CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dante swirled the amber whiskey in his glass, watching as the liquid clung to the crystal edges before settling. Outside the window, the world stretched beneath him—vast, indifferent. But none of it mattered. Not the city lights flickering like dying stars, not the wealth and power he had accumulated.

The cabin lights cast a dim glow over the private jet's luxurious interior, illuminating the dark leather seats and polished wood. The hum of the engines was steady, a rhythmic pulse that did little to ease the chaos brewing in Dante's mind.

He was getting close to her.

His phone vibrated against the sleek table beside him. Without looking, he picked it up, bringing it to his ear.

"Speak. Any sightings?" he asked coolly, bringing the glass to his lips.

A hesitant voice crackled through the speaker. "Still no sighting, boss. The girl hasn't left the pack lands since she entered."