Chapter 20

(POV: Enzo)

The fire crackled softly in the corner of the abandoned cabin, casting flickering shadows on the rough wooden walls. The air was heavy with unspoken words, tension curling like smoke around the edges of every glance. Isabella sat on the opposite side of the room, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared into the flames.

I watched her, studying every detail-the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders, the slight tremble in her fingers, the hollow look in her eyes that hadn't been there before. She was different now. The fear, the loss, the constant danger-it had all taken its toll.

And yet, she was still the strongest person I knew.

I stood, my boots scuffing against the floorboards, and her head snapped up. Her dark eyes met mine, wide and startled, like a doe caught in the sights of a hunter.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice low but firm.

Her gaze flickered away, back to the fire. "I don't think now is the time, Enzo."

"It's never the time," I shot back, frustration lacing my words. "But we're running out of moments. And there are things we can't keep avoiding."

She sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want the truth," I said, crossing the room until I was standing in front of her. "About us. About what you're feeling."

Her head jerked up again, and this time, there was fire in her eyes. "You think now is the time to dissect feelings? While we're being hunted, while people are dying? How can you even-"

"Because I need to know," I interrupted, my voice rising. "Because every time I look at you, I see something you're not saying. And I can't-" I stopped, running a hand through my hair, searching for the right words. "I can't protect you if I don't know where we stand."

Her laugh was bitter, a sharp sound that cut through the silence. "Protect me? Is that what this is about? You don't want to protect me, Enzo. You want to control me."

"That's not true," I said, my voice softer now. "Isabella, I-"

"Stop." She stood, her arms falling to her sides. "Just stop. Don't say something you can't take back."

But I was already stepping closer, close enough to see the way her breath hitched, the way her eyes darted to my lips before flicking back to meet mine.

"I can't take it back because it's the truth," I said. "You mean more to me than anyone else, and you know it."

She froze, her eyes wide and unblinking. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the soft whistle of the wind outside.

"Don't do this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

I reached out, my fingers brushing against her arm. "It's already hard, Isabella. Pretending like I don't care, like I don't feel this-" I gestured between us, my voice breaking. "It's killing me."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She looked at me like she was searching for something, some kind of answer, but all I could give her was the truth.

"I don't know how to do this," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Do what?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Feel," she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. "Care about someone when I know it could all fall apart in an instant."

I reached up, cupping her face in my hands. Her skin was warm, soft, and the tears that slipped down her cheeks seared my fingertips.

"It's not about knowing how," I said, my voice steady. "It's about choosing to try. Even if it's terrifying."

She closed her eyes, her breath shaky. For a moment, I thought she might pull away, but then she leaned into my touch, her forehead resting against mine.

"You make it sound so simple," she murmured.

"It's not," I said. "But you're worth it. Every risk, every fear-you're worth it."

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands coming up to grip my wrists. "You're such an idiot."

"Maybe," I said, smiling faintly. "But I'm your idiot."

Her eyes opened, and for the first time in days, I saw something other than fear in them. Hope.

The moment hung between us, fragile and uncertain, but real. And then, without thinking, I closed the distance between us, my lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both desperate and gentle.

She stiffened for a heartbeat, and I thought she might push me away, but then she melted into me, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair.

The world faded away-no Morettis, no mole, no danger. Just her, warm and alive and so, so beautiful.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless. She looked up at me, her cheeks flushed, and for the first time, she smiled.

"We're idiots," she said.

"Probably," I agreed.

But before we could say anything else, the sound of a branch snapping outside shattered the moment.

She tensed, her eyes snapping to the door. "Did you hear that?"

I nodded, my hand already reaching for my gun. "Stay here."

"Enzo-"

"Stay here," I repeated, my voice firm.

I moved toward the door, my heart racing. Whoever-or whatever-was out there wasn't going to ruin this. Not now.

As I stepped outside, the cold night air bit at my skin. The forest was eerily silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves.

I scanned the area, my grip tightening on my weapon. "Show yourself," I called out, my voice steady.

For a moment, there was nothing. And then, from the shadows, a figure emerged.

It wasn't a Moretti soldier. It was someone far more familiar.

"Vince?" I said, my voice laced with disbelief.

He stepped closer, his face grim. "We need to talk."

And just like that, the fragile peace I'd found with Isabella was shattered.