The council assembled in the underground chamber, that ancient room of judgment and blood oaths. But tonight, something fundamental had shifted. The walls still bore the family crest, the table still gleamed under low light — and yet, the air itself felt altered. What once reflected their authority now echoed with the sound of a man who had just set fire to the bridge between them all.

They gathered in the cold echo of concrete. Footsteps were swallowed. No one spoke. Gabriele stood at the center — his suit torn at the sleeve, his jaw bruised, his voice stripped raw. He looked less like a don and more like a revenant — something that had walked out of fire and hadn’t decided if it was still human.