CHAPTER 107

DANTE'S POV

As I trudged down the narrow corridor of the old, crumbling building, the sounds of muffled cries and distant screams echoed through the air, each one a testament to the unspeakable horrors that occurred within these walls.

The air was thick with the scent of fear and desperation, which I had become all too familiar with. I had been in this business for more years than I cared to remember, and the things I'd witnessed had long since hardened my heart. I didn't care about any of the people in these cells. I trained myself not to trust anyone else. They'd be used against me—even family. Yet, something about Tanya stirred a long-forgotten feeling deep within me.

As I approached her cell, her voice reached my ears. She was screaming, her voice loud and filled with pain. She had been subjected to the most brutal of tortures, yet she refused to talk. I admired that about her; it wasn't easy for anyone not to break with these tortures, but she managed not to break. He