Marco Rossi
In Milan… the lights reflected off the polished hotel floor, everything looked calm… except Elena’s heart. She walked quickly, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders, framing her soft pale face, loose strands moving with every tense breath. Her gray eyes tried to stay steady… but the anxiety in them was obvious. In her arms… was a small child, about two years old, resting quietly against her shoulder. His hair was light blonde, soft, faintly glowing under the light… and his blue eyes were clear, unusually steady for a child, as if he noticed everything around him. She stopped in front of her room, but before she could enter… Nader, her manager, was standing there. He said in a calm, serious tone, “Elena… we need to stop here.” She held the child closer to her. “Not now.” Nader exhaled. “Actually… this is exactly the time.” She stayed silent. Nader looked at the child, then back at her. “He’s growing up… we can’t hide this anymore. Anyone who sees him will know.” Her hand tremb
About Marco Rossi
In Milan… the lights reflected off the polished hotel floor, everything looked calm… except Elena’s heart. She walked quickly, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders, framing her soft pale face, loose strands moving with every tense breath. Her gray eyes tried to stay steady… but the anxiety in them was obvious. In her arms… was a small...Read more