The world didn’t slow down when chaos erupted—it only got sharper, louder, more brutal in its rhythm. Amelia stood at Enzo’s side, eyes scanning the darkened industrial compound that smelled of oil, rust, and blood-stained secrets. They weren’t running anymore. They were facing it.
Together.
Enzo’s hand tightened around hers as he led her through the shadows. His face was cold steel—emotionless, unreadable to everyone but her. She had learned the language of his silences, the quiet way his thumb brushed against her knuckles told her what his lips didn’t: I’m scared too.
They entered the lower warehouse from the side—no lights, just the whisper of danger crackling in the air. Somewhere inside, men who wanted to destroy Enzo, who wanted to rip apart the foundation of what they’d built, we
