Chapter 5

Isabella Pov

My heart pounded like a drum as Enzo and I burst out of the Viper's Den and into the icy night. The bitter wind whipped at my face, tearing through my jacket and chilling me to the bone. The city around us was eerily silent, the usual hum of life muted under the weight of the danger we had narrowly escaped.

We ran, our footsteps pounding against the pavement, the sound echoing off the narrow alley walls. Every breath burned in my chest, but I couldn't stop. I dared a glance over my shoulder, half expecting to see shadows emerging from the darkness, but the alley remained empty. Still, I couldn't shake the image of the mysterious figure who had saved us.

"Who was that?" I gasped, trying to match Enzo's pace. His long strides made it impossible to keep up, but I pushed myself harder, ignoring the stitch in my side.

"I don't know," Enzo replied, his voice tight. He slowed just enough to glance back at me, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of pursuit. "But whoever he was, he knew exactly what he was doing. We got lucky, Bella. Without him" He trailed off, his jaw tightening. "We wouldn't have made it out."

The gravity of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. I nodded, though my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The Morettis. Marco. The ambush. And now this stranger, swooping in like some shadowy guardian angel. None of it made sense.

"Do you think we can trust him?" I asked, my voice trembling as we darted into a shadowy corner to catch our breath. My heart felt like it might burst out of my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was from the running or the fear clawing at my insides.

Enzo's expression darkened. "Trust?" He let out a harsh laugh, one devoid of humor. "We can't afford that right now. But we also can't ignore the fact that he saved our lives. We need to figure out who he is and what he wants."

I nodded, though unease settled like a stone in my stomach. Whoever this man was, I doubted his intentions were entirely altruistic. People didn't involve themselves in situations like ours without expecting something in return.

The weight of the note in my pocket felt heavier with every passing second. Why had someone sent me to the Viper's Den? What was the purpose of the ambush? And who could orchestrate something so precise? My instincts screamed that this was bigger than just a rivalry between families.

When we finally reached the car, parked several blocks away in a desolate part of town, Enzo yanked open the driver's door, his movements tense. He scanned the area one last time before sliding in. I followed suit, sinking into the passenger seat and letting the door close with a solid thud.

"Where to?" I asked, my voice shakier than I intended.

"We need to regroup," Enzo said as he started the car. The engine hummed softly, a small comfort in the oppressive silence of the night. "But first, we need a safe place. We've been out in the open too long."

I didn't argue. He was right. The longer we stayed exposed, the greater the danger. But the silence that followed was unbearable. As the car sped through the nearly deserted streets, my thoughts churned relentlessly.

Marco's betrayal. The Morettis' involvement. The mysterious savior. Each piece of the puzzle seemed more convoluted than the last. My head throbbed as I tried to make sense of it all.

The city lights blurred past us, their glow casting fleeting shadows across Enzo's face. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white with tension. I could see the storm brewing in his eyes, but he said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, we pulled into an underground garage beneath a sleek, modern building. The stark contrast between its cold, sterile walls and the chaos of our night was jarring.

"Stay close," Enzo instructed as we got out of the car. His tone brooked no argument, and I obeyed without question.

He led me to a reinforced door at the far end of the garage. After punching in a code, the lock clicked open, revealing a narrow hallway that led to an elevator. The ride up was suffocatingly quiet, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

When the elevator doors slid open, I stepped into a spacious, modern apartment. The clean lines and minimalist decor should have been calming, but instead, they felt sterile-cold. Lifeless.

"We'll be safe here," Enzo said as he locked the door behind us and activated the security system. "Only a handful of people know about this place."

I nodded, though the knot of anxiety in my chest refused to loosen. My legs felt heavy as I wandered to the windows, drawn to the view of the city below. The sea of lights stretched endlessly, but instead of comfort, it only heightened my unease. Tonight, those lights felt like beacons of danger, each one hiding a new threat.

"What now?" I asked softly, my reflection in the glass mirroring the turmoil inside me.

Enzo joined me by the window, his broad frame casting a shadow across the room. "We figure out what Marco and the Morettis are planning," he said, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. "And we find out who sent that note. There's more going on here than we realize, Bella. A lot more."

My mind raced as his words sank in. "Do you think it's Tony?" I asked hesitantly. "He swore he wasn't the mole, but"

Enzo's expression darkened. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice heavy. "I want to believe he's innocent, but we can't trust anyone right now. Not until we have proof."

The weight of his words settled over me like a suffocating blanket. If Tony wasn't the mole, then who was? And if he was guilty what else had he done to betray us?

The shrill ringing of Enzo's phone shattered the silence, making me jump. He answered immediately, his face hardening as he listened to the voice on the other end.

"What is it?" I asked when he ended the call, unable to keep the urgency out of my voice.

"That was one of our men," he said, his tone clipped. "Tony's gone."

"Gone?" I repeated, dread tightening my chest. "What do you mean, gone?"

"The moment we left the estate, he disappeared. No one knows where he is."

A chill ran down my spine as the implications sank in. If Tony was innocent, why would he run? But if he was guilty what was he planning?

"We need to find him," Enzo said, his voice steely with resolve. "If he's the mole, we can't let him get away. And if he's innocent, we need to know who set him up."

I nodded, though my thoughts were already racing ahead. The note. The ambush. The stranger. It was all connected-I could feel it. But how?

As we stepped back into the elevator, preparing to plunge once more into the chaos of the night, a gnawing thought took root in my mind.

This wasn't just a game of cat and mouse. We weren't the ones in control.

We were the pawns.

And the puppet master? They were far closer than we dared to imagine.