Chapter 49
The damp, musty air clung to Isabella's skin as she sat in the cold, dimly lit chamber. The weight of the restraints cutting into her wrists did little to shake the fire burning in her chest. She wasn't broken. Not yet.
Across from her, a man lounged with an air of self-importance, twirling a blade in his hand. His amusement was infuriating.
"You really thought you could outrun us?" His tone was smug, dripping with condescension.
She met his gaze without flinching. "If I thought that, you wouldn't be sitting there trying to convince yourself you've won."
For the briefest moment, his smirk wavered.
With slow, deliberate steps, he rose, moving closer. The sharpened edge of his weapon pressed lightly against her neck, enough to send a warning but not enough to draw blood.
His voice dropped. "You think you're clever."
She forced herself to remain still, muscles coiled like a predator waiting to strike.
"You have no one left," he continued. "You're alone, helpless."
A flicker of movement near the door caught her attention. The guard-sloppy, inattentive, hand resting lazily near his holster.
An opening.
They had underestimated her.
They wouldn't live to regret it.
In an explosion of motion, she slammed her shoulder into the table, knocking her captor off balance. He staggered back, momentarily stunned, and that was all she needed.
She twisted, kicking the chair legs out from under herself, shattering the wood against the floor. The sudden movement sent the guard fumbling for his weapon-too late.
With a swift pivot, she snatched the firearm from his grasp and swung it toward them both, breathing heavily.
Their stunned expressions fueled her determination.
She tilted her head. "Still think I'm helpless?"
The acrid scent of burning debris filled Enzo's lungs as he staggered forward, his body barely holding together. His injuries were bad-worse than he let himself believe-but stopping wasn't an option.
Not when she was in there.
He pushed through the pain, through the gunfire still ringing out as their team fought tooth and nail to hold their ground. Every step felt like fire crawling through his veins, but he refused to slow down.
Then, through the smoke and chaos, he saw her.
Standing amidst fallen bodies, weapon in hand, her expression hardened by war.
Relief crashed through him so violently he nearly dropped to his knees.
Before he could take another breath, movement in the shadows caught his eye.
A gun-aimed at her.
Time slowed.
Without hesitation, he lunged, wrapping his arms around her and taking them both down just as the shot cracked through the air.
A burning sensation tore through his side, white-hot pain searing his senses, but he barely registered it.
She gasped beneath him. "Enzo!"
He forced himself up, grimacing. "Not letting them take you."
Her eyes locked onto his, stormy with emotion. "You're reckless."
A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. "And you love it."
A beat of silence.
Then, her whisper. "I do."
Something inside him shifted.
Before he could respond, another voice cut through the moment.
A familiar voice.
"You should've stayed down."
They both turned-
And came face to face with the traitor.
Everything clicked into place.
And the rage that filled Enzo was absolute.
The scent of burning wood and metal thickened the air, swirling around them as the last remnants of battle faded into eerie quiet.
It should have been over.
But the traitor still stood.
Enzo and Isabella faced him, side by side, exhaustion settling deep into their bones. Yet, neither of them wavered.
The man before them smirked despite his wounds, defiance flickering in his eyes. "You really think this is the end?"
Enzo lifted his gun, jaw clenched. "It can be."
A dark chuckle escaped the traitor's lips. Blood trickled down his temple, but his amusement remained.
Then, with a slow breath, he spoke.
A truth neither of them saw coming.
The words slithered into the space between them, poisoning everything they thought they knew.
Isabella's breath hitched.
Enzo's grip tightened.
For the first time since this nightmare began, doubt flickered in their eyes.
And in that single, fleeting hesitation, the traitor struck.
A blur of motion.
A desperate attempt to escape.
But Isabella was faster.
Her shot rang out, echoing in the silence.
The traitor collapsed.
A beat passed.
Then another.
Enzo swayed.
His knees buckled.
Before Isabella could react, he hit the ground.
Blood pooled beneath him, the color too vivid against the soot-stained floor.
Her heart stopped.
"No," she whispered, dropping to her knees.
His breathing was shallow. Too shallow.
Frantic hands pressed against his wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding.
"Stay with me," she begged, voice breaking.
His lips parted, a faint, tired smile ghosting across his face.
Then-nothing.
His body went still.
And the world shattered.