Chapter 358 The Verdict

• Dante’s hair was cropped close to his scalp, his face gaunt and hollowed. The commanding confidence he once carried was gone. This was no longer the performative grief he had displayed after Natalia’s death—the pale, disheveled act meant to draw sympathy. What radiated from him now was true despair, seeping from his bones, a collapse that came from deep within.
• And the evidence left no room for doubt. It all pointed directly at him—clear, complete, and inescapable. There was no defense to be made.
• He was the principal offender. The red prison vest—bright and garish—looked utterly foreign on him. Dante had never worn anything like it in his life.