Chapter 25: The Price of Revenge

Elena Vitiello POV

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The flash drive sat in Isabella's hand like a bomb.

Small.

Ordinary.

Deadly.

"Every secret?" Dante asked quietly.

"Every single one," Isabella replied.

"I spent years collecting it."

"Years spying on us."

"Years preparing."

Marco's finger tightened on his gun.

"Boss, say the word."

"No," Dante said.

"She's armed with information, not bullets."

"Information can be worse," Marco muttered.

"Exactly."

Isabella smiled.

"See? That's why you're dangerous, Dante. You're one of the few people who understands that."

I couldn't stop staring at her.

This woman had celebrated birthdays with me.

Listened to me cry.

Helped me escape.

Held my hand when I finally decided to leave New York.

And every second of it had been a lie.

"Why me?" I whispered.

For the first time, Isabella looked almost uncomfortable.

"Because you were easy to reach."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes, it is."

Her voice softened slightly.

"You were lonely, Elena."

"You were invisible."

"Nobody was paying attention to you."

"Not even your husband."

The words hurt because they were true.

Dante stiffened beside me.

"Enough."

"Why?" Isabella asked.

"Because she's right?"

"Enough."

This time the warning sounded lethal.

The room fell silent.

Then Isabella sighed.

"Fine."

"Let's skip the emotional part."

"I have buyers waiting."

"Government agencies."

"Rival organizations."

"Private investors."

"People who would pay billions for what's on this drive."

"Then why are you still here?" Dante asked.

"Because I wanted to see your face first."

Hatred flashed through her eyes.

Real hatred.

The kind that consumed entire lives.

"My father begged for mercy."

"Your father stole from the Family," Dante replied.

"Your family murdered mine."

"Your father made his choice."

"Maybe."

Isabella smiled bitterly.

"And now I'll make mine."

She turned toward the balcony doors.

"Goodbye, Elena."

"Wait."

The word escaped before I could stop it.

Everyone froze.

Including Isabella.

"What?"

"Was any of it real?"

Silence.

Painful silence.

"What do you mean?"

"Our friendship."

"The phone calls."

"The advice."

"The nights we talked."

"The years."

My throat tightened.

"Was any of it real?"

For the first time, Isabella looked away.

Just for a second.

Just long enough.

And suddenly I knew the answer before she spoke.

"Some of it was."

The confession hurt more than a lie would've.

"Some?"

"More than I intended."

"That's not enough."

"I know."

Tears burned behind my eyes.

Not because I still loved her.

Because I missed someone who had never existed.

The friend I thought I had.

"You should go," I said quietly.

"Elena—"

"Just go."

Something flickered across Isabella's face.

Regret.

Maybe.

Then it vanished.

"Goodbye."

She stepped toward the balcony.

"Boss!" Marco shouted.

Everything happened at once.

A deafening crack shattered the room.

Glass exploded.

Everyone hit the floor.

"SNIPER!"

Another shot.

The window behind Isabella shattered completely.

Chaos erupted.

"DOWN!" Dante roared.

Strong arms wrapped around me.

The world spun.

Then we crashed behind a marble island.

Another shot.

Another explosion of glass.

"Move!" Marco yelled.

"Everybody move!"

"What the hell is happening?" I shouted.

"Someone wants that drive!"

Bullets slammed into the walls.

Furniture exploded.

The penthouse became a war zone.

"Dante!"

"Stay down!"

"Isabella!"

I looked up.

She was still standing.

Staring toward the broken window.

Shocked.

Confused.

Then realization hit her.

"No," she whispered.

"No, no, no..."

"What?" Dante demanded.

"They weren't supposed to be here."

"Who?"

"The buyers."

Another shot.

This one hit.

Isabella stumbled backward.

Blood spread across her shoulder.

"Damn it!" Marco cursed.

"She's hit."

The room descended into madness.

Gunfire.

Shouting.

Breaking glass.

Sirens in the distance.

"Boss! Extraction route!"

"Forget extraction."

"What?"

"Get the drive."

Marco didn't hesitate.

He sprinted across the room.

Bullets followed him.

One narrowly missed.

"Marco!"

"I'm fine!"

"You're an idiot!"

"Occupational hazard!"

Meanwhile, Isabella sat against the wall.

Blood staining her white blouse.

The flash drive still clenched in her hand.

"Elena," she whispered.

"Don't."

"Listen to me."

"No."

"Please."

The word shocked me.

Because Isabella never begged.

"Please."

"Why?"

"Because I made a mistake."

"One?"

"The buyers weren't supposed to kill me."

"That's your concern right now?"

"No."

She looked directly at me.

"You are."

Silence.

"What?"

"The drive."

"What about it?"

"There are files on it."

"Important files."

"Files proving your innocence."

The room seemed to stop.

"What?"

"The accounts."

"The money."

"Everything they used your identity for."

"It's all documented."

"All of it."

My heartbeat accelerated.

"Why?"

"Because I never wanted you destroyed."

"You used me."

"Yes."

"You betrayed me."

"Yes."

"Then why protect me?"

For the first time since I met her...

Isabella looked ashamed.

"Because you were my friend."

Another bullet shattered the wall beside us.

Nobody moved.

Nobody cared.

Because somehow that answer hurt more than the gunfire.

"Elena!" Dante shouted.

"Move!"

Sirens grew louder outside.

Closer.

Much closer.

Police.

Federal agents.

Maybe both.

The war had finally arrived.

And in the middle of the chaos, Isabella slowly held out the flash drive.

"Take it."

"What?"

"Take it."

"Why?"

"Because they're coming."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

Blood stained her fingers.

"And when they arrive..."

She pressed the drive into my hand.

"You're the only person I trust with the truth."

Then the penthouse doors exploded inward.

And the real battle began.