitive tasks. Quiet favors. He worked for whoever paid him—Rossi, Biancavilla, even the Calabrians once. By the time the Salvatores rose, he was already aligned. My education came from that shift."

"So, you’ve seen this kind of thing before."

"Not this exact plan. But the shape of it, yes." Her eyes drop to the final page. I tap the symbol at the bottom. "This crest isn’t public. It was my father’s private mark. The hawk, not the lion."

She nods once, slowly.

"I think someone’s reactivating the routes," I tell her. "Blacksite holdings. Syndicate-safe shipping corridors. Even the courier chain. I got these papers through one of them."

Valentina’s expression tightens. "It wasn’t supposed to be used unless the existing ruling family was on the edge of collapse."

"Someone thinks we’re there."

She finally reaches for the top page, fingers barely brushing the corner.

"This system was locked down after your father died. There were people who still knew the old ways, but most were absorbed, or retired."

"Or killed."

"Or killed," she agrees.

I look at her. "Would Rafa have known about this?"

She exhales slowly, visibly choosing her words.

"He was curious. Even as a boy. Always wanted to sit in on council meetings. He resented being kept out of the ledger rooms. I remember your father saying Rafa asked too many questions."

"But did he have access?"

"Not officially. Not even when your father was alive."

My voice lowers. "But after?"