The world was still spinning around the trial of Enzo DeLuca and Riccardo Marchesi. Every café radio in Milan had it on repeat. Every headline screamed it. The city’s veins pulsed with arguments—half of them swearing that Enzo would walk free because money ruled everything, the other half betting that the state would finally bury the DeLucas for good. Talk shows roared. Lawyers sparred on live TV. Even the cab drivers cursed the case between cigarette drags.
“Will Morgan win?”
“Can Enzo and Marchesi buy another judge?”
“Is this the end of the DeLuca empire?”
The trial loomed like a storm on the horizon. The press called it Il Processo del Secolo — the Trial of the Century. And at its center stood Adrian Morgan—the undefeated, the untouchable, the ghost with a briefcase.
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It was
