Chapter 30

Isabella's pov

The smell of blood hit me first, sharp and metallic, before I even saw him lying there. My chest tightened as I approached, each step hesitant, every instinct in me warring over whether to help him or leave him to die.

There he was. Tony.

He looked so small on the cold concrete floor, like a broken doll discarded after play. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and viscous, soaking his once-pristine shirt and seeping into the cracks of the ground. His face was pale, almost ghostly, the sharp features I once trusted now slack and lifeless.

I froze, gripping the gun in my trembling hands. This was the man who had betrayed us, the man whose lies had nearly cost us everything. A traitor.

"Isabella, don't," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. But my feet wouldn't listen. My anger at him warred against the pang of humanity clawing at my chest. I crouched down next to him, the barrel of my gun brushing against my leg as I reached out instinctively to check his pulse.

It was faint, but it was there.

Damn it, Tony. Why couldn't you just die cleanly and leave me with less guilt?

His eyelids fluttered weakly, and a low groan escaped his lips. My hands hesitated, hovering over his wound. Blood was gushing out too fast. He wouldn't last much longer.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I hissed, more to myself than to him. My voice cracked under the weight of my fury. "You betrayed us, Tony. Why should I save you?"

I didn't expect an answer. His lips moved, though, trembling as if they were struggling against the weight of a thousand secrets. I leaned closer, against my better judgment.

"It's not just the Morettis," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, raw and strained. "There's someone else pulling the strings."

His words were like a dagger to my chest. Someone else? My stomach churned as I tried to process what that could mean. Another player in this deadly game? Another threat looming over us?

My hand pressed harder against the wound, despite the anger boiling inside me. His eyes fluttered shut again, and I panicked, shaking him slightly. "No, Tony, stay with me!"

"Isabella!"

Enzo's voice startled me, cutting through the haze of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up, seeing his tall, commanding frame emerge from the shadows. His dark eyes flicked from me to Tony, narrowing with cold disdain.

"You're saving him?" he asked, incredulous.

"Not saving," I snapped back, though my hands betrayed me as they worked frantically to stop the bleeding. "He has information. He just said something-something about someone else pulling the strings. We can't let him die, not yet."

Enzo's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to drag me away from Tony's lifeless body. But instead, he crouched down next to me, his expression a mask of barely contained fury.

"Fine," he bit out, grabbing the first-aid kit from his bag. "But if he tries anything"

"I know," I interrupted, my voice steady but cold. "He's not in a position to try anything right now."

Tony groaned again, his lips twitching as if to form more words. My hands were slick with his blood as I worked to pack the wound with gauze. It was a losing battle, and we both knew it. Enzo's hands joined mine, his movements sharp and efficient, but his anger simmered just beneath the surface.

"Why are you doing this?" Enzo asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear it.

I hesitated. "Because I need answers," I said finally, my voice hard. "And if he dies, we'll never know the truth."

"And what if the truth doesn't change anything?"

I didn't answer him. I couldn't.

Tony's breathing was shallow now, his chest barely rising and falling. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mixing with the blood smeared across his face. He looked up at me, his eyes unfocused but full of something that looked like regret-or maybe I was just imagining it.

"You're too kind," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Don't make me regret it," I muttered, my hands trembling as I tightened the bandage around his torso.

For a moment, everything felt still-too still. And then Tony's body jerked slightly, his head tilting toward me. His lips moved again, forming one last whisper.

"It's not over," he said.

And then his eyes closed.

I sat back on my heels, my heart pounding in my chest. "Enzo," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "He knows something. Something big."

Enzo's gaze was like a steel blade as he looked at me. "Then he better live long enough to tell us what it is."

I wanted to believe Tony's words, to find the meaning buried in them, but all I could feel was the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. Whoever was pulling the strings, they weren't done with us yet.

And something told me the worst was still to come.

Tony's cryptic words rattled around in my head like loose bullets. "It's not just the Morettis someone else is pulling the strings." The way he said it-strained, urgent-refused to leave me.

I sat across from him now, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as he lay unconscious on the couch we'd dragged into the corner of this dilapidated safe house. The light above flickered sporadically, throwing long shadows across the room. Enzo leaned against the far wall, arms folded, his sharp gaze pinned on me like I was the enemy.

