Chapter 69

A cold breeze swept through the narrow street, carrying the faint scent of gunpowder and danger. Enzo's instincts screamed at him before his brain could fully register it.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Then-he saw it.

A tiny red dot glowed ominously on his chest.

Oh, hell no.

"DOWN!" Enzo shouted, grabbing Isabella and twisting their bodies.

BANG!

A gunshot cracked through the air. The bullet sliced past his head, so close he could hear it whispering death threats in his ear.

They hit the pavement with a thud. Isabella let out a muffled curse as Enzo shielded her with his body, flattening them behind a stack of wooden crates. The bullet had struck the stone wall behind them, leaving a small crater.

"Well," Isabella panted, "I didn't have 'almost getting sniped' on my to-do list today, but here we are."

Enzo ignored her sarcasm, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. The street was deserted, but the silence was too perfect-like a predator waiting for its prey to move.

Then-another shot!

BANG!

Enzo barely had time to shove Isabella behind an overturned dumpster before the second bullet struck the metal with a sharp clang. Sparks flew.

Isabella's heart hammered against her ribs. "Who the hell is shooting at us?"

Enzo gritted his teeth. "Someone who wants me alive."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He gestured toward the impact marks. "If they wanted me dead, they would've aimed for the head. This? This is a warning shot."

Isabella blinked. "A warning shot?! Since when do assassins do warm-ups?"

Before Enzo could respond, a loud buzzing filled the air.

A phone.

His phone.

Slowly, cautiously, he pulled it from his pocket. The screen glowed with an unknown number.

Isabella shook her head. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Do not answer that."

Enzo answered.

"Bravo, Enzo," a smooth voice hummed from the other end, dripping with amusement. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd survive long enough to pick up."

The abandoned church was eerily quiet, its high ceilings swallowing sound like a tomb. Dust floated through the dim light, disturbed only by Enzo's slow, measured footsteps.

He had been in dangerous situations before. He had faced death, betrayal, and Moretti's psychotic tendencies.

But this?

This was different.

At the altar stood a man in a tailored suit, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. He turned slowly, his piercing gaze locking onto Enzo's.

There was something about him. Something unsettlingly familiar.

"You're late," the man said casually.

Enzo crossed his arms. "I wasn't in a rush."

The man chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "I suppose you wouldn't be. After all, Moretti was never going to be a real challenge for you."

Enzo frowned. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head. "Names are unimportant."

"Then what should I call you? Creepy Suit Guy?"

The man smirked. "Call me the one who holds your fate in his hands."

"Oh, that's original," Enzo muttered. "Very ominous. Do you write villain speeches in your free time?"

The mastermind ignored him. "I have something you want," he continued smoothly.

A screen flickered to life on a nearby table.

Enzo's stomach dropped.

Isabella. Tied to a chair. A gun pressed to her temple.

His pulse roared in his ears.

"Let her go," he said, his voice dangerously calm.

The mastermind sighed. "Come now, Enzo. You know how this works. You want her free? Then give me what I want."

Enzo's jaw tightened. "And what is that?"

The man's smirk returned. "You."

Enzo's blood ran cold.

"You surrender. No tricks, no escape. In return, Isabella walks free."

A tight silence filled the church.

Enzo knew what this meant. If he agreed, he wasn't walking out of here alive.

He was about to speak when-

"Take me instead."

The words cut through the air.

Enzo froze.

He turned sharply.

Isabella stood in the shadows, stepping into the dim light, her expression set in stone.

The mastermind's smirk grew. "Ah, so you were listening."

Enzo glared at her. "Isabella, don't."

She ignored him. "You want a hostage? Take me instead."

The rooftop was bathed in moonlight, the city below a glittering sea of lights. The wind howled between the buildings, carrying the tension that crackled between them.

Enzo stood with his back straight, his fists clenched, his heart raging.

"Don't do this, Isabella."

But Isabella only stepped closer, her eyes burning with quiet resolve. "You know I have to."

"No, you don't," Enzo shot back. "You think I'd let you trade yourself for me?"

She exhaled, shaking her head. "It's not a trade, Enzo. It's a distraction."

Enzo's brow furrowed. "What?"

"I'm buying you time," she said firmly. "They want you for a reason. And until we know why, you need to stay free." She placed a hand on his chest. "But I can hold them off."

Enzo grabbed her wrist. "You think I care about time? I care about you!" His voice cracked slightly. "I'm not losing you, Isabella."

A new voice cut through the tension.

"You never had a choice, Enzo."

Both of them turned.

The mastermind stood at the edge of the rooftop, flanked by two armed men.

"You've always believed you knew the full story," he continued smoothly. "But your past-your real past-has been hidden from you."

Enzo's grip tightened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The mastermind chuckled. "Oh, Enzo. If only you knew who you really are."

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Enzo's face.

But before he could demand answers-

Click.

The sound was unmistakable.

A gun.

Pressed against Isabella's back.

Her expression didn't waver. But the way she looked at Enzo-soft, unbreakable, final-made his breath hitch.

The mastermind tilted his head. "Time's up."

The decision had already been made.

And before Enzo could move, they were taking Isabella away.