Marco’s POV
The sharp blare of his alarm shattered the silence of his hotel room, vibrating against the nightstand. Marco groaned, rubbing his face before sitting up. His body was heavy, weighed down by exhaustion he couldn’t quite shake—not just physical, but the kind that sat in his chest like a stone. He had set the alarm for 5 p.m., giving himself just enough time to get ready before the meeting.
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stretched, rolling his shoulders. Then, moving on autopilot, he went through his usual routine: brushing his teeth, washing his face, and combing his hair. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back. There was something hollow in his eyes, something distant. He exhaled and turned away.
Pulling on black sl
