Silvio had the kind of stillness that made a room feel smaller than it was.
He was seated in the centre of the main sitting room with his jacket buttoned and his hands resting flat on the armrests, like a man who had decided the chair belonged to him the moment he sat down in it.
His six men stood along the walls, not quite at attention but close enough. Nobody had offered them anything… nobody had dared.
Nico stood near the doorway with his arms crossed, watching with the expression with barely contained rage.
"Mrs. Ferrante." Silvio gestured to the chair across from him without looking up from the folder in his lap. "Please."
Mara sat with her spine straight, her hands in her lap, and her eyes fixed directly on him. It was the way Nico had drilled it into her, without ever actually saying the words out loud.
Don't flinch. Don't volunteer. Don't fill his silences.
