LUCAThe morning had been nonstop.Conference rooms, strategy calls, back-to-back meetings — I had barely sat down since I walked into the building. By the time I finally dropped into the leather chair behind my desk, it was a little past noon. The city skyline gleamed beyond the windows, but my mind was elsewhere.I loosened my tie and rolled my sleeves up, then opened my laptop. Emails. Reports. Messages. I scrolled through them mechanically, replying where necessary.Then my phone lit up with an incoming call.The name on the screen made my shoulders tense instantly.I had put off this moment for as long as I could, I guess, my radio silence had finally been noticed.Part of me wanted to let it ring out. The other part knew better.I stared at it for two beats, jaw tight, and waied for the third ring before answering.“Luca.”The voice on the other end was gruff and croaky with age and years of cigars and whiskey.“You’ve gone a month and a half without reporting back. Hope all is
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