Chapter 25

POV: Isabella

The fire crackled weakly, casting long, flickering shadows across the clearing. My soaked clothes clung to my skin, the chill seeping into my bones despite the flames. Enzo sat across from me, his dark eyes trained on the bracelet he'd found-a bracelet that belonged to me. I could feel the weight of suspicion radiating off him, Vince, and even Tony.

I wrapped my arms around my knees, desperate to stop the trembling. It wasn't just the cold-it was the look in their eyes. Doubt. Distrust.

I wanted to scream, to demand how they could think I was the mole after everything we'd been through. But I swallowed the words, knowing they wouldn't help. If I lost my temper now, it would only make me look guiltier.

Vince's burner phone buzzed, breaking the tense silence. He snatched it up quickly, but not before I caught a glimpse of the screen.

They're closer than you think.

Vince's jaw tightened as he stood and walked a few paces away, his back to us. I exchanged a glance with Enzo, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Isabella," Tony's voice cut through the quiet. "Where did you lose the bracelet?"

I turned to him, my chest tightening. His tone wasn't accusatory, but there was a hint of something else-doubt, maybe, or fear.

"I don't know," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It must've fallen off during one of the fights."

"Convenient," Vince muttered from where he stood.

I shot to my feet, anger surging through me. "I don't know what you're trying to imply, but I've risked my life just as much as you have!"

"Have you?" Vince turned to face me, his eyes cold. "Or have you been leading us into traps this whole time?"

"That's enough," Enzo said, his voice low but firm.

I looked at him, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but his expression was unreadable. That hurt more than Vince's words.

"I'm not the mole," I said quietly, my voice shaking. "You have to believe me."

Enzo stared at me for a long moment before nodding. "We don't have proof of anything yet. Until we do, no more accusations."

Vince scoffed but didn't argue. He pocketed his phone and sat down near the fire, muttering something under his breath.

The tension in the group was unbearable as we prepared to move again. Vince insisted we couldn't stay in one place for too long, and as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

Enzo led the way, his pistol drawn and his shoulders tense. I stayed close to him, despite the lingering tension between us. Tony limped behind, his injury slowing him down. Vince brought up the rear, his eyes darting around like he expected an ambush at any moment.

The forest was eerily quiet, the only sound the crunch of leaves underfoot. Every shadow looked like an assassin, every rustle of leaves a potential threat.

"Where are we even going?" Tony asked, his voice strained.

"There's a hunting cabin a few miles from here," Vince said. "It's off the grid. We can regroup there."

"And you're sure it's safe?" I asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

Vince shot me a glare but didn't answer.

By the time we reached the cabin, night had fully fallen. The structure was small and dilapidated, barely more than a shack. But it was shelter, and at this point, that was all that mattered.

Inside, the air was stale, and the furniture was covered in a thick layer of dust. Vince immediately started checking the perimeter, while Enzo helped Tony sit down on a rickety chair.

I stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do. My eyes kept drifting to Enzo, but he avoided looking at me.

"Isabella," he said finally, his voice quiet. "Can we talk?"

I nodded, following him outside. The night was cold, the air sharp against my skin. Enzo leaned against a tree, his hands in his pockets.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question caught me off guard. "Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"

"Because right now, I'm not sure I can trust anyone."

His words cut deeper than I expected. "You think I'm the mole."

"I don't want to," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "But Vince has a point. We've been ambushed too many times. Someone's been feeding them information."

"It's not me," I said, my voice trembling. "I swear, Enzo, it's not me."

He studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. Finally, he nodded. "I want to believe you. But if you know something-anything-you need to tell me now."

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. "I don't know anything. I just want this nightmare to end."

He stepped closer, his expression softening. "It will. We'll get through this."

I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him. But the doubt in his eyes was still there, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Inside the cabin, Vince was pacing, his phone in hand. Tony was half-asleep in the chair, his face pale and drawn.

"We can't stay here long," Vince said as we walked in. "They'll find us."

"And where do you suggest we go?" Enzo asked, his tone sharp.

"Back to the city," Vince replied. "We can regroup with the Romanos and figure out our next move."

"That's suicide," I said. "The Morettis will be waiting for us."

"Do you have a better idea?" Vince snapped.

"Enough," Enzo said, cutting through the argument. "We'll figure it out in the morning. For now, we rest."

Reluctantly, we all settled in for the night, though none of us truly slept. The cabin was quiet, but the tension was palpable.

As I lay on the hard wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. And as much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I couldn't help but wonder if Vince was right.

Was the mole closer than I thought?

The faint sound of footsteps outside the cabin jolted me awake. I sat up, my heart pounding, and met Enzo's eyes. He nodded silently, his hand moving to his gun. Whoever was out there, they weren't here to talk.