Chapter Eight: The Storm Approaches

The hours passed slowly and heavily for Franco, and the more he thought about his choice, the more tension grew in his chest. He knew that the path he had decided to take would not be easy. The choices before him were crucial; either he remained in the shadows, following the orders of those who had deceived him all along, or he pounced on them and revealed everything, even if the consequences would be disastrous.

Franco walked out of the head of investigations' office, his eyes blurred and his heart heavy with worries. The way home had been long that night. He felt that he had entered an inescapable circle, and he was getting closer and closer to knowing the whole truth.

He arrived at his apartment late at night. The street was quiet as usual, but nothing was calming down inside his mind. He was thinking about Marco, about the betrayal, and about the dream that had turned into a nightmare. He knew that he had to make a decisive decision as soon as possible.

Without changing his clothes, Franco sat on the sofa, contemplating the darkness that surrounded him. He looked at the cell phone in his hand, then at the investigation file he had taken from the police headquarters. The papers were scattered on the table in front of him, like interlocking pieces of a complex puzzle.

At that moment, the phone rang. The number on the screen was strange, and he did not know it. He thought for a moment, then decided to answer.

"Hello, Franco."

The voice that answered him was familiar, but unforgettable: Marco.

"What do you want from me, Marco?" Franco said, trying to sound calm, despite the tension that was squeezing his heart.

Marco answered calmly, as if he knew Franco's state of mind: "You're in trouble now, aren't you?"

Franco was silent for a moment, then replied: "Tell me, Marco. What's going on here? Why all these lies?"

"You see the bigger picture now, don't you?" Marco said, his voice carrying a mixture of calm and menace. "But the truth is more complicated than you can comprehend, Franco. You can't get out of this now."

"If you think I'm going to keep quiet, you're wrong." Franco responded angrily. "I won't let you or anyone else control me anymore."

Marco smiled from the other end, and the voice Franco heard on the phone had a familiar tone. "I knew you'd think that way, Franco. But don't forget that I wasn't the only one who chose this path. There are others who depend on you. If you choose to confront me, the consequences will be worse than you can imagine."

"Where are you now?" Franco said, his mind reordering the events. He knew that if he wanted to reveal everything, he would have to face Marco again.

"You'll find me where you least expect, but don't think you can make the decision alone." Marco replied, then hung up the phone without leaving room for further talk.

Marco's words left Franco's mind, but that moment was a turning point. He felt as if Marco's ghost was following him around every corner. There was something off about everything that had happened. The threads Franco had been piecing together since the beginning of this case were becoming more intertwined than he could comprehend.

Without thinking much, Franco decided that he had to meet him. He knew that the final confrontation with Marco would reveal everything. He had to deal with the whole reality, no matter the cost.

The next day, Franco decided to go to the place where he thought he would find Marco: an old warehouse in a remote area of the city, where illegal activities were rumored to be taking place in the shadows.

But as he was on his way there, he felt something strange. A car was following him from a distance, and the suspects kept watching him in all directions. His heart began to pound, and he felt like a storm was approaching.

When he reached the warehouse, he felt something completely different. The atmosphere was tense, and everything seemed so quiet that it was screaming at him to face the truth.

"Marco!" Franco called as he entered. There was a faint noise in the dark corners, but he didn't find anyone. The place was empty, but a sense of menace filled the air.

Then he heard a voice coming from the dark corners. It was Marco's voice, saying quietly, "You still don't understand, Franco."

As Franco turned around, he discovered that the game wasn't over yet, it had just begun.