Chapter 68: THE TRIAL OF THE CROWN
POV: Adriano / Valentina (Split)
Adriano
The war room beneath the De Luca estate smelled of old pine and older blood.
Adriano stood before the council table, hand clenched around the edge hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The Five Families had gathered—Moretti, Belvini, Caruso, Petrelli, and of course, Don Primo De Luca himself. A circle of kings pretending the world hadn’t changed.
They sat like executioners, robes of shadow wrapped in designer suits. Their faces bore centuries of lineage—men who had watched cities burn and called it business. Now, they judged a woman who had risen from those same ashes.
“She’s not unstable,” Adriano said, voice sharp, controlled, but seething underneath. “She’s been targeted. Gaslit. And still, she’s standing.”
Don Primo didn’t flinch. “We don’t doubt she can stand. We question where her mind stands.”
“This clause was never meant to be used this way.”
“It exists for a reason.”
Adriano’s jaw clenched. “So does power. You’re afraid she’s using it.”
Silvio Moretti cleared his throat. “The Trial of Stability was last invoked in 1981. The heir lost. He also lost his tongue and his title. Are you prepared for that risk?”
Adriano’s voice darkened. “Are you?”
Don Primo finally raised his eyes. Cold. Steady. Familiar.
“She will be evaluated,” he said. “The council will watch. A tribunal will decide. And if she fails…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
Valentina
She sat in front of the mirror, hands folded in her lap, face still. Her reflection stared back like it belonged to someone else—a mask molded from pain, control, and the illusion of calm. Reina stood behind her, braiding her hair into a tight crown.
“The council is already stacked against you,” Reina murmured.
“I know.”
“They’ll twist every word.”
“I’m used to being twisted.”
Reina paused, her hands tightening. “You could ask Adriano to stand with you.”
Valentina looked up, catching her reflection’s eyes. “That’s exactly why I can’t.”
A knock.
Adriano entered before anyone could answer it.
His presence filled the room like storm wind—tall, worn, half-healed from a bullet wound that still ached beneath his shirt. But his eyes were fire.
“You’re not doing this alone.”
Valentina rose, smooth and quiet. “Yes, I am.”
“Valentina—”
“This trial isn’t about me being saved, Adriano. It’s about proving I don’t need to be.”
His voice cracked, low. “They want to destroy you.”
“I know. That’s why I have to look them in the eye and smile.”
He stepped forward, reaching for her wrist. “They’re going to ask questions designed to trap you. They’ll mention Luciana. The fire. The sleepwalking. Your bloodline.”
“Then I’ll answer with truth,” she said. “And if truth isn’t enough, I’ll burn their lies.”
He stared at her for a long beat. Then let go.
“Whatever happens in there,” he said, voice low, “you don’t bow. Not to them. Not to anyone.”
“I already learned that lesson,” she whispered. “In the fire.”
The Trial Chamber
The tribunal chamber had been closed to the public. Only the Five Families. No press. No cameras. Just stone floors, polished chairs, and the taste of fear lingering in the air.
Valentina walked in alone, dressed in black—no jewelry, no crown, only the sigil still burned into her palm.
She sat at the lone table in the center. Adriano stood against the wall like a sentinel, eyes locked on her.
Don Primo opened the session with a tone carved from marble.
“We gather under the old rite. The Trial of Stability. To determine the mental state and sovereign fitness of Valentina De Luca.”
A flicker of reaction when he used her full name. No one corrected it.
The first question came like a slap.
“Do you hear voices that are not yours?”
Valentina smiled. “Only in memory. That’s called grief. You may have heard of it.”
“Do you believe you are your sister reincarnated?”
“No. I believe I survived what she didn’t.”
“Did you carve words into your vanity mirror?”
“Yes. And I did it awake. In anger. Not madness.”
“Do you recall threatening to burn the estate?”
Silence.
Valentina’s brow furrowed. “No.”
Marco stood slowly from his seat. His smile was the kind that announced betrayal before the blade was ever drawn.
“I regret to say we found… evidence.”
He pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed play.
The projector screen behind the council flickered to life.
Footage began to roll.
Valentina—on screen—pacing in her chamber. Her movements erratic. Her hair disheveled. Her voice echoing faintly.
“If they want a ghost,” the video-Valentina snarled, “then I’ll give them a fire they’ll never forget.”
She grabbed a candle. Held it to a velvet curtain.
The flame touched the fabric—then the screen cut to black.
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Adriano’s fists clenched.
Valentina didn’t blink.
Don Primo’s voice was grave. “Do you deny this is you?”
Valentina stood slowly. “No,” she said clearly. “I deny the context.”
Marco’s voice slithered in. “We can’t deny the danger. Or the instability.”
She turned toward the table.
And for the first time, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
Just enough for them to smell blood.
Just enough for the blade to lower toward the crown.
Valentina turned toward Adriano, the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. But before she could speak, she heard something—soft, mechanical.
The projector screen flickered again.
A second video began to play.
But this time... it wasn’t Marco’s.
And Valentina’s eyes widened as her own voice filled the room:
"I knew you'd lie. So I made a copy too."