In the icy heart of Palazzo Cotto, Elena faces a corridor seemingly suspended between two worlds, where the silence turns into a menacing echo. Two anonymous men block her with a kindness that brooks no refusal, marking the beginning of an ordeal she had not foreseen. Every gesture, every word, becomes part of an oppressive procedure, a mechanism designed to strip her not only of her personal belongings, but of her very identity.
Led into a sterile room, she finds herself confronted by ruthless rules that shake her, forcing her to confront the weight of mistrust and control. Professor Valenti's name looms large, and when she finally crosses the threshold of his office, what awaits her is beyond her wildest imagination.
The meeting becomes a silent showdown, a confrontation where looks speak louder than words and the line between victim and accomplice blurs until it disappears. Elena finds herself surrounded by disturbing figures, presences that seem to know her better than she knows herself, and every word uttered carries the weight of a condemnation.
The palace reveals itself to be a labyrinth of secrets, a place where rules change without warning and where power wears the cold face of absolute discipline. At the end of the day, Elena is alone with her fears, but also with the certainty that nothing will ever be the same again. A new chapter has opened, and from that moment on, every choice could lead her to freedom or even deeper imprisonment.
In Palazzo Cotto, Elena discovers the ruthless rules of the system: collaborators and rebels, avatars and deception. An impossible choice pushes her past the point of no return
Stories. The Mysteries of Oltrecolle. Chapter 18: Professor Valenti's Dark Pact
Elena advanced along the corridor of Palazzo Cotto with the uncertain step of someone knowing she was entering unfamiliar and, perhaps, hostile territory. The marble underfoot was cold, the air clean and thick with an eerie silence. Every sound—a distant door slam, a cough, someone's muffled laughter behind a wall—was amplified and strange, as if from a parallel world. When she reached Professor Valenti's office, two men intercepted her, almost materializing from the shadows of the columns.
They wore civilian clothes but well-tailored, ties loosened slightly, and identification tags across their chests. Their faces were anonymous and stern, their gazes direct, not a trace of a smile. They stopped a meter away from her, blocking her path. "Dr. Fermi?" the shorter one asked, his tone cordial but lacking warmth. Elena nodded, immediately feeling the tension rising in her temples. "Please take a seat on that bench," the other continued, gesturing to a cool seat under a glass window.
"You will have to wait for a colleague before we can proceed." Their polite manner left no room for argument: it was an implacable kindness, the studied efficiency of those who carry out procedures without asking questions. Elena sat down, her bag clutched tightly on her knees, her gaze alert.The two men stood nearby, hands behind their backs, murmuring words she couldn't make out. In that brief wait, thoughts swirled in her mind: was she being restrained? Did they need to monitor her movements? Or worse, did they consider her a potential threat? She tried to meet their gazes, but both avoided any eye contact. She suddenly felt alone, vulnerable. The sensation of having become, in an instant, a suspect rather than a colleague was acute, cutting. Instinct urged her to protest, to demand explanations; reason told her to wait and observe. She didn't have to wait long. From the end of the corridor appeared a woman in her fifties, her gray hair pulled back in a low bun, her square face marked by deep wrinkles at the temples and around the mouth. She wore a gray uniform with the badge "District Officer" pinned on her chest.
© Reproduction Prohibited
