52

Faust

9

I rubbed my eyes behind my glasses. The words on the screen were fuzzy, my body too tired to concentrate.

Sighing, I picked up my Campari and tonic. I had started drinking in the early afternoon, a habit that Marco disliked immensely, but which I found necessary to ease the pain inside my chest. The last two nights I fell into bed in a drunken stupor and passed out for a few hours.

It was an improvement over weeks of sleepless nights.

Marco was sitting in the corner on his phone, pretending to ignore me while actually watching me closely. He wasn't fooling me.

I read the numbers on the screen again, wanting to prove that I was still on top of my empire. — Toni just made us more than two million euros by selling a technology share.

Marco grunted.

— Maybe we don't need D'Agostino for this computer idea.

He did not answer.

I drummed my fingers on the table and took a sip of my drink. When I drank, my thoughts often returned to her, even when I tried to avoid it.

She made a fool