Ella’s POV
The silence stretched so thin it felt like glass—one wrong breath and it would shatter.
I stood there, my heartbeat steady despite the chaos unraveling only a few steps away from me. Luciano’s voice still rang in my ears, sharp and frantic, but I barely heard it anymore. I was watching Clement.
Everyone was watching Clement.
He was calm in a way only people who had spent decades standing in rooms like this could be. Not swayed by outrage. Not impressed by titles. Not rushed by the crowd’s hunger for answers. When he stepped forward, the entire hall seemed to tilt toward him instinctively, like iron toward a magnet.
I folded my hands loosely in front of me, my fingers brushing the faint smear of dried paint still lingering beneath my nails. That paint was my truth. No matter
