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Crossfires of fate

Author: Sally DESIRE
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-25 15:27:46

Enzo’s POV

The stillness that follows the combat is deafening. The air stinks of blood and perspiration, the metallic taste mixed with the dust that still clings in the room. Every muscle in my body screams in protest, yet I push myself to stay on my feet. Isabella is by my side, her chest rising and falling with strained breaths. She’s alive. That’s all that matters.

“We need to move,” Vincent adds, his voice breaking through the fuzz. He’s drenched in blood, some of it his, yet his eyes remain piercing and unrelenting. “They’ll send reinforcements.”

I nod, the weight of his words sinking in my chest. He’s right. We can’t remain here. But every stride seems like a thousand. My body is a tangle of bruises and scrapes, and each breath is a reminder of how close we were to losing everything.

“Can you walk?” I ask Isabella, my voice scratchy.

She nods, her eyes catching mine. “I’m not the one you should be worrying about.”

“Too late for that,” I respond, a ghost of a sm
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  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    Masks unveiled

    Isabella's POVThe room feels like it’s closing in, the flickering light throwing long, jagged shadows that dance around the walls. My heart pounds in my chest, each pulse louder than the previous. The masked person stands in the center, their presence smothering. I can’t pull my eyes away from them. There’s something familiar about the way they carry themselves, the way they tilt their head. But it doesn’t make sense. “Who are you?” I demand, my voice booming across the room. The firearm in my palm feels heavy, my grasp wet with sweat. The figure doesn’t answer. Instead, they take a step closer, their moves deliberate. I push myself to maintain my ground, to not give in to the panic clawing at my chest. Enzo stands by my side, his mouth locked, every muscle in his body rigid. Vincent goes to surround the figure, his gaze furrowed. “Talk,” Enzo growls, his voice low and deadly. “Or I’ll make you.” The figure laughs—a chilly, hollow sound that sends a shudder down my sp

  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    Whispers of betrayal

    Isabella's POVThe metallic taste of blood fills my lips, and every breath seems like a blade slashing through my lungs. My vision fades, the dim light of the warehouse creating jagged shadows on the walls. But I can’t stop. Not now. Not with Enzo and Vincent by my side, fighting for every precious second of life. “You’re surrounded!” The voice shouts through the darkness, cold and disconnected. I can’t locate it, but I know it's sort—the kind that revels in power and misery. “Show yourself!” I yell, my voice harsh. The exertion sends a surge of anguish through my chest, but I swallow it down. “Coward!” Laughter echoes, cold and terrible. “You really think you can change anything? That you can win?” Beside me, Enzo’s jaw tightens, his eyes burning with rage. “Ignore him,” he adds, his voice low yet forceful. “He wants to rattle us.” “It’s working,” I acknowledge, my fingers clenching around the firearm in my grasp. I can feel the quiver in my hands, the worry hiding

  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    Crossfires of fate

    Enzo’s POVThe stillness that follows the combat is deafening. The air stinks of blood and perspiration, the metallic taste mixed with the dust that still clings in the room. Every muscle in my body screams in protest, yet I push myself to stay on my feet. Isabella is by my side, her chest rising and falling with strained breaths. She’s alive. That’s all that matters. “We need to move,” Vincent adds, his voice breaking through the fuzz. He’s drenched in blood, some of it his, yet his eyes remain piercing and unrelenting. “They’ll send reinforcements.” I nod, the weight of his words sinking in my chest. He’s right. We can’t remain here. But every stride seems like a thousand. My body is a tangle of bruises and scrapes, and each breath is a reminder of how close we were to losing everything. “Can you walk?” I ask Isabella, my voice scratchy. She nods, her eyes catching mine. “I’m not the one you should be worrying about.” “Too late for that,” I respond, a ghost of a sm

  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    Shadows and promises

    Isabella's POVThe air outside the safe house is frigid, piercing through my ripped garments and sinking deep in my bones. I tighten my grasp on Enzo, feeling every shudder that rushes through his body. He’s barely standing, his breathing short, yet he refuses to let me carry the whole weight. Typical. Stubborn until the end. “Lean on me,” I gasp, my voice trembling. “Please.” “I’m fine,” he spits out, his face pallid but resolute. “Just… a few more steps.” “Liar,” I snap, but there’s no fire behind it. Only dread. The sort that holds your chest and won’t let go. “You’re not fine.” He attempts to grin, but it seems more like a grimace. “Still… breathing.” “Not good enough,” I responded, trying my voice to keep calm. “You have to do better than that.” He doesn’t answer, but his grasp tightens. It’s enough. We keep advancing, every step a struggle against gravity and tiredness. The shadows feel alive, crowding in from all sides. Vincent’s absence is like a dagger i

  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    The weight of blood

    Isabella's POVThe world blurs around me, a wild combination of screaming, gunfire, and flashing lights. Enzo’s weight feels heavy in my arms, his breath raspy and faint. Blood soaks through my palms, warm and persistent, and terror grips at my chest. This can’t be happening. Not again. “Stay with me,” I murmur, my voice shaking. “You promised.” His eyes twitch, and for a minute, I glimpse a spark of recognition. “I’m… here,” he whispers, the words scarcely audible. “Good,” I answer, attempting a grin that seems more like a grimace. “Then keep fighting.” The firing escalates, bullets ricocheting off the disintegrating buildings surrounding us. Vincent is a whirl of action, his every move precise and lethal. He’s holding them off—for now. But I can see it in his eyes. We’re running out of time. “We need to move,” Vincent cries, his voice piercing through the commotion. “Now!” “I can’t carry him,” I snap back, desperation coloring my words. “Not like this.” “Then we

  • SOLD TO THE MAFIA HEIR    Fractured promises

    Enzo’s POVPain is my daily companion. Every breath, every movement feels like a dagger twisting in my chest, yet I fight myself to stay awake. The world blurs at the edges, the gloomy interior of the truck swirling around me. Isabella sits across from me, her face pallid and smeared with blood. Her eyes are asleep, but her hand is curled around mine, a lifeline I’m not ready to let go of. “Almost there,” Vincent replies from the front, his voice strained. I can hear the stress in every phrase, the weight of what we’ve just fled weighing down on all of us. The city lights flash by, a whirlwind of color and turmoil. We’re going too quickly, but I know it’s the only way. We have to remain ahead of them. Isabella stirs, her grip tightening. “Enzo,” she murmurs, her voice faint but resolute. “Don’t… don’t close your eyes.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, feigning a grin. It feels empty. “You’re stuck with me.” She attempts to chuckle, but it turns into a cough, her body

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