Ended the meeting

As the last report trailed off, Isabella leaned back in her chair, her fingers brushing the edge of the smooth oak table. The room fell silent, each minister waiting for her final word. The tension hung heavy in the air, a mixture of expectation and unease. She glanced around the room, studying the faces of her father’s inner circle—the loyalists, the opportunists, and the pragmatists—all bound by their roles in the machine that runs Montesoro, designed for her deceased father. Isabella rose, and the ministers followed, their eyes fixed on her. Her hand trembled, and she steadied it against the table.

"Thank you, everyone," Isabella said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind in her mind. "Your reports have given me much to consider. For now, I expect each of you to implement your plans efficiently and without delay. I will expect further reports from all of you by the end of the week. Dismissed."

As the ministers bowed and the room was filled again with the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor, Isabella could not help but feel a nagging sense of unease. Secretary Romero had been silent since she began the meeting, offering no advice or counsel. The other ministers, despite deferring to her verdict on their proposals with grace, had all glanced at Romero before speaking. She sensed that the power in the room was still very much concentrated in the Secretary's hands, despite his outward display of deference.

As the rest of the ministers shuffled out of the room, Romero stayed behind, his eyes locked on hers. Isabella squirmed under his gaze despite herself, feeling exposed, as if his dark eyes could penetrate her dress. She stumbled out of her chair, bumping into Carlos Silva, himself exiting the room. He caught her gently, and leaned into her ear.

"Sorry, Presidente." Carlos murmured, his breath hot on her neck. "You might wish to meet me in your father's study after this. There are matters best discussed in private, away from greedy ears."

Isabella's spine stiffened, her mind racing at the implications of his words. Carlos smiled, his eyes darting toward Romero, who was still standing silently across the room. She feigned pushing him away, and he bowed deeply before quickly taking his leave.

The room was now empty besides Romero and Isabella, and the silence felt like a weight on her chest. He had not moved from his position besides his seat, his face inscrutable in the shadowy light.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Secretary?" Isabella asked, trying her best to maintain an air of composure.

Romero smiled, and her skin crawled. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

He gestured for her to approach. Isabella hesitated, then crossed the room. She stopped at a safe distance from him, her hands clasped in front of her. Isabella wasn't short by any means, standing at 5'7 with a athletic physique. Yet, before the old man she felt dwarfed, a cowering child in the shadows of an enraged parent, waiting for the whip to fall.

Romero took a step closer, his smile widening. His leathery skin stretched tight, giving him a distinctly reptilian look.