The estate smoldered like a beast wounded but not defeated. Smoke clung to the morning air, curling in patterns that mirrored the chaos of Bella's mind. She stood at the top of the marble steps, rifle in hand, boots planted firmly on shattered stone. Every sense screamed danger and desire.
Crystal emerged from the debris, chest heaving, eyes molten. He stalked toward her like a predator circling its prey, yet his gaze never left hers. "You should be inside," he growled, voice low, edged with something darker than warning. His hand brushed hers when he passed, lingering a moment longer than necessary. That moment was enough to make her pulse spike.
"I like the view," Bella said, tilting her head, smirk sharp and wicked. "And I like the fire."
Behind her, Christian moved with silent precision, surveying the perimeter, every movement controlled, deliberate, protective. He stepped close, too close to ignore, and pressed his side against hers as he repositioned her behind cover. The heat from his body was a tether, grounding her, but also setting every nerve ablaze.
"You're insane," he murmured, almost to himself, voice low, rough, impossible to resist. "And reckless."
"I'm neither," Bella countered, her voice a whisper of challenge and tease. "I'm the storm. And storms don't ask permission."
The two men flanked her now one a blaze of possessive danger, the other a hurricane of control and intensity. The pull between them was a living thing, coiled, dangerous, demanding. Bella let herself feel it, feeding the tension without yielding to either completely.
Crystal growled low, a sound that was equal parts warning and hunger. His hand brushed hers again, this time with intent, a spark of fire igniting between them. "Stay with me," he said, his words almost pleading beneath the growl.
"I always stay with the fire," she replied, leaning into him just enough to feel the strength in his chest, the promise of violence and protection all at once.
Christian's hand slid along her back, brushing her waist, steadying her but not just steadying. His touch was a silent claim, a reminder of his presence, his willingness to shield her, to possess her in a way that made her shiver. "One mistake," he murmured, dark and dangerous, "and I won't forgive it. Or you."
Bella's lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile, letting the electricity hum between them. "Then you'll have to keep up," she said, letting the tension coil like a living thing around all three of them.
From below, Russo's remaining mercenaries regrouped, their movements stiff and cautious, unaware of the lethal force arrayed above them. Bella raised her rifle, scanning, calculating, commanding. The men flanking her both the storm and the fire were extensions of her will. She fired, precise, deadly, each shot a message: Come closer, and you burn.
Crystal lunged toward the advancing mercenaries, blade slicing through smoke, each strike an extension of his desire to protect her. Christian's presence at the flank was commanding, brutal, precise, covering every blind spot, anticipating every threat. And Bella? She moved like a queen on a chessboard of carnage, taking lives and hearts alike, lethal and untouchable.
A rare silence fell for a heartbeat. Crystal's fingers brushed hers again, intentionally this time, lingering in a caress that was almost intimate amid the chaos. His eyes burned into hers, molten with want and possession.
"You're mine," he whispered, dark and low.
Christian's breath ghosted across her neck, his hand brushing her side, and his eyes flared with intensity, protective and demanding. "No. You're with me," he countered, voice rough, commanding.
Bella's chest heaved. Desire and war intertwined in a dangerous dance. She didn't need to choose not yet but she let them feel her power, her fire, her magnetic control.
She tilted her head, letting her lips brush the corner of Crystal's jaw briefly, teasing, daring. Then she pressed against Christian's side, letting the heat from his body ignite her skin. The fire between them both literal and metaphorical was intoxicating.
"Focus," she said finally, letting the word cut through the tension. "The war isn't over. And neither am I."
Crystal's jaw clenched, Christian's eyes flared, and Bella smiled a sharp, wicked curve of control. She wasn't just surviving the chaos. She was commanding it. And for both men, the desire to claim her burned hotter than the estate around them.
Smoke and fire swirled beneath the estate gates, but Bella, flanked by Crystal and Christian, stood above it all, untouchable, unyielding, and utterly irresistible. Whoever thought they could bend her or possess her would soon learn that storms bow to no one.
And Bella? She didn't just command fire. She was the fire.