The air in the chamber crackled with an ominous tension as every Matriarch's device buzzed in unison, their eyes snapping towards Sofia with an intensity that threatened to scorch the very flesh from her bones.
Lucia's gnarled hands gripped the table's edge, her knuckles turning white with the sheer force of her grip. "Speak, ingrata," she hissed, her weathered features twisting into a mask of barely contained rage. "What fresh hell have you wrought upon this hallowed Famiglia?"
Sofia's complexion paled several shades, her usually impeccable composure crumbling like a house of cards in a hurricane. Trembling fingers fumbled to extract the incriminating evidence from her device, the documents and video files casting an eerie, pulsing glow across her ashen features.
"This... this is impossible," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I don't know how you obtained these, but they're all lies - fabrications, I tell you!"
