Chapter 33

(Isabella's POV)

The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the room. I stood leaning against the edge of the counter, arms crossed, watching Enzo from across the dimly lit kitchen. The flickering bulb above us cast dancing shadows on the walls, and the silence between us felt heavier than the tension that had been building for weeks.

Enzo's back was turned to me as he stared out the small window above the sink, his broad shoulders rigid. The way he carried himself-the quiet strength, the control-had always fascinated me. But tonight, something was different.

"This life," he said finally, his voice low and gravelly, "it's not what I wanted."

His words startled me. Enzo was the epitome of composure, always in control. Vulnerability didn't suit him, but there it was, laced in his tone.

I took a step closer, my curiosity getting the better of me. "What do you mean?"

He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer, that he'd brush me off like he always did. But tonight felt different.

"I didn't choose this," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "I didn't want the blood, the danger, the constant looking over my shoulder. But some choices they get made for you. And once you're in, there's no way out."

The weight of his words hit me harder than I expected. I'd always seen Enzo as unshakable, untouchable. Hearing him admit to regrets, to doubts-it was like glimpsing a side of him he rarely allowed anyone to see.

"Enzo" I started, unsure of what I wanted to say.

He looked at me fully now, his gaze intense but unguarded. "I'm telling you this because you deserve to know. I've done things, Isabella. Things I'm not proud of. And if I could go back"

His voice trailed off, and I felt the space between us shift. There was an unspoken pull, a magnetism I couldn't ignore. He took a step closer, his presence filling the room.

For a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist-just the two of us, caught in a fragile moment of honesty. My heart pounded in my chest as his hand brushed mine, a touch so brief it could've been an accident, but it wasn't.

Then a loud creak shattered the moment.

We both froze. The sound had come from outside the front door.

Enzo reacted first, his hand immediately reaching for the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. I followed suit, adrenaline surging through me.

He motioned for me to stay back, but I shook my head. "I'm not hiding," I whispered.

He didn't argue, his focus razor-sharp as we moved toward the door.

The front door was ajar, swaying slightly as a cold breeze drifted in. Enzo nudged it open with his foot, his gun raised and ready. I stayed close behind him, every muscle in my body tense.

There was no one there.

The hallway outside was empty, but as Enzo stepped forward, something on the floor caught his eye. He crouched down and picked up a small, glinting object-a bullet casing.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned the casing over in his hand, his expression darkening. "It's a message."

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. Whoever had been here didn't come to attack us. They came to remind us that they could.

(Enzo's POV)

The initials engraved on the casing stared back at me like a ghost from my past-L.S.

My stomach churned as memories I'd spent years trying to bury clawed their way to the surface. I clenched the casing in my fist, anger and dread warring within me.

"Who's it from?" Isabella's voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I shoved the casing into my pocket and stood.

"Enzo," she pressed, stepping closer. "What's going on? Who's L.S.?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's complicated."

"Try me," she said, crossing her arms. Her tone was sharp, but her eyes held concern.

I hesitated. I didn't want to drag her into this part of my life, but it was clear that wasn't an option anymore.

"L.S. belongs to someone I thought was gone for good," I admitted. "An old rival from my time with the Morettis."

"I thought the Morettis were our only problem," she said, her frustration evident.

"They're not," I said grimly. "This man he's dangerous, even more so than the Morettis. If he's alive, it means things are worse than I thought."

Her expression hardened. "And when were you planning on telling me about this? Or were you just going to wait until it was too late?"

I didn't have an answer for her. She was right-I'd been keeping secrets, and now those secrets were coming back to haunt me.

Before I could respond, the door to the living room burst open. Nico stumbled in, his face pale and his hands trembling.

"We have a bigger problem," he said, his voice shaking.

In his hands was an envelope, bloodstained and crumpled.

"What the hell is that?" I demanded.

Nico held it out, but not to me. He handed it to Isabella, her name scrawled across the front in jagged handwriting.

(Isabella's POV)

My hands trembled as I took the envelope from Nico. The blood smeared across the paper sent a chill down my spine, but it was the sight of my name-written in uneven, almost frantic letters-that made my stomach twist.

"Open it," Enzo said, his voice low and tense.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the edge of the envelope. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.

"Isabella," Enzo said again, more gently this time. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. But you need to open it."

Taking a deep breath, I tore open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The words scrawled across it were short but chilling:

"You have 24 hours. Run while you can."

The signature at the bottom read The Syndicate.

I stared at the paper, my mind struggling to process the message. "The Syndicate?" I whispered.

"They're not bluffing," Nico said, his voice trembling. "They're coming."

"Who the hell are the Syndicate?" I demanded, looking between Nico and Enzo.

"They're worse than the Morettis," Nico said. "They don't leave survivors."

Enzo cursed under his breath, pacing the room like a caged animal. "This doesn't change anything. We stand our ground."

"Stand our ground?" Nico snapped. "Do you know what these people are capable of? We need to leave, now."

"And run forever?" Enzo shot back. "That's not a plan-it's a death sentence."

I stood between them, their voices blurring into background noise as fear and frustration churned inside me.

"Enough!" I shouted, cutting them off.

They both turned to me, their expressions tense and expectant.

"We can't make any decisions until we know more," I said. "But sitting here arguing isn't helping anyone."

Enzo stepped closer to me, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not running, Isabella. I don't care who they are. I'll protect you."

His words stirred something in me, but before I could respond, my gaze fell on something else in the envelope.

It was a photograph.

My breath caught in my throat as I pulled it out. It was of me, taken from a distance.

"What is it?" Enzo asked, noticing my reaction.

I held up the photograph, my hands shaking. "It's me," I whispered. "This was taken today."

The room fell silent as the realization sank in. The enemy wasn't coming-they were already here.