“I’ll Give You $10M If You Translate This”, Laughed The Mafia Boss… But The Shy Waitress Silenced…

They were deep in enemy territory. The room was filled with Russian mobsters.

At the center table sat Victor Vulov, the new owner. He was a bear of a man, laughing loudly as he raked in a pile of chips.

“That’s him,”

Dante murmured.

“Vulov. He’s sitting right on top of the trap door.”

“How do we move him?”

Selene asked.

“We don’t. We cause a distraction.”

Dante checked his watch.

“In 30 seconds, the fire alarm in the kitchen is going to malfunction. When the sprinklers hit the frying oil, there will be smoke. A lot of it. That’s our window.”

Selene’s heart hammered against her ribs.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we shoot our way out, or we die.”

Suddenly, a shout erupted from the back of the room. A plume of thick black smoke began to billow from the kitchen doors.

The fire alarm shrieked.

“Fire!”

someone screamed. Panic rippled through the crowd.

The mobsters stood up, hands going to their holsters. The patrons began to shove toward the exits.

“Now,”

Dante said. He didn’t run; he guided her firmly through the chaos, moving against the flow of the crowd.

While everyone was rushing for the doors, Dante pulled her into the shadows of the VIP section, right toward the bar where Vulov had been sitting. The area was empty, the chips scattered on the floor.

Dante vaulted over the mahogany bar.

“Get behind here. Hurry!”

Selene scrambled over, her silk dress tearing on a splinter of wood. She didn’t care.

She landed in the narrow space behind the bar.

“The wall!”

Dante hissed, pointing to the brickwork behind the top-shelf liquor.

“You said the north wall.”

Selene scanned the bricks. To the untrained eye, it was just a wall.

But she was looking for a pattern: “Where the sinner goes to wash his hands.” She saw it: a faint discoloration on the mortar around three bricks at waist height.

The pattern matched the Gregorian shift from the parchment.

“Here,”

she said, pressing her fingers against the bricks.

“Three. Seven. One.”

She pushed them in that order. A heavy thunk echoed.

The section of the wall—actually a concealed steel door faced with brick—clicked open an inch. Dante hooked his fingers into the gap and hauled it open.

Darkness gaped beyond.

“Get in,”

he ordered. They slipped inside, and Dante pulled the door shut just as the beam of a flashlight swept over the bar outside.

Keys to the Kingdom

They were in total darkness. The air was stale, smelling of dust and old tobacco.

Dante clicked on a small penlight. They were in a small, windowless room.

The walls were lined with empty shelves. In the center sat a single metal desk and a heavy, archaic-looking safe.

“The Confessional,”

Dante whispered. It sounded like he was greeting a ghost.

He approached the safe. It didn’t have a digital pad; it had a dial with letters instead of numbers.

“Of course,”

Dante sighed.

“Another cipher.”

He turned to Selene.

“It’s all you, cara. We have maybe five minutes before they realize the fire is small and come back to check the cash.”

Selene stepped up to the safe. She shone the light on the dial.

The letters were Greek. She closed her eyes, visualizing the parchment, the bottom line, the microscopic text she had translated in the cabin.

“The gold is the blood of the traitor.” No, that was the first layer.

The key was the signature.

“Amore Gabriella. Gabriella,”

she whispered.

“It’s not just a name. It’s the key.”

She looked at the Greek letters. She needed to convert “Gabriella” into the Greek alphabet, then shift it based on the date of her death.

“Dante, when did your mother die? The exact date.”

“October 14th,”

he said, his voice tight. He was standing by the door, gun drawn, listening to the muffled shouting outside.

“10. 14,”

Selene muttered. She spun the dial.

“Gamma. Alpha. Beta.”

Her fingers were slippery with sweat. Click. Click.

She spun the dial left, then right. The mechanism groaned.

“Come on,”

she pleaded. She entered the final character.

“Clunk!”

The handle released.

“Got it,”

she gasped. Dante was at her side.

Instantly, he pulled the heavy steel door open. They both stared inside, expecting stacks of cash, gold bars, or diamonds.

The safe was empty save for a single leather-bound ledger and a small silver USB drive.

“What is this?”

Selene asked, her voice trembling.

“Where is the money?”

Dante grabbed the ledger. He flipped it open.

His eyes scanned the pages, and his face went pale in the dim light.

“It’s not money,”

he said, his voice a mixture of awe and horror.

“It’s leverage.”

“What do you mean?”

“This book… it contains the names of every corrupt judge, politician, and police chief on the East Coast.”

And the USB drive? He held it up.

“This probably has the bank codes to the offshore accounts where they hide their bribes.”

He looked at Selene.

“This isn’t $10 million, Selene. This is worth billions. It’s the keys to the kingdom. It’s the reason my father was killed.”

Suddenly, the door to the secret room shook violently. Someone was pounding on the outside.

“Open up! We know you’re in there!”

A Russian voice boomed. Dante shoved the ledger and the drive into the waistband of his pants.

He grabbed Selene’s face, his hands rough but his touch desperate.

“Listen to me,”

he said, his eyes burning into hers.

“There is a ventilation shaft behind that shelf. It leads to the alley.”

“Dante, you take the drive, I take the book. We split up.”

“No.”

She grabbed his lapels.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to,”

he said.

“They want me. They don’t know who you are yet. If they catch us both, we’re dead. If one of us makes it out, we have the power to destroy them.”

The door hinges began to buckle. Sparks flew as a cutting torch started to slice through the lock.

Dante kissed her. It wasn’t a gentle kiss.

It was hard, searing—a promise and a goodbye all at once. He tasted of champagne and danger.

He pulled back, breathless.

“Go. Run, Selene. Run and don’t look back.”

He shoved her toward the shelf, kicking it aside to reveal the dark, narrow vent. Selene crawled inside, tears streaming down her face.

She looked back one last time. Dante Valerio stood in the center of the small room, facing the door.

His gun was raised, a dark smile playing on his lips as the steel finally gave way.

“Come and get at it,”

she heard him snarl. Then the door burst open, and the room was filled with gunfire.