Luca’s POV
They sweat. They shout. They make mistakes.
I calculate.
So when Antonio entered my office that morning with his usual careful knock and slightly pale face, I did not look up immediately. I finished signing the document in front of me before setting the pen down.
“What is it?” I asked calmly, adjusting the cuff of my shirt.
He closed the door behind him before speaking, which already told me the matter was delicate.
“It is about the journalist,” he said quietly, clasping his hands together to stop them from fidgeting.
I leaned back slowly in my chair.
“Which one?” I asked, though I knew exactly which one.
“Alessandro Greco,” he replied, swallowing once. “The one covering the Carbone case.”
Ah.
That one.
The ambitious one with too much curiosity and not enough caution
