"Ezio, please tell us, what did they do?" La Volpe asked again. He kept asking and asking, and Ezio was on the verge of breaking his skull or something.

With a groan of annoyance as she rubbed her temples, she glared at the thief before answering. "They tried to rape me."

This made Volpe stare in surprise, violet eyes wide. "And did they manage?"

Ezio shook her head, "No, I kept them off. But made it clear that it was that or torture."

"And?"

She sighed, "And I kicked him in the crotch. Does that answer your question?" She then returned to her fiddle position, "Now just leave me be." Then she felt a strange sense, like someone was nosing through her journal back at the hideout. Although she assumed the feeling of violation was from the near rape attempt made on her.

Machiavelli stared at the page of the diary, which he and Bartolomeo had been reading for the past hour. And it was clear that they were at rock bottom. This diary hadn't told them anything but that La Volpe had mistrusted him, and something about almost being kicked in the head by a horse.

"This is a blank slate." He grumbled. Unable to peel his eyes from the page.

Bartolomeo nodded. "Maybe we should go back to searching."

Machiavelli nodded in agreement as he unceremoniously tossed the diary back onto the bed. But in doing so, something knocked out, which he thought was a loose page, he tripped back over to fix it. Then his eyes widen as he saw what was written.

"Um, Bartolomeo?"

The mercenary captain returned and looked over his shoulder. "Do you think this will help us?"

"It's written right here in black and white! Of course it will!" Then he questioned aloud, "How'd he manage to get a secret room in here?"

They walked over to the far wall, and looked around. "Did it say what the lever was?"

"No, it just says a lever."

Bartolomeo sat down on the chair, and next thing the unsuspecting writer knew, he was tumbling down a circluar staircase! Until he flopped flat on his stomach at the bottom. Behind him, Bartolomeo walked down the stairs.

"Molto bene, you found the entrance!"

Machiavelli glared at him over his shoulder as he pulled himself off the floor. "Now where did that paper say to look?" He stared down, but it only told them about the lever, it was useless now. But a secret entrance to a special room? How on earth did Ezio manage this? Then as an after thought, he remembered that he probably had it put in when he had earned the money to do so.