The clink of silverware against porcelain was the only sound between them. Emilia sat across from Max at the long, polished dining table, the chandelier above casting soft golden light over their untouched meals. The air was heavy, dense with unspoken words.
He cleared his throat. "Thank you. For being there today."
Emilia looked up, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "It was nothing."
"No," Max said, setting his fork down gently. "It wasn’t."
She watched him, waiting.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes distant. "My father used to take me to meetings like that when I was younger. Said it was to prepare me. But it was more like… throwing me to the wolves. He'd sit back while the board shredded me. Never defended me. Not once."
Emilia swallowed. Her fingers tightened around her na
