Chapter 64

The underground tunnel smelled of damp stone and something metallic-blood, maybe. The flickering emergency lights cast eerie shadows along the walls, making the narrow passage feel even more suffocating. It was the kind of place where secrets were buried, and Isabella couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap.

She didn't like underground spaces-too many ways to get cornered, too few ways to escape. And right now, escape was the only thing keeping them alive.

Enzo and Isabella moved quickly, their boots clicking against the wet stone, their breath coming fast. Their escape had been a disaster so far-gunfire, explosions, and a car chase that ended in a spectacular crash. Frankly, it was a miracle they were still standing.

So when Vincent appeared, promising a way out, Isabella should've been relieved.

She wasn't.

Vincent had always been reliable. He'd been a friend, someone who had Enzo's back since the beginning. But something about him felt off. His expression was too smooth, too controlled. Like a man who already knew how this was going to end.

"I got a route that leads straight to the docks," Vincent whispered, glancing over his shoulder. Too casual. "We can disappear before Moretti's men catch up."

Enzo nodded, gripping Isabella's wrist as they followed him deeper into the tunnel. His grip was firm, protective-but Isabella could feel the tension in his fingers. He didn't trust this either.

The deeper they went, the stronger her instincts screamed.

Something wasn't right.

And then-she saw it.

A flicker of movement. Vincent's hand sliding toward something in his coat.

A weapon.

Her stomach lurched.

"Enzo-" she started, but she was a second too late.

The knife flashed in the dim light, slashing toward Enzo's chest.

Enzo reacted on pure instinct, twisting away, but the blade still caught his arm. Blood seeped through his sleeve, dark and slick.

Damn it.

Enzo stumbled back, his face twisting in anger. "Damn it, Vincent!" he growled. "What the hell are you doing?"

Vincent's eyes were cold. "Sorry, old friend. But Moretti made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

Isabella didn't hesitate.

She reached for her gun-

But Vincent lunged.

A struggle. A shout. The tunnel echoed with the sharp clang of the knife dropping to the ground.

Isabella fired.

BANG.

Silence.

The sound of someone falling.

But who?

The snowstorm howled around them, icy wind whipping against Isabella's face as she and Enzo staggered onto the rooftop.

Below, the city lights shimmered, their glow mocking her. Taunting them with the unreachable safety of the streets.

Her chest still heaved from the betrayal. Vincent was dead. She had fired. She had pulled the trigger without thinking, without hesitation.

And she didn't regret it.

But now? Now they were trapped.

Moretti's men were already forcing their way onto the rooftop. Their boots crunched against the fresh snow, the weight of their presence pressing down on Isabella like a physical force.

She turned to Enzo. They had no way down. No way out.

Seven stories.

Seven stories between them and the cold, unforgiving ground below.

"We're out of options," Isabella murmured, her fingers tightening around her gun.

Enzo turned to her, his breath visible in the freezing air.

His dark eyes held something unreadable.

Not fear. Not panic.

Something else.

Trust.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Isabella blinked. "What?"

His lips quirked, a small smirk despite the chaos.

"Simple question, Bella."

She barely had time to react.

Because before she could answer-

He grabbed her hand.

And jumped.

The impact never came.

Instead-

They landed hard.

Not on concrete.

Not on the pavement.

But on something metallic and fast-moving.

A train.

A speeding train.

Isabella's breath hitched.

Her entire body ached from the landing. Every bone screamed in protest.

She turned her head, her pulse pounding in her ears.

And there was Enzo, lying beside her, smirking.

Smirking.

An absolute lunatic.

"Told you to trust me," he panted, shaking off the pain.

Isabella's jaw clenched. "Enzo, I swear to-"

BANG.

A gunshot cut her off.

Moretti's men.

They were already on the train.

Enzo pulled her to cover as bullets ricocheted off the metal, sparks flying into the wind.

The train roared through the city, speeding past buildings and empty streets. The wind whipped through the open doors, howling as if it could sense the danger.

"We're running out of space to run!" Isabella yelled.

Enzo gritted his teeth. "Then we don't run. We fight."

Just as the first enemy lunged-

Something unexpected happened.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, moving with deadly precision.

Two perfect shots.

Moretti's men dropped like stones.

Isabella blinked.

Who the hell-?

The woman lowered her gun, her lips curling into a smirk.

Enzo froze.

Isabella saw it-the way his body stiffened. The way his expression shifted.

Like he had just seen a ghost.

And then, the woman spoke.

Sophia.

The name felt like a curse in Isabella's ears.

The woman tilted her head, her eyes gleaming.

"Miss me, Enzo?"

Isabella's stomach twisted.

She already didn't like her.