Chapter 39
(Isabella's POV)
The hideout loomed in the distance, its cold, industrial silhouette distorted by the smoke and chaos from the explosion. Isabella's heart raced as she crouched behind a pile of debris, surveying the Morettis' compound. Flames flickered from one corner of the building, and panicked shouts echoed in the air. The explosion Enzo had set off created the perfect opportunity, but it came with a heavy cost-Enzo and Nico were still inside, and time was running out.
"We don't have a choice," Isabella whispered, clutching the pistol in her trembling hands. "If we wait any longer, they'll kill him. Or worse."
The others exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of their decision weighing on them.
"You realize this could be suicide?" Nico's brother, Julian, muttered, his knuckles white as he gripped his rifle.
"Then stay behind," Isabella shot back, her voice sharp. "But I'm going in."
With her resolve steeled, Isabella led the way, weaving through the carnage left behind by Enzo's sabotage. The team moved in tandem, silent but deadly, neutralizing guards as they went. Each step deeper into the compound brought more tension, every corner they turned laced with the possibility of an ambush.
Near the inner corridor, Isabella came face-to-face with one of the Morettis' top enforcers-a towering man with a scar running down his cheek. His grin was predatory, his stance oozing confidence as he drew a blade.
"You've got guts, lady," he sneered, lunging at her with terrifying speed.
Adrenaline surged through Isabella as she dodged, narrowly escaping the blade. Using her small frame to her advantage, she ducked and weaved, landing blows when she could. It wasn't enough to overpower him, but her determination and quick thinking allowed her to hold her ground.
The fight reached a turning point when she managed to grab a discarded pipe, swinging it with all her might. The impact knocked the enforcer off balance, giving her just enough time to grab her pistol and fire.
Blood pounding in her ears, Isabella stumbled into a dimly lit room and found Nico tied to a chair, his face battered and bruised. His eyes fluttered open at her approach, and he tried to speak, but his words were garbled.
"Nico" Isabella knelt beside him, frantically working to untie the ropes. "I've got you. Stay with me."
But as she assessed his injuries, a sinking realization hit her-his wounds were worse than they appeared, and they had minutes at best before reinforcements arrived.
(Enzo's POV)
The explosion had thrown the entire compound into chaos, but it hadn't been enough to guarantee his escape. Enzo navigated the crumbling corridors, his movements hindered by a gash on his side that bled freely. Every step was agony, but he pushed forward, his determination outweighing the pain.
As he turned a corner, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows-Dante. The man's smug expression was a dagger to Enzo's heart, a reminder of the past he couldn't escape.
"I knew you couldn't resist coming back," Dante taunted, circling him like a predator. "Always the hero, aren't you, Enzo? Always trying to save the ones you love."
The words struck a nerve, and Enzo clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. "This ends now, Dante," he growled, lunging at the man.
Their fight was brutal and visceral, each blow landing with the weight of years of betrayal and resentment. Dante fought dirty, exploiting Enzo's injuries and taunting him with secrets he had no right to know.
"You think she'll forgive you when she learns the truth?" Dante hissed, pinning Enzo against the wall. "When she finds out about the things you've done in the Syndicate's name?"
Enzo's resolve faltered for a split second, and Dante capitalized on it, delivering a blow that sent Enzo to his knees.
Before Dante could deliver the final strike, a deafening explosion rocked the hideout once again. The walls shook, and the lights flickered, throwing the room into chaos. Enzo seized the distraction, delivering a desperate blow that sent Dante reeling.
As Dante staggered back, he smirked through the blood dripping from his mouth. "You'll never outrun your past, Enzo. And neither will she."
Enzo didn't wait to hear more. With every ounce of strength he had left, he fled toward Isabella and Nico, the weight of Dante's words gnawing at him.
(Isabella's POV)
The smell of smoke and the sound of distant gunfire filled the air as Isabella and Nico made their way through the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the compound. The others provided cover, picking off guards and clearing the path ahead.
When Enzo finally caught up with them, his condition was alarming. Blood stained his shirt, and his movements were sluggish, but his focus remained on getting them out alive.
"Is everyone accounted for?" he rasped, his voice strained.
Isabella nodded, though her worry for him was evident. "We need to stop the bleeding-"
"Not now," he interrupted, his gaze hard. "We keep moving."
As they emerged from the tunnels into the night, the group paused to catch their breath. But the brief reprieve was shattered when one of their own, Julian, pulled a gun and leveled it at Enzo.
"You lied to us," Julian snarled, his hands shaking. "You knew about the mole, didn't you? You knew this whole time, and you let us walk into a trap!"
Enzo's eyes darkened, and he stepped forward despite his injuries. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
But before the argument could escalate, a voice crackled through a nearby radio-the mole's voice. "You've made it this far, but it's over now. The Syndicate always collects its debts."
The group froze as the sound of approaching vehicles echoed in the distance.
(Enzo's POV)
The group took refuge in an abandoned barn, their nerves frayed and their trust shattered. Enzo leaned against the wall, his breathing labored as Isabella tended to his wounds.
"You need to rest," she murmured, her fingers gentle as they worked to stop the bleeding.
Their proximity brought an unexpected sense of comfort, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Enzo allowed himself to be vulnerable. He told Isabella about his past with the Syndicate, the choices he'd made, and the lives he'd ruined.
Isabella listened in silence, her expression unreadable. When he finished, she met his gaze with a mixture of compassion and determination. "Your past doesn't define you, Enzo. What matters is what you do now."
Her words gave him a glimmer of hope, but the weight of their situation was far from lifted.
As the group debated their next move, Enzo's phone buzzed with an unknown number. He hesitated before answering, his blood running cold at the voice on the other end.
"You've survived this long, Callahan," the voice drawled. "But the Syndicate isn't done with you yet. The next time we meet, you won't be so lucky."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Enzo staring at the screen. He knew the fight was far from over.