The cameras had barely cooled when silence settled over the villa like a soft, wary blanket. Evelyn and William stood in the foyer as aides and lawyers retreated to prepare statements, the echo of shutters still in their ears. Outside, the city roared on—indifferent, impatient—but inside those walls something fragile had shifted: the world had seen her stand tall.
Evelyn felt it as a small, fierce light behind the ribs. It warmed, then steadied into resolve. She turned to William, searching his face as if memorizing an ally’s features for the battles to come.
“You did well today,” William said, but there was no triumph in his voice—only a steady, iron promise. “That was the first blow. We will not stop.”
She let a slow breath out. “I don’t want to be famous for being destroyed,” she mur
