Dante's POV
I held her.
Held her like I should have all those nights she cried alone. Held her like I should have when I turned my back and walked away. She was breaking in my arms and all I could do was clutch her tighter, as if my grip could pull the pieces back together.
Her sobs were sharp, guttural, cutting through me like knives. Every sound from her lips was a reminder of how badly I'd failed her. How much pain I'd brought into her life. And now… our son was gone.
I'd never felt rage like this. Not even in my darkest moments. It wasn't just anger, it was fire in my chest, roaring in my blood, begging to be unleashed. Antonia had crossed a line she couldn't come back from. And I was going to end this.
I kissed the top of Elena's head and stood, jaw clenched, voice like ice.
"Track her, now .She couldn't have gone far."
