Marco

I sat reclined on the leather chair, a glass of expensive whisky in my hands. There were a couple of papers strewn across my table, but I was so deep in my thoughts that I couldn’t make sense of the letters.

It didn’t help that I was tipsy. Shit, I had been drunk for days; I had not dropped the bottle since the incident. It was how I stopped myself from going batshit crazy.

A knock on the door interrupted my musings. I spun the chair around, and Francesco walked in. He looked like he had lost weight, his eyes were sunken, and he had dark circles around them....