All Chapters of The Debt of Passion: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

A gunshot shattered the pulse of the club. For a split second, everything froze—the music, the movement, the conversations. Then, chaos erupted. Patrons screamed, some ducking for cover, others scrambling toward the exits. Isabella felt Lorenzo’s men close in around her, their presence an unspoken shield as they scanned the room for the shooter. “Move,” one of them barked, gripping her arm as he tried to usher her toward the back. But Isabella wasn’t ready to leave. Her eyes darted toward where the shot had come from, her heart pounding. No body. No blood. Just the lingering scent of gunpowder in the air. Whoever fired that shot wasn’t aiming to kill. It was a message. Lorenzo stormed forward, his fury palpable. His men were already working to secure the area, but Isabella wasn’t concerned about the club’s safety—she was concerned about herself. Something glinted on the floor near the bar, just a few feet away from where the shot had been fired. While Lorenzo barked orders,

The drive back to Lorenzo’s estate was tense. Isabella could feel the weight of his gaze on her, the frustration radiating off him in waves. The silence between them wasn’t just thick—it was suffocating. She had known sneaking off alone was risky, but she didn’t expect to be ambushed. She didn’t expect Lorenzo to show up either, nor for him to be this angry. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, Lorenzo killed the engine and turned to her. “Inside. Now.” His voice was low, controlled, but it sent a shiver down her spine. Isabella hesitated for a second, then stepped out, adjusting her dress as she walked up the steps. Lorenzo’s men followed closely behind, and the moment the door shut, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to face him. “Are you out of your damn mind?” he hissed. “I had it under control,” she shot back. “The hell you did.” His jaw clenched. “Going off alone, meeting some unknown source, and nearly getting killed in the process? That’s what you call control?”

The tension in the house was palpable. The glow of security screens illuminated the room as Lorenzo’s men combed through hours of footage, searching for any sign of the intruder. The attack had come too close—again. Isabella sat at the edge of the couch, arms crossed, her mind racing. The text message, the lights cutting out, and the eerie feeling that someone had been inside. It all pointed to one thing—whoever was behind this wasn’t some outsider lurking in the shadows. They were close. Too close. Lorenzo stood with his back to her, speaking in hushed tones with two of his men. His stance was tense, his shoulders squared, and every once in a while, she caught him glancing her way, his jaw clenched tight. He was angry. She exhaled sharply. “You can just say it,” she muttered. Lorenzo turned, his brow arching. “Say what?” “That I shouldn’t have been alone. That this wouldn’t have happened if I’d been more careful.” His expression darkened. “You think this is about me blaming y

The house had finally quieted after the chaos of the previous nights. In the early hours before dawn, a tense calm settled over the estate—a temporary lull in the storm of threats, secrets, and violence. Isabella sat in the study, the soft glow of a single desk lamp illuminating her thoughtful face. Her mind replayed every cryptic message, every shadow that had flitted past her, and every hint of a traitor from within. Yet, even amid the tension, a different kind of warmth began to stir—a subtle, unexpected longing that she couldn’t quite ignore. Lorenzo entered quietly, his presence immediately commanding the room. His eyes, dark and unwavering, rested on her as though trying to decipher the turmoil inside. For a long moment, no words were exchanged; instead, the silence spoke volumes of shared secrets and unspoken worries. “You’ve been restless,” he finally said, his voice low and measured. Isabella looked up, forcing a small smile despite the heaviness in her chest. “Restlessne

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Lorenzo stood near the window, fingers curled into his palm as he listened to his men report back. Isabella sat on the couch, watching his every move, the weight of the past few days pressing on her. “They’re holed up in an abandoned warehouse by the docks,” one of his men reported. “If we move now, we can catch them before they disappear.” Lorenzo exhaled, his jaw clenching as he made his decision. “We go in, no mistakes.” Isabella pushed off the couch. “I’m coming with you.” Lorenzo barely spared her a glance. “No, you’re not.” She stepped closer, her voice unwavering. “I’ve been the one getting these threats, Lorenzo. I deserve to know who’s behind this.” His gaze snapped to hers, dark and unyielding. “You’re not trained for this. It’s too dangerous.” “I wasn’t trained to be kidnapped either, but that didn’t stop it from happening.” She folded her arms, daring him to argue. Lorenzo sighed, dragging a hand through