The Devil In White
Adrian POV
Morning creeps in behind gray clouds, washing the villa in a pale, exhausted light. The rain from last night still clings to the windows, streaking the glass like veins. I haven’t slept. I can’t. My mind keeps replaying the footage—the hooded figure, the black corridor, the moment the camera died. A ghost walking through my house.
Luca is already waiting in the study, a mug of coffee untouched beside the files. He looks like hell, but focused hell.