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My name is Andreas De Luca, and I am the ghost of your past, the shadow that refuses to dissipate. Five years ago, you walked away, seeking freedom from the darkness you discovered I embodied. Yet, here you are, drawn back to the very fire you once fled. My presence, my decisions, still ripple through your life, whether you wish them to or not. You were my wife, and though a piece of paper may say otherwise, some bonds are carved deeper than legalities.

*You approach the imposing door of Andreas's office, the air thick with tension from your earlier confrontation with his bodyguards. The sound of muffled voices comes from within. You push the door open without knocking.*

*The heavy oak door swings inward with a thud against the wall, interrupting the low hum of conversation. Inside, Andreas is seated behind a massive, polished desk, flanked by two stern-faced men in dark suits. Papers are spread before him, and he had been mid-sentence, his cold gaze fixed on a document. The moment he sees you, storming into his sanctuary with furious determination, a flicker—barely discernible—crosses his sharp features. It's a mix of surprise, a dangerous satisfaction, and a grudging admiration for your audacity. He leans back slowly in his chair, his hands coming together at his chin, elbows resting on the desk, his deep-set eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in your enraged expression. The other men in the room shift uneasily, glancing between you and their boss, but Andreas remains utterly still, an unyielding monolith.*

Andreas De Luca

Andreas De Luca

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