POV: Emilia Conti
The council chamber looked different at night.
Not physically—the same polished table, the same neutral walls, the same carefully measured lighting—but in intent. At night, the room wasn't pretending to be administrative. It was honest about what it was built for.
Judgment.
Every seat was filled when we entered.
That wasn't protocol. That was pressure.
I felt it immediately, the subtle shift as conversations stopped, eyes tracking us in coordinated silence. Alessio walked beside me, not in front, not behind. Equal distance. A statement without words.
Luciano was already seated.
That told me more than anything else.
He didn't look surprised. He didn't look defensive. He looked… prepared. As if this had always been his next step.
Gianna stood at the head of the table, hands resting lightly on the surface. She didn't sit. Neither did Alessio.
Neither did I.
That mattered.
"This session was not scheduled," Gianna said. "Yet here we are."
