Luciano
By the time I got back home from the club, the noise was still in my head.
The music.
The cheers.
And her.
But none of that stayed long.
What stayed… was him.
The man in the black suit.
The way he looked at me.
The way he disappeared.
And that message.
Loser.
I dropped my keys on the table and ran a hand through my hair, pacing the room slowly.
Whoever he was, he knew me.
Not just my face but my number too.
That wasn't a coincidence.
It was deliberate.
I tried to push it aside, to focus on something else, but my mind kept circling back to it like a wound I couldn’t stop touching.
I hated not knowing.
I hated it even more that someone thought they could play with me.
I exhaled sharply.
This wasn’t working.
I needed something else to distract me.
Something real
