Rain pounded against the docks, turning the concrete slick beneath Damian's boots.
The air reeked of gasoline and gunpowder the scent of war.
He moved like a shadow through the chaos.
Men shouted orders, gunfire cracked in the distance, and under the howl of the storm, Antonio men advanced with precision only a lifetime in power could breed.
Damian ducked behind a crate, reloading his pistol, his jaw tight. Luca was supposed to have gotten Isabella to safety by now.
The thought of her anywhere near this hell made his pulse spike with fury.
Another gunshot whistled past him, splintering wood inches from his head.
He rose in one smooth motion, returned fire, and dropped the attacker with a clean shot. No hesitation. No remorse.
Only the steady rhythm of violence that had built his empire.
But tonight the rage wasn't about power. It was about her.
A voice broke through the downpour.
"Damian!"
He turned sharply Luca. Soaked to the bone, breathing hard, eyes wild.
"She's gone!"
For a second, Damian didn't move. The storm roared, but all he heard was the echo of Luca's words.
"Say that again," he said, his voice dangerously calm.
Luca stepped forward. "She ran. I tried to stop her, but.."
"Where?" Damian demanded, grabbing his collar.
"She's headed here," Luca hissed. "She's coming straight into the crossfire!"
Damian shoved him back, fury flashing through his gray eyes. "You were supposed to keep her safe!"
"She doesn't listen to anyone, not even you," Luca snapped. "And if you don't move now, Antonio's men will find her before you do."
That broke him.
Damian was already moving, cutting through the smoke and gunfire, his heart thundering louder than the storm.
Every second stretched like a blade at his throat.
Then a flash of movement. A familiar silhouette stumbling through the rain, clutching a small pistol in shaking hands.
"Isabella!"
She froze, eyes wide as he emerged from the shadows.
Water dripped from his hair, his shirt plastered to his body, his gaze burning hotter than the lightning above them.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled, striding toward her.
Her voice shook, but her chin lifted. "I came to stop you. Both of you."
Damian's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her close.
"You think you can stop this war with that?"
He glanced down at her trembling hand and the gun she barely held steady. "You'll get yourself killed."
"Then maybe you'll finally stop fighting!" she snapped, her tears lost in the rain.
He laughed low, bitter, pained. "You think this is about choice, Bella? You think I wanted this?
" His voice cracked with something dangerously close to desperation.
"Your father drew first blood the moment he decided you were leveraged."
Lightning split the sky, revealing the fury in her eyes and the heartbreak.
"Then don't be like him," she whispered. "Please, Damian. End it before it kills you both."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek gentle, almost reverent.
"You think you can save me," he murmured, "but the truth is… I'm already yours to destroy."
Before she could reply, a gunshot rang out again closer this time.
Damian spun, shoving Isabella behind him just as a bullet grazed his arm. He hissed, firing back into the darkness.
And then a voice, cold and familiar, cut through the chaos.
"Step away from her, Damian."
Antonio Ricci stood at the edge of the dock, gun in hand, his men fanning out behind him.
His expression was carved from stone but his eyes… they burned with fury and fear.
"Let her go," Antonio said, voice like steel. "You've taken enough from me."
Damian's jaw clenched. "She's not yours to give."
The rain poured harder, the world narrowing to the three of them father, daughter, and the man who could ruin them both.
"Then you leave me no choice," Antonio said and raised his gun.
The thunder swallowed the sound of the next shot.
The echo of the gunshot shattered the night.
For a heartbeat, everything stopped the rain, the shouting, even the thunder seemed to hold its breath.
Isabella's scream ripped through the silence. "No!"
She didn't know who'd fallen and couldn't see through the veil of rain and smoke.
Her knees hit the ground, the sound muffled by the storm. The world tilted, the smell of blood thick and metallic in the air.
Then boots splashed toward her. A hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her roughly up.
"Move!"
Damian's voice , harsh, alive.
He was bleeding, she could see that much of a dark streak across his sleeve, his eyes wild but burning with focus.
He yanked her close against his chest, shielding her from another volley of gunfire.
Her breath came out in sharp gasps. "Damian…. you're hurt.."
He didn't answer, only pressed her tighter against him, his body a wall of warmth and fury. "Not now, Bella."
His tone was lethal, protecting the voice of a man on the edge of snapping.
He fired again, two precise shots that silenced the approaching footsteps.
Then it was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt wrong.
Through the thinning smoke, shapes moved Antonio's men dragging someone backward.
Luca's silhouette appeared on the far end of the dock, barking orders, his gun raised.
"Boss!" he called out. "We need to move! Now!"
Damian's gaze flicked toward him, then to Isabella, whose hands trembled against his chest. "Can you run?"
She nodded, though her legs felt like water.
"Then stay with me. Don't look back."
But as he pulled her, her eyes caught something on the ground, a shadowed figure half-hidden near the crates, unmoving. Her breath hitched.
"Wait someone's down.."
"Isabella, don't.."
But she tore away before he could stop her, rushing toward the body.
The rain fell harder, masking her sobs. She knelt beside the man, turning him over with shaking hands.
A gasp broke from her lips. "Oh God…"
Not Damian. Not her father.
One of Antonio's guards young, barely older than her. His eyes stared blankly into the storm.
She stumbled back, her hands slick with blood. Her chest heaved, the horror clawing at her throat.
Damian caught up in seconds, gripping her arms. "Do you want to die here?" he snarled.
Her tears mixed with rain. "He was just a boy…"
"Then remember him," Damian said roughly, "and remember this is what your father started."
Lightning flared, revealing the fury and pain tangled in his face. Then softer, almost broken he whispered, "And what I'll end."
Another explosion cracked in the distance the sound of the docks going up in flames. Luca's shout pierced the chaos again. "Now, Damian!"
Damian pulled Isabella against him, his arm wrapping around her waist as they ran through the smoke and fire.
Behind them, the storm swallowed everything: the blood, the bodies, the secrets that wouldn't stay buried much longer.
They didn't stop until they reached the car a black sedan waiting near the bridge.
Luca jumped into the driver's seat, shouting over the rain. "Where's Antonio?"
Damian didn't answer. He shoved Isabella inside, slamming the door before circling around. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed on the inferno behind them.
Luca's voice was low, urgent. "We can't go back there, not tonight."
"I know," Damian muttered. His voice was quiet, but deadly calm. "But this isn't over."
The car sped through the storm, headlights cutting through the dark. Isabella sat in the back, silent, her hands shaking in her lap.
She turned to Damian, her voice barely audible. "Someone could've died."
His gaze flicked to her reflection in the window unreadable. "Someone always does."
The words chilled her more than the rain.
As the city lights reappeared in the distance, Isabella realized the truth there was no escaping this world now.
And somewhere in that burning dock, among the smoke and the screams, a secret had been buried, one that would destroy everything she thought she knew about love, loyalty, and blood.