Chapter 11

Vince's POV

The room felt stifling, like the walls were closing in with every second we stayed here. I leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed over my chest, and scanned the faces around me. Enzo sat across from me, his expression hard and unreadable, though I could see the tension in his clenched jaw. Isabella sat quietly near the fireplace, her slender fingers curled around a mug of tea.

"We need to leave," I said, keeping my tone steady but firm. "Staying here is a death sentence."

Enzo's sharp gaze locked onto mine. "And where exactly do you think we can go, Vince? The Morettis have the roads locked down, and the forest is littered with traps. You think we can just waltz out of here unscathed?"

His skepticism wasn't unwarranted, but it grated on me nonetheless. "I have a contact. Someone who can help."

"Who?"

"Elena."

The name landed like a grenade in the room. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Even Isabella, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, looked up, her wide blue eyes flicking between Enzo and me.

"Elena?" Enzo finally said, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You mean the same Elena who sold out the Romanos? The woman who practically handed us to the Morettis on a silver platter?"

"She didn't sell us out," I snapped, pushing off the table to stand toe-to-toe with him. "She did what she had to do to survive."

"And now you're willing to trust her with our lives?" he shot back, rising from his chair. His broad shoulders loomed over me, but I didn't back down.

"Do you have a better idea?" I challenged. "Because sitting here waiting for the Morettis to find us isn't exactly a winning strategy."

Enzo's jaw tightened, his dark eyes narrowing. "If this goes south, it's on you. Remember that."

"Fine," I said, the word coming out sharper than I intended.

"Wait," Isabella interjected, her soft voice cutting through the tension. She set her mug down and stood, her delicate frame dwarfed by the weight of the conversation. "Who is Elena?"

I hesitated, my chest tightening. "She's an old ally. Someone I trusted once."

"Once," Enzo muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Ignoring him, I turned back to Isabella. "She has a safe house and medical supplies. If we can reach her, she can help us."

Isabella bit her lip, her brows furrowing. "Do we have any other options?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then we don't have a choice, do we?" Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them in front of her.

I glanced at Enzo, who still looked like he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. His silence was as close to agreement as I was going to get.

"We leave at first light," I said, my voice final.

As I walked away to prepare, Elena's face lingered in my mind-her sharp green eyes, the scar that traced her jawline, a reminder of the life she'd lived. Trusting her felt like balancing on the edge of a knife, but what choice did we have?

Isabella's quiet voice echoed in my ears as we stepped into the cold night air hours later: Do you trust her?

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, Elena's warning haunted me. The Morettis wouldn't just let us go. They'd make sure every step we took was one closer to death.

The forest was a predator's playground, and we were the prey. Every step I took felt heavier than the last, my gut screaming that we shouldn't be here. The path was too open, too quiet. I kept my gaze sharp, my hand on the grip of my gun, leading us through the uneven terrain.

Behind me, I could hear Enzo muttering, his breath tight with frustration. "This doesn't feel right, Vince."

"I know," I murmured, my voice low but steady. "Eyes up. We don't have room for mistakes."

Isabella's light footsteps crunched the leaves behind Enzo, quick and almost hesitant. She was trying to keep up, but the tension in her movements was unmistakable. I didn't blame her. The weight of what we were walking into was pressing on all of us.

And then I saw it-a glint of wire stretched low across the ground, nearly invisible under the pale moonlight. My stomach turned to ice.

"Stop," I said sharply, throwing out my arm to block Enzo.

He halted immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What is it?"

I crouched and pointed toward the tripwire. "They've rigged the area. We're walking into their playfield."

Enzo's curse was low and venomous. "Damn it. What now?"

But before I could answer, the forest exploded into chaos.

The first blast hit to our left, the force knocking me to the ground. My ears rang, and the world spun as I pushed myself up. Smoke and debris clouded the air, stinging my eyes. I turned, barely able to make out Isabella's silhouette through the haze.

"Scatter!" I roared, my voice barely audible over the second explosion.

I saw Enzo dive into the trees, disappearing into the shadows. My chest tightened as I searched frantically for Isabella. She stumbled, her small figure lost in the smoke, and then-just like that-she was gone.

I don't know how long I ran, but every second felt like an eternity. My lungs burned, and the acrid smoke stung my throat, but I couldn't stop. Isabella was out there, alone. The thought of her falling into the hands of the Morettis made my blood run cold.

I pushed through a dense thicket, my breath catching when I finally spotted her. She stood frozen in the clearing, facing off against a Moretti soldier. He was tall and broad, his gun leveled directly at her chest.

I cursed under my breath, my mind racing. I couldn't risk a shot from this distance-not without hitting her.

Before I could act, Isabella moved.

She didn't run. She didn't cry out. Instead, she reached down, grabbing a fistful of dirt and leaves. In one swift motion, she hurled it into the soldier's face.

The man stumbled back, swearing as he clawed at his eyes. Isabella didn't waste a second. She snatched up a thick branch from the ground and swung it hard. The wood connected with a sickening crack, and the soldier dropped like a stone.

I surged forward, my heart pounding in relief. "Isabella!"

She turned, her face pale but fierce, and I grabbed her arm, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her small frame trembled against mine, and for a moment, I let myself breathe.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice rough with emotion.

"I'm fine," she whispered, though her voice wavered. "I just I didn't think he'd"

"You did good," I said, pulling back to meet her gaze. Her blue eyes shimmered, and I felt a wave of something I couldn't quite name-relief, pride, something deeper.

But the moment shattered when Enzo's voice called out from the trees.

"Vince! Isabella! Over here!"

I grabbed her hand, guiding her through the smoke until we reached Enzo. He stood near a tree, holding a bloodied scrap of cloth in his hand. His face was pale, his jaw clenched.

"They're herding us," he said, his voice low and grim. "This wasn't just a trap-they're steering us exactly where they want us to go."

The weight of his words settled like lead in my chest. They weren't just hunting us. They were playing with us.

I tightened my grip on Isabella's hand, a promise burning in my mind. Whatever came next, I wasn't letting her out of my sight again.