Page 137 of Brutal Crown
This is what I made sure of.
Each letter was tailored to their sins, hinting that someone knew their crimes. That someone had evidence. That someone might talk.
They were all lured here by the same thing.
Fear.
And now they’re trapped in it.
I watch them speak briefly outside in hushed tones as their confused faces dart around. And then they enter through the large, open doors.
That is when I descend.
Slowly, I come down from the gallery, timing my steps and letting the echo of my footsteps announce my presence. The observatory’s interior smells like old metal and forgotten paper. The walls are lined with collapsed bookshelves and the shattered remnants of old instruments. The chairs are arranged with military precision, one for each of them and a single one for me across from the three.
They turn when they see me. Three pairs of eyes, full of confusion, recognition, and something close to contempt.
“Romano,” Giulio Salvatore says first. His voice is rasping, aged like sandpaper dragged across glass. “Is this a joke?”
Alfonso Altieri chuckles dryly, adjusting the lapel of his cashmere coat. “I assumed this was urgent Society business. And instead, I find myself beckoned by a mere boy.”
Ermanno Vescovi just narrows his eyes. “Why did you drag us out here?”
I bow my head a little. “I appreciate you coming,” I say, my voice low. “I know it’s unusual. I just… I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
They don’t buy my pretense. Not completely. But they don’t walk out either. That means they’re still afraid. Good.
“Did you send anonymous letters to each of us?” Ermanno says coldly. “They read like threats.”
“I would never threaten the Society Elders,” I say calmly, circling the edge of the room. “What you received was a message from someone who knows things best kept buried—someone offering you a choice.”
Giulio narrows his eyes. “So, where is this man? Let’s not waste time.”
I smile. “He’s standing right in front of you.”
Alfonso chuckles humorlessly. His rings glint dully in the dim light as he points his fingers at me. “You’ve made a grave mistake, calling the three of us like this without proper cause. You had access to our names and identities, it seems. That alone is a crime.”
“I know that,” I answer. “But I also know what each of you has done. If you’re thinking of killing me to cover this up… don’t. I’ve made sure I won’t be the only one holding the knife. My allies know everything. And if I don’t walk out of here alive,every shred of proof I’ve collected goes public. You know how fast that fire will spread.”
A slow, loaded silence fills the space between us.
I take a seat on the empty chair across from them. I remain silent for a while, the only sound in the air being the harsh hum of wind coming in through shattered beams.
Alfonso barks a laugh. “You think you can scare us, boy?”
“You forget who we are,” Giulio says, stepping closer. “We are the spine of this Society. You’re just a spoiled heir with a chip on your shoulder.”
“He’s probably in his rebellious phase,” Ermanno chuckles.
“Then why did you come immediately when I called you?” I ask.
They all fall quiet.
I motion to the chairs. “Sit. Or don’t. Either way, you’ll listen to what I have to say.”
Eventually, they do sit. Reluctantly. One by one. Ermanno first, his movements slow and careful. Alfonso second, huffing and puffing under his breath. Giulio is last, the coldness on his face never leaving.
Seated before me, they look like regular old men. Rich and influential, undeniably, but powerless.
