In the solemn, austere Moretti family chapel, five elders sat on high chairs flanking either side, their faces grave and heavy. Lucas stood upright in the center, facing the statue of the holy father, a look of fearless resolve etched between his brows.
Oliver regarded Lucas with a cold smile at the corner of his mouth. “Lucas, step forward and accept your punishment.”
His voice was icy and merciless.
The others wore solemn expressions, as if they already foresaw what would come next.
Lucas removed his shirt, the fabric falling to the ground with a faint rustle.
He knelt straight upon the cold stone floor, facing the ancient statue of the Holy Father, his back as sharp and unbending as a blade.
Dim light streamed down from the dome, spilling across his broad shoulders and the taut li
