Francesco In the dimly lit bar, I sat on the plush armchair. Smoke curled around my fingers as I crushed the cigarette against the ashtray.What more can this grieving man do than that? I have searched everywhere for Brinda. Seconds have turned minutes, minutes have turned hours, hours have turned days, and days have turned weeks — Approximately three weeks. Still, there has been no trace of Brinda. From her house to the clubs. From the clubs to the hospital she once worked at. No trace. No whispers. Just emptiness.Behind me, Bullet sat on the floor, drowning in silent sobs. She thinks I don’t hear her, but I do. I just don’t care.Mark is dead. That was not part of my plan, but he wanted to kill me. What was I supposed to do? Let him? Watch as he pulled the trigger?No. That can't be fucking done. Well, what has been done has been done. Case closed. I took another swig from the bottle, letting the alcohol burn down my throat. Then, slurring slightly, I ordered, “Come her
Last Updated : 2025-04-14 Read more