Chapter 172 Bitter Truth

Chapter 172 Bitter Truth
Dante was busy going through some files when an email popped up suddenly in his phone.

He glanced at it absentmindedly at first, then froze.

From: Alvaro
Subject: It’s ready.

For a long moment, Dante didn’t move.
The room was silent, heavy, like it already knew what was coming. The faint hum of the city outside felt far away, unreal. His fingers hovered over the screen, then slowly, almost unwillingly, he picked up the phone.

He opened the mail.
A secured file, it was encrypted.

His chest felt like it was shrinking, he was a bit scared to see what was on the file.

He moved it to a flashdrive and plugged in the flashdrive.

The laptop screen glowed in the dim room.
The file loaded.

Dante stared at it for several seconds before clicking play.

At first, there was nothing but the sound of his own breathing.
Then—

Whatever appeared on that screen drained the color from his face.

His eyes hardened, then widened. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. He leaned closer, as if proximity could somehow change what he was seeing.

Seconds passed.
Then minutes.

His breathing grew uneven, his fingers curled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white.

“No…” he whispered, barely audible.
He watched on.

Each second felt heavier than the last. His chest burned, he could feel his heart pounding violently.

His hand trembled as he slammed the laptop shut.

Dante stood abruptly, the chair screeching back as it toppled over. He took a step, then another, like a man struggling to stay upright after being struck.

Then he snapped.

With a guttural sound torn from deep in his chest, he swept his arm across the desk.
Everything crashed to the floor.

Glass shattered, wood splintered. Metal clanged loudly against the walls.

He grabbed the lamp and hurled it across the room. It exploded against the wall, shards raining down like knives. He kicked over the table, sending more glass skidding across the floor.

“Ahhh!” he roared, the sound raw and broken.

He ripped frames off the wall, flung them aside, punched the mirror with no hesitation. The mirror shattered instantly.
Sharp pain ripped through his hand, but he didn’t flinch.

Blood ran down his fingers, dripping onto the floor but still he struck the mirror again and again, until the mirror was nothing but jagged edges clinging to the wall.

His chest heaved violently, as his vision blurred. His legs suddenly gave out beneath him.

Dante fell hard straight onto the shattered glass.

A sharp hiss escaped his lips as shards cut into his back, his arms and his palms. Blood bloomed beneath him, spreading across the floor in dark, uneven patterns but he didn’t try to get up.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling erratically.

Then the tears came. One slipped from the corner of his eye, trailing down into his hairline. Then another and another.
Soon, his shoulders began to shake.
Tears rolled freely down his cheeks, soaking into the floor beneath him, mixing with blood and glass.

His hands trembled as he clenched them, shards digging deeper into his skin. He didn’t care, the pain outside was nothing compared to the devastation tearing through him inside.

A broken sound escaped his throat, half a sob, half a breath he couldn’t seem to catch.

Whatever he had seen on that screen had shattered him completely.

________________

Matteo, who was halfway out of his room before the last sound finished breaking paused in his steps.

“What the hell—” he muttered, already running.

His heart slammed violently against his ribs as he reached Dante’s door. The unmistakable sound of something being destroyed from the inside.

“Dante!” Matteo shouted, pounding on the door. “Open the door!” But he got no response, only a thick, terrifying silence.

Then he heard it.

A broken sound. “What is Dante screaming?” He asked himself feeling worried.

Matteo didn’t hesitate again. “Dante!” he yelled, stepping back.

He threw his shoulder against the door.

The impact sent a sharp jolt through his arm, pain exploding down to his elbow, but the door barely budged.

“Damn it!” Matteo hissed through clenched teeth.

He stepped back once more and slammed into it again, harder this time.

The wood cracked.

On the third hit, something gave way.

The door burst open with a loud crack, slamming against the wall as Matteo stumbled forward, barely catching himself before falling.

“Dante—”

The word died in his throat.

The room looked like a war zone. Furniture were overturned, shattered glass everywhere. Blood smeared across the floor.

And in the middle of it all was Dante. He was on the lying on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. His shirt was torn. Blood seeped from his hands, his arms, his back. His chest rose and fell in uneven, jagged breaths. Tears streamed down his face.

Matteo’s breath caught painfully. “Holy shit…” he whispered.

He rushed forward without thinking, only to wince as glass bit into his own foot through his shoe. He ignored it, dropping to his knees beside Dante, careful but frantic.

“Dante,” Matteo said urgently, his voice shaking now. “Dante, look at me.”

Dante’s eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears still slipping silently from the corners.

“Hey,” Matteo said softly, feeling hurt seeing Dante like that. “Hey, brother. I’m here.”

Dante’s jaw trembled. A broken breath escaped him, then another, until his chest shuddered violently.

“What happened?” Matteo asked quietly, dread curling deep in his gut. “What did they do to you?”

Dante didn’t answer, he only turned his head slightly, his eyes were unfocused.

Matteo clenched his jaw, blinking back his own emotion as he carefully slid an arm beneath Dante’s shoulders, ignoring the sting as glass cut into his skin.

“Don’t move,” he murmured firmly. “Please. Just stay still.”

Dante didn’t resist. He went limp against Matteo’s chest, this time, the tears had stopped pouring out.

Matteo held him tightly, blood staining both of them now, his heart pounding with fear and fury all at once.