Chapter 41

(Enzo's POV)

A dull, persistent ache pulsed through my body, but I shoved it aside the second my gaze met his.

Lorenzo Callahan.

He was the reason I had scars. The reason I had learned to survive. And now, the reason I had to fight for my life once again.

He carried himself like nothing in this world could touch him, a quiet arrogance in every movement. His tailored suit remained crisp, his posture relaxed, as if he was greeting an old friend instead of a man he had once left for dead.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.

"You had potential, Enzo," Lorenzo said, his tone almost fond. "But you always let your emotions get in the way."

I kept my breathing steady as the room tightened around me. Syndicate enforcers had closed in, blocking every exit. Their fingers hovered near triggers, waiting for the smallest excuse.

Lorenzo took another slow step toward me, his polished shoes tapping against the concrete. "We can skip the theatrics. You know how this ends. Surrender now, and I'll make sure you keep breathing. If you resist" His head tilted slightly. "Well, let's not be dramatic. We both know what happens next."

My stomach churned, but I didn't let it show.

"I don't trust a damn word you say."

Lorenzo's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "No? Then perhaps you'll believe what I tell you next."

The pause that followed was deliberate, a cruel moment stretched just long enough to make the anticipation unbearable. Then, with all the ease of discussing an insignificant memory, he spoke a name.

"Isabella's brother."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

A single second felt like an eternity.

I heard Isabella's sharp breath. Felt the shift in the air as her entire world tilted.

And then the real damage began.

(Isabella's POV)

The words hit like a blade straight to the chest.

I had carried the weight of my brother's death for months. I had grieved, I had raged, and I had lived with the knowledge that the Morettis had stolen him from me.

But Lorenzo's voice held none of the expected deceit. He spoke with certainty as if he was revealing a long-hidden truth rather than spinning a lie.

"The Morettis had nothing to do with his death," Lorenzo continued, his voice measured, each syllable dragging across my skin like barbed wire. "It was the Syndicate that took his life. And Enzo?" He exhaled lightly, a mockery of sympathy. "He played his role in it."

The world around me dulled.

I turned to Enzo, my pulse hammering in my ears.

"Tell me it isn't true."

His jaw tensed, his breathing shallow.

He didn't deny it.

The silence between us stretched, turning colder, heavier.

A hollow pit opened in my stomach.

I had trusted him. Fought beside him. Believed in him.

And now

Lorenzo watched me, amusement flickering in his gaze. "There it is," he murmured as if savoring the unraveling. "That moment when everything you thought you knew starts to fall apart."

I gritted my teeth, forcing my voice to steady. "You're trying to turn me against him."

Lorenzo gave a small, effortless shrug. "I don't have to. You already feel it, don't you?"

I didn't want to acknowledge the seed of doubt that had been planted.

But it was there.

(Enzo's POV)

The betrayal in Isabella's expression gutted me.

Not the fury-anger, I could handle. I had seen rage in a hundred different forms: from enemies, from those I had betrayed, and from the people I had left behind.

But this?

The hurt behind her eyes?

That nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

I wanted to explain. To tell her the truth that had been buried for years. But this wasn't the place, and it certainly wasn't the time.

Lorenzo had orchestrated this perfectly. He had planted the seeds, then stood back, watching them grow, reveling in the destruction.

"See?" he mused, pacing leisurely. "No matter how much you try to escape it, Enzo, your past will always catch up to you. Even the ones closest to you will never truly stand by your side."

I knew where this was going.

Lorenzo wasn't here to kill me outright. He was here to break me first.

But I couldn't let him win.

I scanned the room, calculating the risks. The Syndicate's men were on edge, fingers ready to pull triggers at a moment's notice. If I made the wrong move, I'd be dead before I could take my next breath.

But I didn't have a choice.

If I hesitated, we were done for.

So I moved.

Fast.

Before the closest soldier could react, I lunged. My fingers closed around the grip of his gun, twisting it free from his hands before he had time to process what was happening.

I fired.

The shot echoed through the warehouse like a crack of thunder.

Everything exploded into chaos.

Gunfire erupted from all directions, shouts mixing with the deafening noise of bullets ricocheting off steel and concrete.

I barely had time to react before something-or someone-slammed into me from the side. My grip on the weapon nearly slipped as I staggered, but I kept my feet beneath me, forcing myself forward.

I reached for Isabella, grabbing her wrist.

She stiffened at my touch. That hesitation-that pain-was still there. But we didn't have the luxury of standing still.

"Move!" I barked, yanking her forward as we raced toward the nearest exit.

Julian was already ahead, returning fire with sharp precision.

Lorenzo's voice cut through the chaos, calm and unaffected.

"Find them."

We had seconds before the warehouse became our tomb.