CHAPTER 109: MEET GRANDFATHER

DANTE'S POV

When the call came from the hospital, I was sitting in my study, the heavy scent of cigar smoke hanging in the air. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow from the desk lamp illuminating the stacks of paperwork and the glass of bourbon I had been nursing. The phone rang, its sharp tone cutting through the silence. I hesitated momentarily before picking it up, steeling myself for what I might hear.

"Mr. Dante, we have some news regarding the girl," the voice on the other end said.

My heart pounded in my chest, a sensation I hadn't felt in years. "Go on," I urged, my voice steady but my mind racing.

"She's your granddaughter, Mr. Dante. The daughter of your late son."

The news from the hospital had hit me like a fast train. She was my granddaughter. Tanya, the girl we had kept locked up in that dingy cell, was the daughter of my late son. I could hardly believe it. My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of my past and the cruel twist of f