*Giovani*
In a darkened room, a man sat strapped to a metal chair. His arms and legs were tied to the metal contraption and a cloth blindfold over his eyes. Despite the grainy visual, it was easy to see the bruises and blood dripping down the man’s ripped clothing.
There was nothing in the room but the man and the chair, completely void of anything that might give him comfort or peace of mind. It was what he deserved.
I stared at the camera feed on the monitor, watching Enzo as his labored breathing was heard through the screen.
I leaned back in my chair, sighing deeply as Gabriele watched me from the other side of the large mahogany desk. I crossed my arms over my chest, unhappy with the new developments–or should I say, no new developments.
“He still isn’t talking?” I asked, already knowing the answer. But I needed confirmation that only Gabriele could give me.
