Chapter 33: The Safehouse Reunion
****Dante’s POV****
The safehouse nestled in the hills outside Florence was a forgotten relic—half monastery, half fortress. Matteo found it years ago after a job went south in Rome. Said the stones whispered secrets if you listened close enough.
I never believed him.
Until now.
Because the moment Isabelle and I crossed the threshold, I could hear it—the silence pressing in, the ghosts of old regrets and buried truths rustling beneath the floorboards.
We hadn’t spoken much since the rooftop.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because we were too afraid to say it.
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She sat in the armchair by the fire, knees drawn to her chest, wrapped in one of Matteo’s old sweaters. It dwarfed her, swallowed her elegance, made her look like a girl tryin
