CH-17

CH-17
Isabella POV

The chamber feels like a tomb—silent, suffocating, and thick with the stench of ancient secrets. The cold stone walls rise around us like sentinels, dripping with moisture and menace. Every breath I take feels stolen, every second borrowed. Shadows stretch long and lean, curling like fingers around my ankles, whispering promises of death and betrayal.
Selene’s laughter still echoes in my mind. That sound—inhuman, serpentine—claws down my spine. I see her in flashes: the glint of her blade, the black ink coiling like smoke on the altar, the way her eyes held no soul when she said “Blood will end them.”

I clutch Aria tighter against me, cradling her like something precious and breakable. Her body is limp, skin chalk-pale, but her chest still rises in shallow rhythm. I press my hand to her sternum, willing it to keep moving. Her lips twitch, trying to form words that refuse to come.
Her eyes flutter open, and for the briefest moment, I see the child she must’ve once been—afraid, alone, searching for something she never received. My heart twists.
“We have to get out of here,” I whisper, the words cracked with urgency.

A shape detaches from the gloom. Veritas steps forward—silent, unreadable. His face is stone, but I catch it… a flicker of something human. Guilt. Regret. But beneath that, calculation. Always calculating.
He surveys Aria but doesn’t kneel, doesn’t flinch. “Selene’s forces are mobilizing,” he says curtly. “If we’re here when they come, we’re dead.”
“And what?” I snap. “We run again? Let her win by default?”
He doesn’t blink. “If you die here, Isabella, she wins anyway.”
I glance down at Aria—my sister, my twin in flesh if not in fate. Her features are mine but warped by pain and survival. What Selene did to her… what she made her believe…
“We can’t let her win,” I say again, more to myself than anyone else.
“No,” Veritas agrees. “But they’re better trained, better armed. We’ll have to be unpredictable. Guerilla tactics. Psychological warfare. Think like her.”

Footsteps echo behind me. Dante emerges from the corridor, moving with lethal grace. His presence steadies me in a way I resent and crave. His eyes find Aria first, then me, locking onto the fear I try not to show.
There’s fire in his gaze—apology, fury, protectiveness. And something else: love, unspoken and dangerous.
“We fight differently now,” he says, voice low and razor-sharp. “Selene wants a war. She’s baiting us into another frontal attack. We won’t give it to her.”
“What then?” I demand. “Let her pick us off one by one?”

He steps closer. “We dismantle her empire piece by piece. Smugglers. Money lines. Lieutenants. We turn her own people against her. Starve her until she has nothing left but her magic.”
My throat tightens. “And allies?”
Dante doesn’t hesitate. “The Volkovs. We’re already in talks. Weapons, vehicles, access to their hidden routes through the ports.”
I feel bile rise in my throat. “The Russians? You trust them?”
“I don’t. But I trust desperation. They want Selene gone as much as we do.”
I hesitate. Everything inside me screams trap, but I also know we’re running out of time. Selene’s already cracked our armor. If we don’t move now, she’ll break everything.
“We do this,” I say, nodding. “But we do it my way. I want control. I want eyes on every corner of this city.”

Dante dips his head. “Then you’ll have them.”
Silence settles like dust. Aria shifts in my arms, her lashes fluttering. I press a kiss to her temple.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur. “I swear it. You’re not her puppet anymore.”
She stirs, her lips parting as though she hears me.

And then—

BANG.

The chamber door slams open, ricocheting off the stone like a thunderclap.
I barely have time to stand before they pour in—masked figures, armored, merciless.

Selene’s elite. Her loyal. Her brainwashed.
Dante’s gun is in his hand before I blink. He shoves Aria behind us, stepping into position with brutal efficiency.

“Get ready!” he barks.
The chamber explodes into chaos. Muzzle flashes light up the room like lightning.

Gunfire thunders.

Screams echo off the stone as bodies drop around us.
I move on instinct. Every lesson, every scar, every moment of pain fuels my rage.

I duck, roll, drive my elbow into a masked face. Blood sprays. I spin, disarm, stab.

Someone lunges at Aria. A flash of silver—a knife.
I don’t think. I move.
I intercept the attacker, catching their arm mid-swing. The blade slices across my forearm, pain flaring hot, but I don’t let go.
“Not her,” I growl. “Not again.”

I slam the assailant’s head against the wall until they crumple. Blood spatters the floor.
Beside me, Veritas appears like a ghost. His suit is torn, his face bloodied, but he’s still fighting.

His blade dances like a serpent, quick and lethal.
“She’s not the only one hiding secrets,” he mutters. “Selene’s been planning this for years.

She’s always been three steps ahead.”
Before I can ask what the hell he means, a new shadow peels itself from the wall.
A figure.
Someone familiar.

Someone I trusted.

My heart stutters. Rage floods my veins.
“You?” I hiss.
The figure smirks, mask half-lifted, revealing a face I once called friend.
“You never saw it coming,” they whisper.

The betrayal slashes deeper than the blade on my arm.
Allies. Enemies. Mirrors. It’s all blurring now. This war isn’t just fought in blood. It’s fought in hearts—rotten or loyal.

I don’t know who to trust anymore.
I glance at Aria again—she’s pale but watching. Stronger than she looks.
Selene’s voice rises in my ears like smoke from a pyre:

“This is only the beginning, Isabella. Your blood will be the last to stain these halls.”

I grip my weapon tighter. That may be her prophecy. But I’ll carve my own.

For my mother.

For my legacy.

For every sister she tried to twist.

The noise swells—gunfire, screams, the crackle of dying torches—until suddenly, one sound cuts through it all:

A single gunshot. Close. Deafening. Final.

Aria gasps. Her eyes fly wide, her body arching.

And then—

She collapses into my arms.

Blood blooms across her blouse like a spreading rose.

“No—no no no—” I scream, cradling her as the chaos melts into a deafening silence around me.

My hands are slick with her blood. My soul fractures.

And in the shadows, someone was watching.