Chapter 78

The underground hideout was exactly what they had expected. Cold, damp, and dark, with the faint smell of mildew filling the air. The place looked abandoned, but Isabella wasn't fooled. She had learned long ago that the worst places were often the most dangerous. Enzo walked behind her, his footsteps echoing in the silence, his eyes scanning every corner, every crack in the walls. They had to be careful-there was no room for mistakes here.

The tip they had gotten wasn't clear, but it had promised them one thing: there were records down here. Records that could reveal the mole within their circle. And with every minute that passed, the pressure mounted. Time was running out. The enemy was still out there, watching them, waiting for them to slip up.

Isabella moved with purpose, her eyes never leaving the shadows, her hand on her weapon. Enzo was right behind her, keeping close, but not too close. They needed space to move, to react quickly if anything went wrong. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy. Too much had happened in too little time, and neither of them knew who they could trust anymore.

The sound of a faint clicking noise echoed from somewhere deep within the hideout. Enzo froze, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward Isabella. Her face was serious, and she was already holding up her hand, signaling him to stop. She hadn't heard it, but she had felt it-something wasn't right.

"What was that?" Enzo whispered, his voice low.

Isabella shook her head slightly. "I don't know. But we need to move carefully."

They continued forward, their footsteps slow and deliberate now. The place was eerily quiet, but Isabella had learned to trust her instincts. Something wasn't right here, and it wasn't just the silence. There was a pressure in the air, as if they were walking straight into a trap.

And then the sound came again-the faint click of a switch being pressed. Enzo's heart skipped a beat. He had been in enough situations like this to know exactly what it meant.

The timer started. A low, steady beeping filled the air. The sound grew louder as it echoed off the walls. Enzo's pulse quickened. His eyes snapped to Isabella, but she was already moving toward the door they had come through.

"Shit," Enzo muttered under his breath. "This place is rigged."

Isabella's eyes widened as she looked around them. "We need to get out, Enzo."

But they both knew it was too late. The place was a trap, and they had walked right into it. The timer continued to tick down, its countdown steady and unforgiving.

00:30 00:29

The seconds were slipping away faster than they could react, and with each passing moment, the danger grew.

"Come on," Enzo growled, grabbing Isabella's arm and pulling her toward the back of the building. "We can't waste any more time."

But no matter how fast they moved, the countdown never slowed. It just kept ticking, ticking, ticking, growing louder with each passing second.

The walls felt like they were closing in around them, the air heavy with the smell of gunpowder and tension. There was no turning back now. They had to get out. There was no other choice.

But as they reached the hallway, Enzo heard a loud thud from behind them. He spun around, his hand flying to his weapon as his heart raced. The beeping was getting faster now.

"Move!" Isabella shouted, pulling on Enzo's arm, forcing him forward.

They were running now, their footsteps a blur of frantic energy as they tried to outrun the ticking timer. The building seemed to stretch on forever, and just as Enzo thought they were close, the walls around them shook with a violent force. The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and a loud explosion sent them both tumbling forward, crashing to the ground in a heap of dust and debris.

The world around them was a blur of smoke and fire, the air thick with the smell of burning metal. Enzo scrambled to his feet, his ears ringing. Isabella was still on the ground, but she was already pushing herself up, her eyes wide with panic.

"Isabella!" Enzo shouted, his voice breaking through the chaos. He ran to her side, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to her feet.

"We have to go," he said, his voice gruff. "Now!"

They didn't waste a second. They were almost out, just a few more steps, when the ground shook beneath them once more. Enzo turned, his eyes falling on the wreckage behind them. Flames were licking at the air, the explosion having consumed everything in its path.

The hideout was gone, completely destroyed. But there, among the debris, Enzo saw something that made his heart stop.

A photo.

He rushed toward it, his hands shaking as he bent down to pick it up. The edges were singed, but the faces were still clear.

It was a picture of his father. Standing side by side with the enemy leader. Enzo's mind went blank. He stared at the photo in disbelief. His father had known the enemy? Had worked with them?

"No" Enzo whispered under his breath. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

The image of his father, standing with the man they had been hunting for months, twisted something deep inside Enzo. His world suddenly felt smaller, colder, as if the ground beneath him had shifted.

Enzo's mind raced, but his focus was sharp. They couldn't afford to lose time, not now. He turned to Isabella, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

"We need to get answers," he said, his voice tight with urgency.

Isabella nodded, still coughing as she wiped the dust from her face. "But how? This explosion... it changes everything."

Enzo didn't have an answer. He didn't even know where to begin. Everything was falling apart, and his trust in everyone-his father included-was slipping through his fingers. But he couldn't let himself fall apart. Not now.

"We'll figure it out," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "We always do."

They stumbled out of the wreckage, their bodies battered and bruised, but still alive. The night was quiet now, the distant sounds of sirens and the crackling of the flames their only company. They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

But Enzo's thoughts kept drifting back to that photo. His father... working with the enemy. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything he thought he knew had been a lie.

As they moved through the darkness, the only sound was their footsteps. They didn't speak, but there was an understanding between them. They were both lost, searching for something-anything-that would make sense of all this.

The only option left was to go to the informant. The man who had once worked with Enzo's father. He was old, retired, and had vanished off the radar years ago. But Enzo had a lead-a vague, uncertain lead. And now, they were following it.

It didn't take long to find the informant's hideout. The small cabin in the middle of nowhere looked like it had been abandoned for years. But there was something wrong. The door was slightly ajar, the air thick with a sense of unease.

"Stay alert," Enzo warned as he pushed the door open, his gun drawn. "Something's not right."

Inside, the place was a mess. Furniture was overturned, papers scattered across the floor. The informant wasn't in sight. But then they found him. His body was sprawled across the table, his eyes wide and vacant, his last breath already taken.

Enzo felt his stomach twist. This wasn't just a random death. Someone had been trying to cover something up.

But as he examined the room, his gaze fell on something. Carved into the table was a message.

"The King never dies."

Isabella gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "That's what the traitor whispered before he died," she said softly, her eyes wide with shock.

Enzo's heart raced as he looked at the message. The King... What did it mean? And why did it feel like they were getting closer to something far bigger than they had ever imagined?

He didn't know, but he was going to find out. No matter what it took.