I stare at the text again and again, a shiver running down my spine. An eerie feeling wraps around me as I attempt to call the mysterious number, only to be met with the chilling response of it being invalid.
Returning to the room, Giovanni, casually pouring himself a glass of wine, senses my unease. He drops the crystal glass on the table as he notices the distress etched across my face.
"What's wrong?" he inquires, his sharp eyes probing mine.
Attempting to mask my anxiety, I mutter, "Nothing, just a wrong number."
His gaze intensifies, and he presses, "Who called you?"
"Just a mix-up," I say.
Unconvinced, Giovanni steps closer, concern etched on his formidable face. He cups my chin forcing me to look up at him as he demands the truth.
I reluctantly bring out my phone and show h
