Chapter 17
(POV: Isabella)
The hidden base was more foreboding than reassuring. The entrance, a rusted steel door set into the side of a hill, creaked loudly as Vince pushed it open. Enzo's flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a narrow staircase leading downward. The air was damp, carrying the faint smell of mildew and decay.
"This is it?" I asked, my voice echoing slightly in the confined space.
Enzo turned to me, his jaw tight. "It's safer than staying out there."
I glanced over my shoulder, the rain still falling in sheets outside, the distant thunder rolling like a warning. Safe was a relative term these days.
As we descended into the bunker, the stale air grew heavier. The space opened into a dimly lit room lined with metal shelves, many of them tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers, cans of food, and shattered glass littered the floor.
"They left in a hurry," Tony observed, stepping around a broken chair.
"Or they didn't leave at all," Vince muttered, his hand resting on the grip of his gun.
The tension in the room was palpable as we fanned out to inspect our surroundings. I ran my fingers along a dusty countertop, my eyes scanning for anything useful.
"Over here," Enzo called, his voice cutting through the silence.
We gathered around him as he held up a bloodstained message written in bold, uneven letters on the wall: The mole is closer than you think.
My stomach churned as I read the words, my mind racing. "Is this a warning or a taunt?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Either way, it means someone's been here recently," Enzo said, his eyes narrowing. "We need to stay on guard."
Night fell quickly in the bunker, the single generator casting a dim, flickering light over the space. The sound of rain had faded into the background, but the tension among us was louder than ever.
Tony had been quiet since we arrived, keeping to himself in a far corner. It wasn't like him to be so withdrawn, and it made my nerves buzz.
I watched as he slipped into a side corridor, glancing over his shoulder before disappearing. My instincts kicked in, and I followed, careful to keep my footsteps silent.
The corridor led to a small storage room, where I found Tony hunched over a burner phone, speaking in low tones.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed into the device.
I froze, my heart pounding. Was he?
Before I could hear more, a hand landed on my shoulder. I whirled around, stifling a gasp, only to find Enzo staring at me. His eyes flicked past me to Tony, his expression darkening.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"Tony," I whispered back, motioning toward the room.
Enzo stepped inside, his presence immediately filling the space. Tony snapped his head up, quickly shoving the phone into his pocket.
"What's going on?" Enzo demanded, his tone sharp.
"Nothing," Tony said, too quickly.
"Don't lie to me," Enzo growled, taking a step closer. "What were you doing?"
Tony squared his shoulders, his eyes flashing. "Trying to keep us alive. Isn't that what we're all doing?"
The tension crackled between them, and I half-expected a fight to break out right there. But before Enzo could press further, Vince appeared in the doorway, holding a small notebook.
"You two might want to see this," he said, his voice grim.
The notebook was old, the pages yellowed and filled with a mix of numbers, symbols, and names. Enzo flipped through it quickly, his eyes scanning the contents.
"Carlo," he muttered, pointing to a name that was crossed out.
My stomach clenched as I saw another name circled in red: Tony.
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(POV: Enzo)
The tension in the room was suffocating as Tony stared at the notebook, his face a mask of disbelief.
"This is a setup," he said, his voice steady but low. "You think I'd betray my own family?"
"I don't know what to think," I replied coldly, holding the notebook up. "But your name is circled, Tony. How do you explain that?"
"I don't need to explain anything," he snapped, stepping closer. "You've known me for years, Enzo. You know I'd never do this."
"Do I?" I shot back, the words sharper than I intended. "Because lately, you've been acting like someone with a lot to hide."
Tony's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might throw a punch. But instead, he took a step back, shaking his head.
"This is exactly what they want," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "The Morettis. They want us to tear each other apart."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But the evidence was damning, and the stakes were too high to ignore.
Before I could respond, the bunker's perimeter alarm blared, a shrill, piercing sound that sent my adrenaline surging.
"Someone's here," Vince said, drawing his gun.
"Everyone, positions," I ordered, my voice steady despite the chaos.
As we scrambled to prepare for whatever was coming, a single thought burned in my mind: If Tony was the mole, this could be the end for all of us.