~ Massimo ~
I stood perfectly still, my eyes locked onto my father's face.
I watched as the muscle in Don Giacomo's jaw jumped once, twice, then a third time. It was a rhythmic, dangerous movement that signaled the storm brewing behind his dark eyes.
Finally, without saying a word, Don Giacomo walked with a heavy, measured grace toward the loveseat that he and Juliette always occupied, the velvet cushions yielding as he settled down.
Juliette moved quickly and settled beside him, her presence like a cooling balm on a raw wound.
The movement triggered a silent chain reaction. Every other person who had been standing—out of respect or fear—quietly moved to find a seat.
Marietta and Lorenzo settled on their loveseats, their bodies angled toward the center of the room. Across from them, Aurelio and Romeo took their places, their expressions guarded.
