POV: Emilia Conti
The declaration didn't come with music or raised glasses.
It came quietly.
That was what made it dangerous.
The morning after the dinner felt deceptively normal. Sunlight filled the penthouse. Staff moved with the same measured efficiency. Coffee arrived at the same time it always did. No one looked at me differently.
Which meant something had already been decided.
I was halfway through a report Alessio had allowed me to review—logistics, territory disputes, names I was starting to recognize—when Sofia appeared at the door.
"You'll need to be dressed by noon," she said.
I looked up. "For what?"
She hesitated. "There's an announcement."
My chest tightened. "What kind of announcement?"
"One that requires witnesses."
That was enough to answer.
I stood. "I need to see Alessio."
She nodded immediately, relief flickering across her face. "He's in the council room."
