Luca’s POV
The room felt suffocating. My eyes flicked between Christine’s pale, motionless form on the bed and the guards stationed by the door. The weight of everything—last night’s chaos, the dead guards, the unanswered questions—pressed heavily on my chest.
Christine was the only living witness. The sole person who might be able to tell us how they got in, what they wanted, and why they left her alive. Yet here she was, unconscious and vulnerable, while we stumbled in the dark.
I turned to Mario, who was reviewing the preliminary findings from the team. His expression was a mix of frustration and worry, an unspoken reflection of my own.
“What do we have?” I asked, my voice sharp.
Mario sighed, flipping through his notes. “The syringe we found? Self-injected. No signs of external st