"You're too close to this, Isabella," he said finally, breaking the tense silence. His voice was clipped, his words heavy with judgment.

I scowled, refusing to look at him. "Too close to what? To wanting answers?"

"To him." Enzo gestured toward Tony, his lip curling as if just the sight of the man disgusted him. "He's not worth it. You're letting your feelings cloud your judgment."

"Feelings?" I snapped, my voice rising. "Don't try to twist this into something it's not. Tony's words could mean everything. If there's another enemy out there, we need to know."

Enzo pushed off the wall and took a step closer, his imposing frame casting a shadow over me. "And what if he's lying? What if this is just another way to mess with our heads?"

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms. "And what if it's not? We can't afford to ignore this, Enzo."

A sharp knock on the door interrupted our argument. My heart jumped to my throat, and I immediately reached for the gun tucked into my waistband. Enzo shot me a look, his expression silently commanding me to stay back.

He moved to the door, his steps silent and deliberate. With one hand on the knob and the other gripping his weapon, he opened it just enough to peer outside.

"It's me," Sienna's voice called from the other side.

Enzo exhaled sharply and opened the door fully, allowing Sienna to slip inside. She looked around the room, her dark eyes scanning every corner as if expecting an ambush. Her sleek black jacket clung to her lithe frame, and the faint scent of gunpowder clung to her like a second skin.

"What's the status?" she asked, nodding toward Tony.

"Still unconscious," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But he said something before he passed out-something about another player involved."

Sienna arched a brow, her expression unreadable. "Another player?"

"That's what he said," Enzo cut in, his tone skeptical. "But we don't know if it's true or just more of his manipulation."

Sienna crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of the table. "If it is true, then we're in deeper trouble than we thought. The Morettis are dangerous enough on their own. Adding another enemy into the mix" She didn't finish the sentence, but the weight of her words hung in the air.

My eyes drifted back to Tony. His breathing was shallow, his face pale, but he was alive-for now. As much as I hated him for what he'd done, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was telling the truth.

"We found this on him," Sienna said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. She handed it to me, and I unfolded it carefully.

The paper was stained with blood, but the words were still legible. A list of names.

Enzo stepped closer, his brow furrowing as he read over my shoulder. "These are Moretti associates."

"Not just Moretti associates," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Look at this one." I pointed to a name near the bottom of the list.

Enzo's face darkened. "That's not possible."

But it was. The name belonged to someone we both knew-someone who had been an ally to the Romanos for years.

Sienna leaned in, her expression growing more serious. "If this list is accurate, then we've got a mole in our ranks. Someone's been feeding information to the Morettis."

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. The betrayal stung even more than Tony's.

"We need to wake him up," I said, turning to Enzo. "He knows more than he's telling us."

Enzo hesitated, his jaw clenching as he weighed the options. "And if he's lying?"

"Then we'll deal with it," I said firmly. "But right now, he's our only lead."

Sienna nodded in agreement. "I'll get some smelling salts."

As she left the room, Enzo and I stood in silence, the tension between us palpable. I could feel his eyes on me, his disapproval radiating like heat.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said quietly.

"So do I," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

But deep down, I wasn't sure.

Moments later, Sienna returned with the smelling salts. She handed them to me, and I crouched next to Tony, holding the small vial under his nose.

He jerked awake with a gasp, his eyes wild and unfocused. For a moment, I thought he was going to pass out again, but then his gaze locked onto mine.

"Tony," I said, keeping my voice steady. "We found the list. We know there's a mole."

His lips parted, but no words came out. I grabbed his shoulder, shaking him gently but firmly. "Who is it, Tony? Who's pulling the strings?"

His eyes flickered with fear, and for a moment, I thought he was going to tell me. But then his body went limp again, his head lolling to the side.

"No!" I cried, shaking him harder.

"He's still alive," Sienna said quickly, checking his pulse. "But he's weak. He's not going to last long without medical attention."

Enzo let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair. "This is a waste of time. We should've left him for dead."

"And missed this?" I shot back, holding up the bloodstained list. "Enzo, this changes everything."

He didn't respond, but the tension in his jaw told me he wasn't convinced.

I looked back at Tony, my mind racing. Whoever was behind this-whoever was pulling the strings-they eren't just coming for Tony or the Romanos. They were coming for all of us.

And I wasn't sure we'd survive the storm.