Nestled in the undulating hills of Val d'Orcia, the Vitaleta Chapel stood as a silent witness to centuries of whispered prayers and hidden sins. Leonardo Lanci gazed at the weathered stone structure, its façade bathed in the amber glow of dusk. Two perfect rows of cypress trees stood like sentinels guarding a forgotten realm.

The chapel seemed frozen in time—a relic from another era when a shepherdess claimed to have seen the Virgin Mary in this very spot. In 1533, they'd installed a statue of the Madonna, now long removed to the safety of San Quirico's main church. 

Giuseppe Partini's 19th-century restoration had given the chapel its deceptively simple appearance—clean lines and Rapolano stone that concealed dark secrets beneath the delicate rose window. The UNESCO World Heritage designation that protected these hills had done nothing to shield the victims Vinci and Vittoria in this isolated place between San Quirico d'Orcia and Pienza.

Leonardo felt that the event that had happened in this evocative, beautiful place felt wrong—as though the very ground beneath the chapel had been poisoned "This place is deadly," he said. "And I need to understand why"