Chapter 54

The safehouse was silent, the air thick with the scent of old wood and dust. The dim glow from the single lamp flickered against the cracked walls, casting long shadows that danced with the slightest movement. Outside, the distant wail of sirens echoed through the city streets, a chilling reminder that their world was anything but safe.

Isabella sat on the worn-out couch, her body sinking into the cushions as she exhaled slowly. Her mind raced, unable to find solace even in the stillness of the moment. For once, there were no gunshots, no blood, no footsteps chasing them in the dark. Yet, the unease remained, settling deep within her bones like an unwelcome guest.

Across the room, Enzo leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes held something she couldn't quite name-something raw, something vulnerable.

"You're thinking too much," he murmured, breaking the silence.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Isabella's lips. "That's rich, coming from you."

Enzo chuckled, the sound low and rough, but there was no real amusement behind it. He pushed off the wall, taking slow steps toward her. "We should enjoy this while it lasts." His voice was softer now, almost hesitant. It was rare for either of them to lower their guard, even around each other.

She met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them. For the first time in what felt like forever, they weren't running. They weren't fighting. They weren't enemies.

Just two people caught in a storm neither of them had created.

Isabella hesitated before reaching out, her fingers lightly tracing the small cut on his jaw. "You're hurt," she whispered.

Enzo caught her hand, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumb brushed against her palm, sending a shiver up her spine. "It's nothing."

She swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. The weight of everything they had been through pressed down on her, but in this moment, it didn't matter. Not the war, not their pasts, not the danger waiting for them outside these walls.

She leaned in, their breaths mingling, the warmth of his presence drowning out the cold reality of their world. Their lips were just a breath apart when something caught her eye.

A plain white envelope.

It sat on the table nearby. Unassuming. Ordinary. But it hadn't been there before.

Frowning, Isabella pulled away, her fingers tightening into a fist. "Where did that come from?"

Enzo followed her gaze, his entire body tensing. "That wasn't there earlier."

Slowly, Isabella reached for it, her pulse quickening. The second her fingers brushed against the paper, a chill ran down her spine.

The seal on the front made her blood run cold.

Her family's crest.

Her hands trembled as she lifted the envelope. "This is from my family," she murmured, her stomach twisting into knots.

A heavy silence settled between them, thick with unspoken fears.

Enzo took a slow step forward, his jaw tight. "Isabella, don't open it."

She tore her gaze from the seal and met his eyes. "You think it's a trap?"

"It could be anything," he said, his voice low and controlled. "A warning. A threat. A trick to lure us out."

Her fingers tightened around the envelope. She knew Enzo was right to be cautious, but there was something about this-something that sent ice-cold dread crawling up her spine. This wasn't a simple threat. This was personal.

"I have to see what's inside," she said firmly.

Before Enzo could stop her, she tore the envelope open, her breath catching as a single photograph slipped out and landed on the table.

The world around her seemed to blur as she picked it up, her fingers trembling.

It was old. The edges were faded, the colors slightly washed out. But the faces-those were unmistakable.

Her heart pounded as she took in the image.

Her father. Enzo's father. Standing side by side. Smiling.

And they weren't alone. Both their families were in the picture, standing together, laughing like old friends. Like allies.

Enzo inhaled sharply beside her. "What the hell is this?"

"This doesn't make sense," Isabella whispered. Her grip on the photo tightened. "They were never on the same side."

Everything she had believed, everything she had been told-was it all a lie?

She looked up at Enzo, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if everything we've been fighting for is a lie?"

The weight of the photograph pressed down on them, heavy with implications they weren't ready to face.

Enzo grabbed the envelope, shaking it, searching for more clues. A small note slipped out, barely the size of a playing card.

One word was scrawled across it.

Basement.

Their eyes met.

Enzo exhaled sharply. "This place has a basement?"

"If it does, we need to see what's down there."

The safehouse had been their refuge for weeks, but they had never questioned its history. Now, it felt like a graveyard of secrets waiting to be unearthed.

The basement door was hidden behind an old wooden shelf. It was small, easy to miss, but when Enzo pushed against it, the door creaked open, revealing a staircase leading into darkness.

"Of course, it's creepy," Isabella muttered, crossing her arms. "Because why wouldn't it be?"

Enzo shot her a smirk. "Want me to go first?"

"Like hell," she shot back, stepping ahead of him. "If there's a trap, I'd rather be the one to set it off."

The further they descended, the colder the air became. The scent of dust and damp paper filled their noses as their flashlights cut through the darkness.

Rows of shelves lined the walls, stacked with boxes, old files, and rusted metal cabinets. But in the center of the room, illuminated by a single overhead bulb, sat a lone table.

And on it-a single file.

Isabella hesitated before reaching for it, her fingers shaking as she flipped it open.

Inside were documents, notes, and-her stomach lurched-more photographs.

"Enzo" Her voice barely made it past her lips.

He stepped closer, his eyes scanning the pages. "These are agreements. Business deals."

"They worked together," Isabella whispered, her blood turning to ice. "All this time, our families weren't enemies. They were partners."

Enzo's fists clenched at his sides. "Then why the hell have we been killing each other?"

She flipped through the pages faster now, desperate for answers. And then she saw it.

One name. Repeated over and over.

A name that should have been buried long ago.

Isabella's breath hitched.

Enzo saw it too, his expression darkening, shadows flickering across his face.

He exhaled slowly, gripping the paper as if it might disappear.

"My father was never just a businessman, was he?"