Fiammetta called an emergency family meeting.
“Both of you. My sitting room. Tomorrow. 10 AM. Don’t make me come find you.”
Dashiell and Leander showed up separately. Neither spoke to the other. The tension in the room was suffocating.
Fiammetta sat in her chair like a queen on a throne, surveying her warring sons.
“This ends today,” she announced.
“Mother—” Dashiell started.
“No. You don’t get to speak yet. Either of you.” Her voice was steel. “I have watched this family tear itself apart for months. Watched both my sons self-destruct. Watched a pregnant woman I care about suffer. And I’m done.”
“What do you want us to do?” Leander asked bitterly. “Hug it out? Pretend everything’s fine?”
“I want honesty. Real, brutal honesty.” Fiammetta leaned forward. “Dashiell. Do you love Liora
