Ignazio
For the next few days, I didn’t have the nightmare again, but it was still very much lingering on my mind.
I settled into my leather office chair, the soft creak of the material a familiar comfort. My gaze drifted out the window, where the city skyline stretched out before me like a steel and concrete canvas.
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the towering skyscrapers, but my mind remained shrouded in darkness.
My fingers drummed a staccato beat on the armrest as I delved into the depths of my obsession. Alonzo. My wife's murderer. The man who had shattered my world and left me with a chasm of grief that seemed impossible to fill.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, but I barely registered it. My focus was singular, my thoughts consumed by the bur
