“She has no proof,” he repeats more carefully.
“No,” I say.
“Then her value exists only because we allow it to.”
“No.”
His expression tightens. “Then explain her value.”
“She stabilizes the Irish,” I say.
“She agitates them.”
“She keeps Rory Brennan from acting without considering where she is.”
He furrows his brows. “For now.”
“Yes.”
“And internally?”
“She’s controlled.”
“No,” Giulio counters.
A line crossed. The council chamber stills again.
“She isn’t controlled,” Giulio says, undaunted. “She moves enough that men discuss where she has been. Staff alter around her. Guards rotate without explanation. Your underboss spends time adjusting the house instead of the city. Luca Romano shadows a woman who, by your own admission, isn’t family.”
Marco’s gaze doesn’t change.
“And you,” Giulio says, “watch personally.”
The room waits. That’s the true accusation. Not that Evie is dangerous. That I’ve made her mine to manage.
I stand. The room rises with me because it must.
Giulio remains seated for one fraction too long, then stands. The delay is visible, but so is the correction.
“Sit,” I say.
They sit. Giulio sits last. Noted.
I remain standing. “Evie Brennan remains in this house because removing her creates more instability than keeping her,” I say. “She remains alive because dead daughters become cleaner symbols than living ones. She remains watched because unwatched grief becomes action. She remains protected becausemy protection is the only reason her uncle hasn’t turned suspicion into movement.”
No one speaks.
I look at Giulio. “If you want her used, say for what.”
A pause. He stays quiet.
“If you want her returned, explain how you’ll prevent Rory Brennan from turning that return into an accusation.” Silence. “If you want her eliminated, say how you intend to bury an Irish daughter after an Irish father without making a martyr of both.”
No answer.
“You don’t want strategy,” I say. “You want discomfort removed.”
The words land across the table. Accurate enough to silence. Insulting enough to be remembered.
