Chapter 103: Chapter Hundred-Three – Ashes of an Empire
The room was small and dull, with one flickering bulb and a table full of papers. Dante sat there, his phone in hand, scrolling through the latest reports from what was left of his network.
Isabella walked in carrying two mugs of coffee. “You haven’t moved,” she said, setting one in front of him.
“I just got word,” Dante said, eyes still on the screen. “The Consortium made their move.”
“What move?”
“They’ve absorbed every Deluca asset. The accounts, the warehouses, the fronts—everything. They even used my death certificate to finalize it.”
Isabella blinked. “They’re acting like you don’t exist?”
“They don’t have to act,” he said flatly. “According to the world, I’m already dead.”
She sat down opposite him. “Then what are we supposed to do?”
Dante leaned back, rubbing the side of his jaw. “Nothing left to do. The empire’s gone.”
“So you’re giving up?”
He looked at her, calm but tired. “I’m saying there’s nothing left to fight for.”
She crossed her arms. “You still have me.”
He gave a small laugh. “You shouldn’t be proud of that.”
“Stop it,” she said, annoyed. “I didn’t stay because of your money.”
“I know,” he said. “You stayed because you’re stubborn.”
She frowned. “Because I believe in you.”
Dante didn’t respond. He stared at the coffee instead, tapping his fingers against the mug.
She exhaled loudly. “Fine. Sit there and sulk. But just know—if you really wanted to disappear, you wouldn’t have kept the phone on.”
He glanced at her, unimpressed. “You always have something to say.”
“That’s how you know I’m still here,” she replied.
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door—three short taps, then silence.
Dante reached for his gun immediately. “Who is it?”
A familiar voice replied, “It’s Marco.”
Dante opened the door cautiously. Marco stepped inside, shutting it behind him and locking it. He looked uneasy, holding a brown envelope.
“What is it?” Dante asked.
“It just came through one of our old channels. Anonymous drop.”
“Who sent it?”
“No name,” Marco said. “But it’s recent.”
Dante took the envelope and emptied it onto the table. A single photo slipped out.
He froze.
Isabella came closer. “What is it?”
He turned the photo toward her. It was grainy, clearly taken from a distance, but the faces were clear enough—Giulia and Geneva, standing opposite each other. Giulia’s expression was tense; Geneva’s was unreadable.
“Where was this?” Isabella asked.
Dante’s jaw clenched. “The same place they met. That’s when it was taken.”
Marco nodded. “Whoever took it must’ve been there the whole time. Probably one of the Consortium’s watchers.”
Isabella frowned. “So they were being followed.”
“Not just them,” Dante said quietly. “That message was meant for me.”
Marco shifted. “You think it’s a warning?”
“No,” Dante said. “It’s bait.”
The room went silent again.
Finally, Isabella spoke. “What are you going to do?”
He slid the photo into his jacket pocket. “Find them.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “You don’t even know where they are now.”
“I’ll find out,” he said, standing. “If the Consortium wants me dead, they’ll have to wait. I have something more important to deal with.”
“Dante,” she said firmly, “you just said you lost everything. You can’t walk back into this.”
He looked at her. “Then I won’t walk back. I’ll move around them.”
She gave him a look. “You mean you’re going underground.”
“Exactly.”
Marco crossed his arms. “You sure about this? If you show up anywhere near the city, every camera will flag your face.”
“Then I won’t show my face,” Dante said.
Isabella rolled her eyes. “You really think you can just hide and magically fix this?”
“I don’t need to fix it,” he said. “I just need answers.”
She sighed. “You sound like a man who’s about to do something stupid.”
He smirked slightly. “Probably.”
She threw her hands up. “Unbelievable.”
Marco cleared his throat. “If you’re serious about this, I can arrange transport. But once you leave here, there’s no going back. The Consortium will know you’re alive.”
“They already do,” Dante said simply.
He picked up his coat and moved toward the door. Isabella stood watching him, her expression mixed between anger and concern.
“You can’t do this alone,” she said finally.
He paused, glancing back at her. “I was never alone.”
“Good,” she said, grabbing her bag. “Because I’m coming.”
Dante gave a small shake of his head but didn’t argue. “Fine. But we move quietly.”
Marco nodded. “I’ll set up the route. You’ll need new IDs.”
“Do it fast,” Dante said. “We move before dawn.”
He turned back to the table once more, eyes landing on the photo. Giulia and Geneva—two faces, one past he couldn’t bury.
He tucked it deeper into his pocket and muttered, “If they want a ghost, I’ll give them one.”