Chapter 198

　　LUCA

　　Marco looked at me the way a man looks at an old wound.

　　He was half-resentful, half-resigned, as if the scar still itched under the skin.

　　His hand gripped the back of the chair across from my desk, knuckles white, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to sit down or throw it at me.

　　I staye...