Chapter 50: The Ghost of Matteo
****Dante's POV****
The air inside the ruins was heavier than Dante remembered. Dust clung to every shattered frame, the scent of old wood and scorched memories thick in his lungs. The dim shaft of moonlight filtered through the broken window above, casting long shadows over what remained of Matteo's office.
Dante stood in the corner of the room, his gloved fingers brushing along the edge of an old desk. His chest tightened as he touched the scorched grooves where fire had licked the oak—memories whispering through ash. Isabelle sat silently nearby, the open box between them, her eyes still wet with what she had discovered earlier: the letter from Victor.
And now, tucked beneath old files and worn photographs, Dante's fingers grazed something small and u
