OWNED BY THE ENEMY

Chapter 14 ~ The Escape

Blood pooled around Giovanni’s lifeless body, soaking into the cracks of the concrete floor. The metallic scent filled the air, thick and suffocating.

Elena stared at the corpse, her grip on the dagger tightening. Giovanni Esposito had been one of her father’s most trusted allies. And now, he was dead at Adrian’s feet.

A statement had been made. A warning delivered.

But the gunshot had done something else too.

It had alerted every other guard on the premises.

The distant sound of shouts and hurried footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Adrian’s men tensed, fingers tightening around their weapons. The tension in the air was razor-sharp.

Adrian turned to his men. “We need to move.”

Vincent nodded, pulling a pistol from his holster. “They’ll be coming in hot.”

“Take positions,” Adrian ordered, his voice a deadly whisper. “No survivors.”

Elena’s pulse quickened as she moved with them, her heart pounding so hard it drowned out the sounds of approaching danger.

This is what she had chosen.

To fight.

To betray her father.

To become something else.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. There was no going back. And if she hesitated, she wouldn’t get the chance.

The first shots rang out.

Bullets shattered wooden crates as the warehouse exploded into chaos. Adrian’s men moved like shadows, using the cover of darkness to their advantage. Muzzle flashes lit up the room in bursts, revealing glimpses of bodies falling, blood splattering against the cold concrete.

Elena pressed herself against a stack of wooden pallets, gripping the dagger in her hand. She knew how to fight—her father had ensured that. But she had always fought for him. Now, every muscle in her body screamed at her, warning her that she was betraying everything she had been raised to believe.

A man in a dark suit charged toward her.

Elena had no time to hesitate.

She twisted, using his own momentum against him. The dagger sliced through fabric, meeting flesh. He let out a strangled gasp as he collapsed, his lifeless body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Elena stepped back, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

She had done that.

She had killed before, but this time it was different. This time, she was the one choosing the target.

A gunshot cracked through the air. A bullet whizzed past her shoulder, embedding itself in a metal crate nearby.

Adrian’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “Move!”

She darted forward, following him through the maze of crates as more gunfire erupted around them. Adrian’s men took cover behind large shipping containers, returning fire with deadly accuracy.

Elena could barely think.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she ducked behind a stack of barrels, trying to control her breathing. She wasn’t afraid of the gunfire—she had been around it her entire life.

She was afraid of what came next.

“Stay with me,” Adrian’s voice was in her ear, his hand on her lower back.

She turned to look at him.

He wasn’t scared. His eyes were sharp, determined. There was no hesitation in him, no fear.

Elena swallowed and nodded. “I’m ready.”

He studied her for a brief moment, then smirked. “Let’s go.”

With that, they moved as one.

Adrian led the way, his movements fluid and precise. He shot two more men before they had a chance to react, while Vincent and the others covered their retreat.

A bullet whizzed past them, shattering a wooden crate. Elena flinched as splinters of wood flew past her face. She turned, raising her gun, but before she could pull the trigger, Adrian lunged forward.

He tackled her to the ground just as another bullet struck the space where she had been standing.

“Damn it,” he growled, his body pressing against hers for cover. “You need to stay close.”

Elena turned her head, their faces inches apart. “I had it under control.”

His eyes darkened. “No, you didn’t.”

A loud bang echoed from the back of the warehouse.

Elena twisted her head just in time to see a fireball explode from one of the crates.

One of Adrian’s men had taken out the fuel supply.

The warehouse erupted into chaos. Flames licked at the walls, climbing the wooden beams and turning them into torches. Smoke billowed, thick and choking.

“We need to go!” Vincent shouted, his face slick with sweat.

Adrian grabbed Elena’s wrist. “Move!”

She barely had time to react before he was pulling her toward the exit, gunfire still crackling around them. The metal walls groaned as the fire spread, and the air became thick with smoke.

Elena’s heart pounded.

Not from fear.

But from exhilaration.

They reached the exit just as another explosion shook the ground beneath them. The force sent Elena stumbling, and Adrian caught her, his grip tightening around her arm.

She met his gaze, breathless.

For a moment, time slowed.

Elena had never really looked at him like this before. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes burning with intensity. Smoke curled around them, making his features even sharper. He was a storm—dangerous, unpredictable, and completely consuming.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape him.

“We have to go,” he murmured.

Elena nodded.

They ran.

Behind them, the fire raged, consuming everything in its path. The explosion had thrown the operation into chaos, and by the time her father’s men regrouped, Adrian and his team had already disappeared into the night.

The war had begun.

And Elena had just picked a side.

The silence after the gunfire was deafening.

Elena’s breath came in sharp, rapid bursts as she stood over Giovanni’s lifeless body. Her fingers trembled around the dagger still clutched in her grip, its blade glistening with his blood. Her mind raced, replaying the moment she had plunged it into his throat, the way his eyes had gone wide with shock before dulling into nothingness.

A chill ran down her spine.

She had killed before. She had been trained to. But this time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t for her father. It wasn’t for duty.

This was for her.

For vengeance.

For freedom.

Adrian stepped closer, his presence a dark and steady force beside her. “How do you feel?”

Elena exhaled sharply, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Alive.”

The corner of his lips quirked. “Good.”

A groan from across the room made them both turn. One of Giovanni’s men was still alive, writhing on the ground, clutching a gunshot wound in his leg.

Adrian’s men had begun to move, working efficiently to set charges around the stacks of weapon crates. Vincent was barking orders, his voice sharp, unwavering. The mission wasn’t over yet.

