Quicksand of Fate

Lorenzo shrugged weakly and looked away. "What does it matter?"

"Anyone who sees you would think you're a miserable businessman who lost all his wealth in one night."

Lorenzo didn't reply. His eyes turned instead to the cats, who resumed their play around the sofa .

A few moments later, Emilio returned with a damp towel, which Vittorio took and pressed gently to Lorenzo's forehead. The young man shivered slightly from the cold but didn't pull away.

"Drink this," Vittorio ordered, handing him a glass of water.

Lorenzo took it reluctantly and sipped slowly.

"Room service will be here soon," Vittorio continued as he straightened up. "And eat it yourself, or I'll feed you with my own hands. You're no longer a child, Lorenzo."

Lorenzo glanced at him, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"You're annoying."

"I wouldn't need to be if you stopped destroying your body."

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of room service. Emilio quickly moved to retrieve the cart, carefully placing the dishes on the dining table.

 Lorenzo got up from the sofa and lazily walked to the dining table, tossing the towel Vittorio had placed in his hand onto the floor. He took his seat at the table as Vittorio, acting like a grandmother, poured a cup of coffee and then handed it to Lorenzo

"Here. Start with this. It'll help clear your mind."

Lorenzo held the cup in his hands, steam rising around his face as he took a cautious sip. His expression remained unreadable, but he didn't object.

"Is it good?" Vittorio asked.

Lorenzo nodded, placing the nearly full cup on the table without having drunk more than half.

Vittorio ignored it. Coffee wasn't healthy enough to be the first thing consumed in the morning; all he wanted was for Lorenzo to become a little more alert thanks to the caffeine. It was fitting that he hadn't finished it.

" Get up and wash up first…" Vittorio started, but then paused. "I was going to say, but I can see you clearly don't have the energy or desire for it, so just eat something for now."

Lorenzo frowned but allowed Vittorio to chatter on like annoying background music as he began to eat his late breakfast.

Vittorio crossed his arms, watching the young man closely. He noted every detail—the paleness of his skin, the slight tremor in his hands, the way he avoided eye contact.

The Accardi family, in the current era, could be considered a fortress of power and prestige. And this spoiled child in front of him, the second son of this family, Lorenzo Accardi, could be seen as its weakest wall—a wall that seemed on the verge of collapse and had always been a target for the enemies of the Accardi family.

It is said that he was actually exposed to a kidnapping incident ten years ago, and his family believed him to be dead.

At the time, news of the death of the second Accardi son spread, though no evidence was ever presented. After a while, the Accardi family denied the reports, and the rumor faded—only to be replaced by another, does not seem so far from the truth that Lorenzo Accardi had been kidnapped and, as it seemed, had gone mad. No one has confirmed or denied these rumors, and the truth remains unknown.

Even after ten years, Vittorio, as a specialized psychiatrist, even he cannot say whether Lorenzo's condition is simply post-traumatic stress disorder, real madness, or something else entirely that cannot be named.

Recently, however, he has started to assert that what Lorenzo Accardi is suffering from is pure madness. Seven months ago, to be exact, his condition deteriorated significantly, to the point where he ran away from home to escape the noise and seek isolation. This forced his father, Riccardo Accardi, to move him to this gloomy apartment in an attempt to provide the psychological comfort Lorenzo sought—though it was certainly not a solution.

The faint clang of cutlery on porcelain broke the silence as Lorenzo placed his fork beside the plate, signaling that he had enough. He leaned back in his chair, indicating he was full, but remained seated at the table, staring at his psychiatrist. His messy hair obscured his dark eyes.

Vittorio watched him from the other side of the table, leaning back in his chair.

"Even though you didn't finish it, I'll accept this much," Vittorio said, nodding toward Lorenzo's nearly empty plate.

Lorenzo didn't respond, remaining silent as he waited for the main conversation to begin. Emilio, noticing that Lorenzo was done, stepped forward and cleared the table of dishes.

After placing a cup of tea in front of both Lorenzo and Vittorio, along with a plate of sweets, cakes, and cookies, he stepped away to allow them time to talk.

"Now," Vittorio began, taking a light sip of his tea, "We need to talk about last night."

"..."

He responded silently, his expression remaining completely neutral, as if the matter didn't concern him.

"Do you want to explain why you thought it was a good idea to drink yourself into oblivion with half the contents of a pharmacy?"

"It wasn't half," Lorenzo muttered dryly.