CHAPTER 88: EMMA

The café is small and dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Natasha, Antonio, and I have been sitting here for about ten minutes, anxiously waiting for the man who claims to have information about my father, Enzo Conti, and Matteo. The tension is thick, making it hard to breathe. The hum of muted conversation around us does nothing to calm my nerves. I don't know if I'm ready for what I'm about to hear, but I have to be. It's the only way to find out what happened to them.

Natasha taps her fingers against her coffee cup, her face set in a hard line of determination. "He'll show up," she says, though it sounds more like she's convincing herself than me. Antonio leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His expression is unreadable, but I can see the worry in his eyes.

Finally, the door opens, and a man in his late fifties walks in. He's wearing a dark coat, a cap pulled low over his face, making it hard to see his features. He scans the room briefly before h