The storm hadn't stopped.
Rain lashed against the glass walls of the penthouse, each drop echoing like a ticking clock.
Somewhere below, the city burned in silence muted by distance, secrets hidden under the moon light.
Damian stood by the window, shirt half undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms. The storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside him.
He'd spent the night replaying Antonio's words: the sneer, the challenge, the haunting certainty that Isabella would always belong to the man who gave her life.
He hated that it got under his skin.
He hated more that it made him doubt what they were becoming.
Behind him, soft footsteps broke the silence.
"Are you going to tell me what you're planning?" Isabella's voice was quiet, but sharp enough to slice through the room's tension.
Damian didn't turn. "You shouldn't be here."
"Then why did you send Luca to bring me?" she shot back. "You can't cage me one moment and push me away the next."
He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "You don't understand, Isabella. There's a war coming and you're standing in the center of it."
Her arms folded. "Then move me out of it."
That made him turn, slowly.
His gaze pinned on her where she stood, a mix of exhaustion, hunger, and something darker flickering in his eyes.
"I can't," he said finally. "You're the only thing keeping me from burning this city to ash."
Her breath caught from the word he just said to her.
The stormlight flickered across his face, outlining every sharp line and every fracture in his control.
"Then stop pretending you don't care," she whispered.
He moved toward her, slow and deliberate. "You think that's what this is?
Pretending..?"
When he stopped just in front of her, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the restrained violence, the need.
Her pulse thudded in her throat.
"You terrify me," she murmured, eyes lifting to meet him.
Damian's lips brushed her forehead. "Good," he said softly, the same words he'd once whispered in the library. "Because fear means you understand."
She swallowed hard. "Understand what?"
His thumb traced the edge of her jaw, slow, possessive. "That you belong to me."
She should've pushed him away.
She should've reminded him that belonging and loving weren't the same.
But instead she closed the distance.
She couldn't move because she wanted him too but.. and he caught her by surprise.
His mouth met hers, rough and desperate, like he'd been holding back a storm.
Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, drinking in everything she swore she'd never want.
It wasn't gentle, it was war dressed as a kiss.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
For a heartbeat, the world was still.
Then boom.
The sound shattered the glass above them.
Bullets tore through the window, raining shards like falling stars.
Damian moved instinctively, grabbing her and dragging her behind the steel column as the penthouse erupted in chaos.
"Down!" he barked.
Guards stormed in, guns drawn. Luca was the first through the door, his shirt soaked from the rain. "Roof snipers," he shouted over the comms. "We've got two down already!"
"Get her to the safe wing!" Damian ordered.
"No!" Isabella gripped his arm. "You'll be killed…."
"Do it, Luca!" Damian roared.
Luca didn't hesitate. He grabbed Isabella's wrist and pulled her toward the hallway, dodging falling glass and bullets that sparked off marble.
"Luca!" she screamed as the sound of more gunfire erupted behind them.
Damian was out of sight, only flashes of movement and the echo of violence remained.
Her heart felt like it was being ripped in half.
Luca pushed open a steel door and gestured, her inside a hidden corridor. "Stay here. Don't open the door for anyone but me or Damian."
He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm. "Please… bring him back."
Luca's expression softened just for a moment. "You don't have to ask me twice."
And then he was gone, the door slamming shut between them.
The gunfire faded to a distant roar, leaving Isabella alone in the silence, shaking, staring at her reflection in the glass of the locked door, her own terrified eyes staring back.
Somewhere in that chaos above her, Damian was bleeding for her.
And for the first time, she realized something that terrified her more than the bullets, more than her father, more than everything.
She'd fallen in love with the man she was supposed to fear.
The air reeked of gunpowder and rain.
Damian crouched behind the overturned table, the glass crunching under his boots.
His blood thudded in his ears, fast and violent. He reloaded his pistol, chambered a round, and leaned just far enough to glimpse the shattered windows.
"Positions?" he barked.
"Two on the east roof," a guard's voice came through the comm. "Another in the north stairwell inside the perimeter!"
Inside.
Damian's jaw tightened. That meant someone had given them access.
A traitor.
He moved like a shadow swift, silent, merciless.
A sniper's bullet split the air, grazing his shoulder. He didn't flinch.
Instead, he fired twice, the silencer spitting soft, the deadly whispers. Then a body fell. One down.
Another burst of gunfire echoed from the hallway, Luca's voice shouting orders.
Damian's instincts screamed: Isabella.
He pushed through the smoke and rain-slick marble, his pulse hammering like a war drum.
His shirt clung to his skin, streaked with blood that wasn't all his.
The moment he reached the corridor, a shadow moved a figure in black, gun raised.
Damian shot first. The man dropped without a sound.
"Talk," Damian growled, grabbing the dying man by the collar.
The man's lips curled in a half-smile, blood staining his teeth. "You can't save her… not from him."
"Who?" Damian demanded.
But the man's eyes rolled back, his final breath escaping as rain poured through the shattered ceiling.
Not from him.
The words dug deep. Damian knew exactly who the assassin meant.
Antonio.. or was it ?
His pulse darkened with rage. "You want war, old man," he muttered under his breath. "You just declared it."
He shoved the body aside and sprinted down the narrow hall toward the safe corridor.
His shoulder burned, blood dripping down his arm, but the pain was distant secondary to the fear clawing inside him.
When he slammed through the steel door, Isabella turned toward him, her face pale, eyes wide.
"Damian!"
She ran to him before she could stop herself, her hands gripping his blood-soaked shirt. "You're hurt"
"It's nothing," he said, though the crimson stain betrayed him. "Are you all right?"
She nodded shakily. "Luca locked the door he said not to.."
The door burst open again.
Luca stumbled through, gun smoking, his face streaked with grime. "All clear. For now."
He glanced at Damian's shoulder. "You need stitches."
"Later," Damian snapped. "What about the roof?"
"Two bodies. But one escaped; through the north sector."
"Find him," Damian ordered. His voice was ice. "I want him alive."
Luca hesitated. "Damian.."
"Alive, Luca."
Luca's jaw tightened, but he nodded and disappeared into the corridor.
Silence fell.
Isabella stood frozen, her heart still beating too fast. Damian's chest heaved as he turned to face her, his face shadowed and cold.
"I told you this world would destroy you," he said quietly. "Now you've seen what it does to everything it touches."
She swallowed, tears pricking her eyes. "Then why bring me into it?"
"Because I can't let them have you," he growled. His hand shot out, holding her chin gently but firmly. "Because once Antonio handed you to me, I stopped seeing you as a pawn and started seeing you as the only thing I wouldn't give up."
Her breath caught. "Damian…"
He leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers. His voice dropped, raw and dangerous. "You don't understand what that means for you, Bella."
Do you !???