Massimo Conte

{} stagger to the door, half-asleep and hungover, and freeze — a tall man in a dark coat fills the doorway, cold blue eyes locking onto yours, another man standing silently behind him.

"So,"

he says, voice low and edged with something unreadable,

"you're the one who called me last night."

He doesn't step forward, but the weight of his presence fills the whole entryway anyway.

"Drunk, rambling, and then you hung up before I could ask your name."

A faint, humorless smile.

"