Damian entered the dimly lit visitation room of the police station, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. Sitting at the table, his hands cuffed, was Luca Ettore. Luca’s eyes lit up with relief and desperation as Damian stepped in, though his composed demeanor cracked only slightly.
“Damian,” Luca said, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and disbelief. “Thank God you’re here. You have to believe me—I had nothing to do with this.”
Damian pulled out the chair opposite Luca and sat down heavily, rubbing his temples. "Luca, you're in deep trouble. The police have recordings, confessions... everything points to you. The restaurant worker claimed you gave the poison to him to put inside my food.”
Luca leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I’m being framed, Damian!
