The villa no longer belonged to Dante alone. The walls still bore his banners, the guards still wore his insignia, but something deeper had shifted. His empire, once held together by fear and unbreakable loyalty, was starting to unravel. Isla could feel it with every step she took through the corridors.
The silence of the servants was different now. It was no longer the silence of obedience, but the silence of people waiting, watching, and choosing not to act until the right moment. The guards' eyes followed Dante with the same rigid discipline, yet beneath the surface their focus slipped. They hesitated before carrying out his orders. They whispered when his back was turned. Fear was still present, but fear alone could not sustain a kingdom rotting from the inside.
