The Regina security room remained wrapped in dim blue monitor light while heavy snow drifted silently beyond reinforced windows overlooking the frozen compound outside, and Luca Bianchi sat alone before dozens of surveillance screens with exhaustion shadowing his sharp features beneath the quiet hum of old security equipment running endlessly through the night.
Most guards already rotated shifts hours ago.
Luca stayed anyway.
Because sleep came harder lately.
Especially whenever storms returned.
A half-empty cup of cold coffee rested forgotten beside scattered paperwork afterward while one cigarette burned slowly between his fingers now, smoke curling lazily upward through the dark room as old memories pressed heavily against his chest again beneath the distant howl of winter wind outside.
Snowstorms always reminded him of her.
