Shadows of the Past, Fury on the Road
The intruder stepped further into the room, his gun glinting in the dim light. Elena pushed Isabella tighter behind her, the pistol firm in her grip despite the tremor in her hand.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharper than her fear.
The man laughed, low and cruel. "You really thought you could disappear? That changing your name would erase what you are?"
Her stomach twisted. No… not now. Not in front of Isabella.
"Elena Nightshade," he repeated. "Daughter of Adrian Nightshade. The traitor. The coward. The man who sold out his pack."
Her chest heaved, memories she had buried ripping open. Her father's downfall. The shame. The exile. All the whispers that had followed her her entire life. She had run from that name, sworn it would never touch her again.
But now, her past had found her.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she said, though her voice faltered.
The man sneered. "Oh, I do. And there are powerful men who would pay everything to have you delivered to them. You're not just Lucian's weakness—you're the key to an old debt."
Elena's blood ran cold. So this was why they wanted her. Not just because of Lucian—but because of her bloodline.
Behind her, Isabella whimpered, and the sound snapped Elena's fear into fury. She raised the gun higher. "If you think I'll let you touch her—or me—you're dead already."
The man smirked. "Then pull the trigger."
---
On the road…
Lucian's car roared through the streets, tires screeching as he pushed the engine to its limits. His men clung to the sides of the convoy, weapons ready, but all Lucian could see was Elena's face—her trembling hands, her whispered confessions, her lips beneath his.
If he was too late—if she was taken—he would paint the city red until there was nothing left standing.
"Boss," Marco said from the passenger seat, his voice tight. "Whoever came after her—they're not Valdez. They knew her name. This is bigger than we thought."
Lucian's grip tightened on the wheel, his jaw like steel. "I don't care if it's the cartel, the government, or the devil himself. Anyone who touches her dies."
---
Back at the safehouse…
The intruder lunged. Elena fired.
The shot cracked through the room, echoing off the walls. The man stumbled, clutching his arm, blood seeping between his fingers. Snarling, he tried to raise his weapon again—only for another voice to cut through the chaos.
"Elena!"
Lucian's roar filled the doorway as he stormed inside, his gun already raised. He didn't hesitate. One shot, clean to the head, dropped the intruder where he stood.
The silence afterward was deafening.
Lucian's chest heaved, his eyes wild until they landed on Elena. She was still holding the pistol, her hands shaking, tears streaming down her soot-streaked face. Isabella clung to her, sobbing softly.
In two strides, Lucian was in front of her, his hands cupping her face, his forehead pressing against hers. His voice broke.
"I thought I lost you."
She let out a ragged sob, collapsing against him, the truth finally spilling. "Lucian… they know who I am. They know my past. I can't run from it anymore."
His arms tightened around her, his voice a vow carved in fire.
"Then let them come. Because whoever they are, whatever they want—they'll have to go through me first."