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**Chapter 64: The Rogue's Resolve**
Pietro watched the shadows stretch across the vineyard, the twilight painting the rows of vines in hues of deep purple and gray. From his vantage point at the edge of the estate, he could see the glow of lanterns near the crypt—no doubt Carlo still wrestling with his misplaced sense of duty.
Carlo was the guardian, the loyal defender of a legacy that Pietro had long questioned. In another life, Pietro might have admired that unwavering commitment. But now, as he stood on the edge of a truth that Carlo refused to face, admiration had turned into frustration.
"The past is a chain," Pietro muttered under his breath, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. "And Carlo's still clinging to it like it's a lifeline."
Turning away from the crypt, Pietro moved with quiet purpose toward the northern edge of the vineyard, where the overgrown path to the river began. He had spent enough time unraveling the threads of Emilia's legacy to know that the chamber near the river held the key to everything. But he wasn't interested in preserving the vineyard's balance or safeguarding its secrets.
For Pietro, the vineyard was a prison—a force that had dictated his life and bound him to a past he had no choice in. The crypt, the pendant, the vial—it all felt like a game designed to trap them in an endless cycle. But the chamber near the river—that was different. That was his way out.
Reaching the riverbank, Pietro paused, his sharp gaze scanning the dense foliage that hid the chamber's entrance. It had taken years of piecing together Emilia's cryptic notes and deciphering the crypt's emblem to pinpoint its location. And now, with the siblings closing in, Pietro knew his window of opportunity was closing fast.
"They don't understand what they're walking into," he muttered, his tone edged with bitterness. "But I do."
Pietro crouched near the water's edge, his fingers brushing against the worn edges of the map he had tucked into his coat. The markings were faint but unmistakable—leading directly to the chamber. He felt a flicker of satisfaction, the culmination of years of questioning and searching now within reach.
But as Pietro straightened, his resolve hardened. He wasn't just searching for answers; he was searching for freedom—from the vineyard, from its secrets, and from the shadow of a legacy that had shaped him against his will.
And as the river's gentle current whispered against the stones, Pietro made a silent vow: no matter what the chamber revealed, he would claim its truth for himself—even if it meant leaving the rest of them behind.
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