The Great Hall of the Vane Council Chamber was designed to terrorize. High vaulted arches of black obsidian swept up toward high stained-glass windows, while iron braziers cast long, flickering shadows across the polished granite floor.
Every seat in the multi-tiered gallery was filled. High-ranking captains, syndicate dons, regional lieutenants, and money launderers from across the Northern territory sat in dead silence.
At the head of the room sat two high-backed velvet thrones on a raised dais.
I sat on the right, dressed in a sleek, tailored crimson gown, my hair swept up in an intricate, regal crown of braids. The thin bandage wrapped around my left forearm was hidden beneath the dress's fitted silk sleeve. Dante sat beside me, his long legs crossed, one hand resting on the iron he