Elena’s pulse steadied. If she was truly on Adrian’s side, if she truly wanted to take her father down, there could be no hesitation.

And she had hesitated.

Adrian had seen it—felt it.

She glanced back at the body of Giovanni, his blood pooling beneath him, the deep red stark against the concrete.

It had taken her seconds longer than it should have. A hesitation she couldn’t afford.

Adrian studied her, then gestured toward the wounded man. “Finish it.”

Elena’s stomach knotted. “You don’t need him?”

“He’ll talk,” Adrian said flatly. “If we let him go, he’ll warn your father before we’re ready.”

She knew he was right.

And yet, she hesitated again.

The man groaned, his eyes filled with fear. He was young—maybe a few years older than her. A soldier, nothing more. Not a mastermind. Not a leader.

She lifted the dagger, but her hand refused to move.

Adrian watched her, silent. Waiting.

This was the moment.

The real test.

Could she do it? Could she take a life without hesitation?

Elena swallowed hard. “He’s not the one I want dead.”

“Then let him go,” Adrian said. “But make no mistake. If you don’t kill him now, he will come back. He will tell your father. He will hunt you.”

Elena clenched her jaw, the weight of the decision pressing down on her like chains.

If she let the man go, it was a risk. If she killed him, she was no longer just betraying her father.

She was becoming something else.

Before she could decide, a single gunshot rang out.

The man slumped forward, a bullet lodged between his eyes.

Elena flinched, her heart slamming into her ribs. She whipped around—

Adrian lowered his gun.

“You hesitated,” he said coolly.

She gaped at him. “I was going to—”

“Were you?” He took a slow, deliberate step toward her. “Because from where I was standing, you were second-guessing yourself.”

Elena’s fists clenched. “I told you I didn’t want to kill him.”

“Then you don’t want revenge badly enough.”

Rage surged inside her.

“You think you get to decide that?” she snapped.

Adrian smirked. “I think if you were ready, you wouldn’t be arguing with me right now.”

Elena’s grip on the dagger tightened. “You want me to be a killer. Like you.”

“I want you to survive,” he corrected. “Your father will come for you, Elena. When that happens, hesitation will get you killed.”

She turned away, frustration and something dangerously close to shame burning in her chest.

She wasn’t weak.

She wasn’t afraid.

Was she?

“Elena.” Adrian’s voice was quiet, almost coaxing. “Look at me.”

She did.

And when she did, something flickered between them.

Something dark.

Something hungry.

“You want to prove yourself?” Adrian murmured, stepping closer.

Elena’s breath hitched. The dagger was still in her hand, slick with Giovanni’s blood.

She looked down at it, then back at Adrian.

For once, he wasn’t pushing her. He was waiting.

Letting her decide.

Elena inhaled sharply, gripping the dagger’s handle.

No turning back.

She lifted her chin. “Then teach me.”

Adrian’s smirk deepened. “Gladly.”

AN HOUR LATER—AFTER THE FIRE

Smoke curled into the night sky, thick and acrid. The warehouse was gone, consumed by flames.

The sound of sirens howled in the distance, growing closer. But by then, Adrian’s men had already cleared out, vanishing into the shadows like they had never been there at all.

Now, it was just Elena and Adrian standing on a rooftop across the street, watching the destruction unfold.

She had done it.

She had helped bring her father’s empire to its knees, striking at the very core of his operation.

Her hands were still covered in blood, but she didn’t feel weak anymore.

She felt power.

Adrian leaned against the edge of the rooftop beside her. “How does it feel?”

Elena exhaled, still staring at the burning warehouse below. “Like I just signed my own death warrant.”

Adrian smirked. “You did. But you also did something no one else has ever dared to do.”

She glanced at him. “And what’s that?”

“You made your father bleed.”

A thrill shot through her. Not from fear, but something else.

Satisfaction.

It didn’t last.

Because suddenly, a phone rang.

Not her phone.

Adrian pulled his own out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

His expression darkened.

“Elena,” he murmured, his voice edged with something new. Something dangerous. “It’s your father.”

Silence.

Elena’s breath caught.

Her heart pounded as she stared at the glowing screen, her father’s name a glaring reminder of what she had done.

What she had just set in motion.

She straightened her spine. “Put him on speaker.”

Adrian raised a brow but obeyed.

“DeLuca,” came the cold, measured voice of her father. “You really have a death wish.”

Adrian’s smirk was audible in his tone. “You sound upset, Romano. I thought this was all part of your plan.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Where is my daughter?”

Elena stepped forward. “You don’t get to ask about me.”

Another pause. A sharp inhale. Then a slow, cruel chuckle.

“Elena,” her father murmured, as if savoring her name. “How lovely to hear your voice.”

Her stomach twisted. “You’re a liar.”

Romano sighed, as if he was the one disappointed in her. “I did what had to be done. You’ll understand that one day.”

“I understand perfectly.” Elena’s fingers dug into her palm. “You don’t care if I live or die. As long as you get what you want.”

Another pause. Then—

“And what do you want, my dear?”

She swallowed the bitter taste in her throat. “To watch you burn.”

For the first time in her life, she heard something unexpected in his voice.

Laughter.

Dark, humorless.

“I should’ve killed you myself,” he mused. “But no matter. If you want war, you’ll have it.”

The line went dead.

Silence fell over the rooftop.

Elena stood there, her breath shallow.

She had done it. She had drawn the line in blood. There was no going back now.

Adrian watched her, his expression unreadable. “Welcome to the war, princess.”

And as the flames of the warehouse crackled below them, Elena realized—

There was no turning back.