The storm broke before dawn.
It wasn't thunder that woke Isabella this time, it was the sound of glass shattering.
Her eyes flew open just as Damian's hand clamped over her mouth. "Shh." His voice was a low growl, hot against her ear. His other hand held a gun.
The dim room was lit only by lightning, slicing the dark into flashes of silver and shadow.
In that brief light, she saw everything: the tension in his jaw, the blood at his temple, the fury in his eyes.
"Stay quiet," he whispered. "They found us."
Before she could ask who, the door downstairs crashed open. Men shouted. The sound of gunfire split the silence, echoing through the house.
Damian pulled her out of bed, his movements precise and controlled despite the chaos.
He shoved a heavy coat over her shoulders and dragged her toward the back stairs.
"Damian…"
"Not now."
She bit her tongue. The smell of gunpowder filled the hall, sharp and metallic. Every step felt like walking through a nightmare.
Luca appeared at the end of the corridor, blood on his sleeve, his expression grim. "The front's gone. We need the tunnel."
"Go," Damian ordered, pushing Isabella toward him.
"No.." she protested, clutching Damian's arm. "I'm not leaving you."
For a split second, he looked at her really.
And something inside him cracked.
"You think I'd let you?" His voice was low, raw. "You're coming with me."
They moved fast. Through the back hall, down the hidden passage behind the wine cellar one she hadn't known existed until now.
The air grew colder, heavier, the sounds of the fight fading behind them.
When they reached the end of the tunnel, Damian kicked open a steel door that led out into the rain.
A black SUV waited there, engine already running.
Luca slid behind the wheel. Damian guided Isabella inside, his hand still gripping her tightly, like if he let go for even a second, the world would tear her away.
As the car sped into the night, she turned to him. "Who were they?"
His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. "People who don't like broken deals."
"Because of my father?"
He didn't answer. The silence was heavier than any truth.
Lightning flashed again this time revealing a convoy of headlights in the distance. Two black sedans chasing them, closing fast.
Luca swore under his breath. "They're gaining."
"Drive faster," Damian snapped. Then, to Isabella, "Down."
He leaned out the window, firing a few clean shots. The cars swerved, one spinning out into the ditch but the other stayed close.
"Damian.."
"Keep your head down!" he barked.
The SUV jolted as bullets hit the rear glass.
Damian fired again, jaw clenched, rain soaking his shirt until it clung to him. The wild flash of muzzle light made his features look carved from fire and fury.
Then suddenly silence.
The chasing car disappeared from view. Smoke rose from behind them.
Luca exhaled shakily. "We lost them."
"Not for long." Damian's voice was rough, his knuckles white around the gun. "Get us to the safe house."
They drove for another hour through winding roads until the trees swallowed the highway.
When they finally stopped, they were in front of an isolated cabin, tucked deep in the forest, the kind of place the world forgot existed.
Damian got out first, scanning the shadows before opening her door. His shirt was torn, rain dripping from his hair.
"Inside," he said, his voice softer now.
Isabella followed, still trembling. The cabin was small but warm wooden walls, a fire already burning in the stone hearth.
He set his gun on the table, then turned to her. "You're safe here. For now."
"For now," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "You mean they'll come again."
His eyes flickered to hers that dark, dangerous blue that always made her heart trip.
"They always come again."
She swallowed hard, watching him strip off his soaked jacket. His white shirt clung to his skin, muscles moving beneath it as he checked the weapon.
Every movement was controlled, precise but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the chaos beneath the surface.
"Damian," she said quietly, stepping closer. "Why are they after you and not just my father?"
He hesitated. Then looked up.
The truth was right there in his eyes something darker, deeper, that he still wasn't ready to say.
"Because your father made a deal with the devil," he said finally. "And now the devil wants what's his."
Her breath caught. "And what's that?"
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel his breath against her cheek.
"You," he whispered.
The words sent a shiver through her not just fear, but something far more dangerous.
And when his hand lifted to brush a drop of rain from her jaw, her pulse betrayed her racing, wild, alive.
Outside, the storm still raged.
But inside the safe house… something far more volatile had just begun.
The storm hadn't stopped it howled against the cabin, rain drumming like an impatient heartbeat.
Inside, the silence was deafening.
Isabella sat by the fire, arms wrapped around her knees, watching the flames twist and dance.
Her hair was still damp, her skin cold, but her mind burned with everything that had happened: the attack, the escape, the look in Damian's eyes when he told her she was what the devil wanted.
Behind her, she could hear him pacing.
Boots against wood. The low scrape of metal as he reloaded his gun.
The tension in every movement screamed that he didn't trust the quiet that he was one wrong sound away from drawing blood again.
"You should rest," he said at last, his voice hoarse.
She turned to face him. "So you can stand there all night waiting for another attack?"
His gaze lifted those storm-dark eyes, finding hers, unreadable. "I don't sleep when I know someone's hunting us."
"Us," she repeated softly. "Not just me?"
He hesitated. Just for a second. Then, "No. Not just you."
She rose, the blanket falling from her shoulders. "Then sit," she said. "At least for a moment."
He didn't move.
"Damian." Her voice softened. "Please."
That broke something in him. He lowered himself beside her, the heat of his body cutting through the chill in the air.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled. The rain whispered secrets against the windows.
Finally, Isabella said, "You said my father made a deal with the devil. Tell me what that means."
His jaw clenched. The firelight painted sharp shadows across his face, making him look even more carved, more dangerous.
"It means Antonio chose power over peace. And when he couldn't pay the price, he offered something else."
Her stomach twisted. "What?"
Damian's eyes flickered , pain, anger, restraint. "You."
Her breath caught. "That's not true."
"Is it?" he murmured. "You were promised to me before you even knew my name."
Isabella's heart hammered. "Then why did you act like it was a game? Like I was just another… conquest?"
His lips curved, but there was no humor in it. "Because I didn't want to be your jailer, Bella. But the moment I met you…" He trailed off, his voice dropping lower. "I realized I already was."
The confession hit her like a blow and yet, something in her chest ached at the truth in it.
She whispered, "You could have let me go."
He turned to her, his hand brushing her cheek, gentle in a way that didn't fit the man she'd seen kill without hesitation. "I tried."
Her throat tightened. "No, you didn't."
His thumb traced her jaw, slow and deliberate, his voice a low growl.
"You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you. Every time you look at me like that" his breath hitched, raw "I lose my reason."
Her pulse stuttered. "And what happens when you lose it completely?"
His gaze dropped to her lips. "Then there's no going back."
The air between them burned. The sound of the storm faded; all she could hear was his heartbeat steady, strong, terrifying.
He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath ghost across her lips.