Still pulling strings

For a moment, Rome Ford didn’t move, but the silence around him cracked like ice under weight.

“I honestly don’t know,” he said finally, his voice low, almost thoughtful as his eyes grew red with something of rage... or was it grief? Or maybe both. “Which one of you brought the poison to dinner first. But clearly, it’s already in the wine.”

Mr. Leontis stiffened beside his wife, lips twitching.

“Is this a trial, Master Ford?” he asked, just a little too slyly. “Because if it is, let’s not pretend the Rossis are saints.”

“Oh?” Rome didn’t even blink.

The Leontis patriarch turned slightly, eyes blazing now. “Perhaps you should ask the Rossis how they treated that poor boy before he ever became a household name in the corporate world... Before you ever whispered his name.”

Layla’s heart sank. She felt it deep, in the pit of her ribs, crawling up her spine.

Her father kept going, voice rising just enough to draw every ear in the hall. “Ask them what they did to him when he was barely more