I was rummaging through the things in my father’s office, a place I rarely ventured into, even as a child. The musty scent of aged paper and wood filled the air, a stark contrast to the pristine living areas of our home that my mom dedicated her entire life to decorating. Shelves lined with leather-bound books, their spines cracked and faded, towered above me. Dust motes danced in the slivers of sunlight that pierced through the heavy velvet curtains, giving the room an almost ghostly atmosphere.
What Giovanni said to me last night really got to me. I could still hear his voice, low and serious, echoing in my mind.
"Your father was involved with some very powerful people. People who would do anything to get what they want. And now, they're interested in you."
The words were a punch to
