Dante’s P.O.V
Valentina Moretti.
My daughter.
My f*****g daughter.
Five years I searched. Five f*****g years.
Five years of torment, of rage eating me alive, of waking up to the sound of nothing—just silence. Just the echo of her absence. Five years of clawing through city after city, of chasing rumors like a madman, of digging up ghosts only to bury them again. Five years without Selene’s fire. Without her lips on mine. Without the sound of her soft laughter to fill the hollowness of my life.
And now…
Now I stood staring at a photograph that brought me to my knees.
A child. A little girl. Blue eyes that glowed with something fierce, something familiar. She had Selene’s mouth, her soft curve of a jaw, her wild waves of dark hair—but the fire behind those eyes? That was me.
That wa
