The underground chamber was suffused with a heavy silence, broken only by the faint buzz of a flickering bulb overhead. Shadows danced along the damp stone walls, their movements mimicking the tension between the two men at the center of the room.

Nico sat in the middle, bound to a wooden chair. His usually sharp suit was disheveled, the white fabric marred with blood and dirt. Bruises mottled his chest, and a thin trail of blood traced its way from his temple to his jaw. Opposite him, Gabriel loomed on a stool, his tall frame bent forward, elbows on his knees. His blonde hair caught the faint light, the glint of the cross on his chest a stark reminder of the moral weight pressing on him.

Gabriel's voice was low, almost a whisper, but each word carried the weight of a sledgehammer. "They’ve brought proof, Nico. Papers. Witnesses. All claiming you’ve been working against me."

Nico's dark eyes narrowed, defiance burning through the exhaustion. "And you believed them? Just like that?"

Gabriel's jaw tightened. He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the floor between them. "I didn’t want to," he admitted, the anguish in his voice betraying the turmoil within. "I don’t want to. But I have to be sure."

Nico let out a bitter laugh, the sound raw and sharp in the cold room. "Sure? You’re the only family I’ve got, Gabriel. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you—for us. But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?"

Gabriel's hand curled into a fist, trembling slightly. "You think this is easy for me?" he growled, his voice breaking. "After everything we’ve been through? After all we’ve survived together? I brought you in, Nico. I fought for you. I trusted you."

Louis leaned forward as far as his Nico would allow, his voice softer now but no less intense. "Then trust me now. Look me in the eye and tell me you believe their lies over me."