ANTONIO POV

The evening atmosphere is heavy with smoke and the smell of blood. I position myself at the brink of the debris, with my troops encircling me in a close, unyielding barrier. The blazing fire from the tipped-over vehicle threw shadows on the dusty path, revealing the corpses of my fallen soldiers. Dante Moretti kneels in front of me, blood oozing from his injured shoulder, yet his green eyes blaze with unwavering defiance. And my daughter positions herself in front of him, ...