The room plunged into a prolonged, suffocating silence, the air thick with unease.
Fabiano had been thrown out like garbage, but the atmosphere he left behind was anything but calm. The family heads sat frozen in their chairs, their faces pale, drawn and hollow. It was as though they had witnessed something otherworldly—something that was far beyond their comprehension.
Evan sat motionless in his chair, his elbows resting on the armrests, his forehead pressed against his interlaced fingers. His posture seemed composed, almost statuesque, but Suri, who stood beside him clutching one of his arms, sensed otherwise. She could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, the raw anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt.
Behind him, Claire stood silently, her gaze sharp and vigilant, as if ready to act at a moment's notice.
