Chapter 185 The Final Moment 2

Chapter 185 The Final Moment 2

Luca’s grip tightened around Isabella’s hair, forcing her head back until her neck screamed in protest. He was now focused back to Isabella

The cold mouth of the gun pressed harder against her temple.“Drop the gun,” Luca said to Dante and Matteo. voice unnervingly calm.

When they had done it, Luca told Dante “Kill yourself, Dante. Right here or I pull the trigger and paint the wall with her blood.”

The words sliced through the air like a blade.

“Don’t—!” Isabella’s voice broke as she struggled against him. “Dante, don’t listen to him! Please… please don’t.”

Her eyes were locked on Dante’s, wide and wet, filled with a terror that clawed straight into his chest.

She shook her head violently, tears spilling down her bruised cheeks. “I don’t care what happens to me,” she sobbed. “Just don’t do it. Don’t—”

The gun struck her.

The sound of metal against flesh echoed sharply as Luca slammed the gun into her face.

Isabella cried out, her body folding slightly as blood spilled from the corner of her mouth.

“Luca!” Dante roared. “Don't you dare touch her.”

“Another word,” Luca snarled, shoving the gun harder against Isabella’s head, “and she dies.”

Time seemed to slow.

Dante’s chest heaved as he stared at his brother, the boy he had once carried on his shoulders, the man he had protected with his own life now standing before him as a monster.

Dante bent and picked up the gun from the floor.

Isabella screamed.

“No! Dante, please!” Her voice cracked. “I’m begging you, don’t do this! I can’t—”

Luca laughed, sharp and unhinged. “That’s it. Be a good brother for once.”

Dante raised the gun.

Matteo’s heart slammed violently against his ribs.

He saw it all unfold in a heartbeat.

Matteo snapped. “You’re a fool!”

His voice ripped through the tension like a gunshot.

De Luca turned sharply toward him. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re a fool,” Matteo repeated loudly. “You really think Luca will let you live after this? After he gets what he wants?”

Luca’s head jerked toward De Luca. “Shut up, Matteo.”
Matteo laughed bitterly. “You’re being used. Can’t you see it? He’s using you the same way he used everyone else. Once Dante is dead and Isabella is gone, what use do you think you’ll be to him?”

De Luca’s eyes narrowed. Suspicion flickered across his face. “Is that true?” he demanded, turning toward Luca. “You didn’t say anything about this.”

Luca snarled, his control slipping. “Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to—”

“Am I?” Matteo shot back. “Ask him what happens next.”

The warehouse erupted into shouting.

Luca suddenly scoffed out. “You were always disposable!”

In that split second, Dante moved, his eyes met Isabella’s.

He gave her a small nod. Now.

Isabella didn’t think. She obeyed on instinct, dropping her head and twisting her body sideways—

Two gunshots rang out at the exact same moment.

Bang.
Bang.

Luca screamed as Dante’s bullet tore through his hand, shattering bone and sending the gun flying from his grip. He staggered back, clutching his wrist in agony.

While De Luca’s eyes widened in shock as the bullet slammed into his chest, just off-center.

The force sent him stumbling backward, his gun clattering uselessly to the floor as blood bloomed rapidly across his shirt.

Isabella broke free and ran.

She ran straight into Dante’s arms.

He caught her tightly, crushing her against his chest as if letting go would kill him.

His hands trembled as he cupped her face, checking her injuries frantically, his forehead resting against hers.

“I’m here,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Isabella sobbed, clutching his shirt with both hands, burying her face into him.

Behind them, Matteo was already moving.

He sprinted to Sofia, dropping to his knees beside her, his hands gentle but urgent as he untied her.

“Sofia,” he murmured, his voice shaking despite his control. “Look at me. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She nodded weakly, tears streaming down her face as he pulled her into his arms, shielding her body with his own as gunfire echoed around them.

Dante’s men flooded the warehouse, securing the perimeter, disarming Luca’s remaining men, shouting commands, boots pounding against concrete.

Valentina’s sobs echoed through the warehouse, ragged and desperate, her body slumping against the cold concrete.

She clawed weakly at the floor, at, to anything that might save her.

“Someone… help me…” she croaked, her voice shaking with a mix of terror and disbelief.

Her eyes darted wildly, settling on Dante for a brief, pleading moment.

Dante’s gaze landed on her, sharp and unyielding. He didn’t flinch.

His jaw was tight, his expression carved from stone.

Isabella’s hand found his arm as they stepped forward, watching Valentina writhe.

“Do you think she deserves mercy?” Dante asked Isabella.

Isabella didn’t hesitate.

She shook her head firmly, her eyes cold but steady.

“No,” she said softly, almost reverently, as if acknowledging the weight of justice.

Dante gave a small, approving nod. He signaled to his men with a flick of his wrist, calm but absolute.

“Take care of her,” he told them.

Valentina’s eyes widened in horror, realizing the finality of her situation.

She shrieked, the sound tearing through the chaos of the warehouse, but no one came to her aid.

Isabella and Dante turned to leave.

Behind them, Valentina’s screams dwindled as Dante’s elite moved swiftly and efficiently, ensuring there would be no further threat from her.

The warehouse fell into tense silence.

Dante didn’t speak. He walked with Isabella, their hands brushing slightly.

When they got outside, Dante looked at Isabella. “Wait here, I will be right back.”

“Why?” Isabella questioned him, afraid to let him go.

“I will be right back, I promise.” He reassured her. “I want to sort something out.”