Giovanni Moretti
Marco's eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal, sweat beading on his brow. I could almost hear the frantic thrumming of his heart. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"It... it sounded like Matteo," he stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush. "On the phone. The voice, the way he spoke... It was so similar. But I swear, Giovanni, I didn't know for sure. I thought maybe it was just someone imitating him, trying to trick me."
I felt a cold fury building in my chest, my hands clenching involuntarily. The idea that Matteo, my right-hand man, could be involved in Alessia's disappearance was almost inconceivable. And yet... she suspected him of something. Could she have been right?
"Go on," I growled, my voice low and dangerous.
Marco
