I press an index finger to my temple, fighting off the headache that has been threatening me all night. Muted voices spill from the kitchen television, cutting through the hiss of the espresso machine.
When I enter, Rocco is already standing at the counter, jacket half-on, tablet in hand. "You'll want to see this," he says, turning the screen toward me.
ROSSI HEIR MISSING — VEHICLE FOUND ABANDONED ALONG THE COAST.
The headline glows in blue light, paired with a too-familiar face.
Giovanni Rossi.
My lips part before I can stop them. "…That was fast."
Rocco looks up, frowning. "You saw him recently?"
I take my coffee and stir it once, my eyes not leaving the screen. "He cornered me at the tasting and talked way too much. Alessandro bailed me out by distracting him, thank the gods."
Rocco's face remains impassive, and he waits for me to continue.
