Upstairs, the fighting was getting worse. A bullet grazed Enzo's arm, and Alessandro had to pull him back behind cover. Isabella had taken down three men from her position near the window, but more kept coming.
"They're trying to break down the door," she said, her voice tense. "We're running out of time."
Just then, Clara's voice came over the intercom. "Alessandro—let me talk to them. I have an idea."
He hesitated. "Clara, no—they'll kill you."
"Trust me," she said. "I can end this without more bloodshed."
Reluctantly, he agreed. Isabella unlocked the door, and Clara stepped out, her hands raised. The shooting stopped for a moment as the men outside saw her.
"I'm Clara," she called out. "I know you want the weapons in Marcus's warehouse. I'll give them to you—all of them. But you have to leave. Now."
A man stepped forward from the crowd—tall, with a tattoo of a snake on his neck. "And why should we trust you?" he asked. "Salvatore promised us power, and you killed him."
"Salvatore lied to you," she said. "He used you. I'm offering you a choice: take the weapons and run, or stay and fight. But my reinforcements are on the way. If you stay, you'll die."
The man looked at his men, then back at Clara. "What if we don't want to run?" he said. "What if we want to join you?"
Clara smiled. "Then the weapons stay here," she said. "And you swear to follow our rules—no violence, no betrayal. We're building something new. You can be part of it, or you can be against it. The choice is yours."