Milan — Stormy afternoon
The news spread like wildfire.
The scandal was so massive that even government-controlled newspapers couldn't hide it.
Ministers.
Police chiefs.
Judges.
Sponsors of the racing teams.
Names once thought untouchable now splashed across front pages, surrounded by public accusations, demands for resignations, and hastily launched investigations meant only to "save face."
Vera and Luca walked among the crowds filling Piazza del Duomo.
Improvised flags fluttered in the cutting wind.
Flyers soared like rebellious birds.
Faces, once etched with fear, now shone with pride and righteous anger.
— They're trying to blame each other — Enzo said, approaching. — Trying to push the guilt onto the lower ranks.
Vera smiled, but without humor.
— When the ship sinks, even the rats learn to swim.
But this time, there would be no easy escape.
The people demanded public trials.
Demanded real justice.
And the old system, rotten to its core, was crumbling under the weight of its own arrogance.
In the air, Vera felt something she hadn't dared to believe in for years:
the true scent of victory.
And she knew:
this was only the beginning.