The city was screaming. Smoke curled into the sky like black serpents, flames licked the edges of the estate, and the distant sound of sirens mixed with gunfire and explosions. Bella stood at the top of the shattered steps, her chest heaving, eyes sharp, taking in every movement. She could feel Crystal and Christian flanking her like living weapons, each step synchronized with hers, each glance a promise of something dangerous and intoxicating.
Crystal's hand brushed hers as he passed, lingering a heartbeat too long. His gaze was molten, black and white and red all at once, full of possessive heat. "Don't get yourself killed," he growled, though the need underneath was obvious. Bella smirked, brushing the dust from her clothes, letting him see that she didn't care. She never had. "I control the fire," she whispered, almost to herself.
Christian's presence pressed against her from the other side. He leaned close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, the taut strength beneath his clothes, and the steadying weight of him. "One mistake," he murmured, voice low, rough, almost predatory, "and it could cost you… or me." Bella met his eyes, the storm and control in them burning into her, and she let herself hold the moment dangerous, electric, impossible to resist.
The battle exploded around them. Mercenaries surged like a tide, black against the orange glow of fire. Bella's rifle barked in bursts, cutting down the first wave. Crystal moved like a shadow of violence, every strike precise, every step a claim. Christian was calm in chaos, but deadly, moving men out of the line of fire, protecting Bella as if the world could only exist because she survived.
And yet, the tension between them the dark pull of desire, the unspoken claims, the rivalry simmering under every glance made Bella's heart race faster than any battle could. She was both predator and prey, and both men were drawn to the fire in her, knowing she was untamed, untouchable, and yet… theirs.
A helicopter descended over the north lawn, ropes slamming into the ground. Russo's elite had arrived, and with them, the final test. Bella's pulse accelerated. She vaulted from cover to cover, gun raised, the adrenaline making every motion fluid, lethal. Crystal followed, knife drawn, eyes dark with a possessive hunger. Christian flanked her, commanding, guiding, his presence a tether against the chaos but also a temptation, raw and unrelenting.
Bella's breath hitched as she moved between the two men. Each touch a hand brushing hers, a guiding grip, a shield of muscle sent shivers through her. She didn't choose, not yet. She didn't have to. But the heat between them was fire enough to burn the city down.
The mercenary leader lunged, and Bella spun midair, rifle raised. She fired. He went down. Landing, she looked to Crystal and Christian. Crystal's chest pressed against hers for the briefest fraction of a second, his lips almost grazing her ear. "Mine," he breathed, sharp, dangerous, claiming.
Christian's hand brushed the small of her back, steadying her but not entirely. His fingers were steel wrapped in warmth. "Impossible," he muttered, voice low, half frustration, half awe. Bella smiled, wicked, untamed. "I know," she said, letting the chaos and desire coil around them both like a storm.
Outside, the battle raged. Inside, the storm between them threatened to ignite fully. Bella was alive, not as a pawn, not as a prize, but as the fire that consumed everything in her path. And for the first time, she realized: the war wasn't just for the estate. It was for her.
And she would burn it all down or claim it all for herself.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
The smoke thickened, stinging Bella's eyes, but she didn't flinch. Every breath was a mixture of gunpowder and adrenaline, every heartbeat a drum signaling the war within and without. Crystal moved with a predatory grace, cutting down mercenaries with lethal precision, and every glance he shot Bella was a claim, a warning, a hunger that mirrored her own.
Christian's presence grounded her. He was calm, calculated, lethal in his restraint, yet every time his hand brushed hers or pressed against her back to steady her she felt the pull of him, a tether that promised both safety and desire. She could feel them both wanting her, needing her, fighting over the fire she refused to dim.
The courtyard erupted as Russo's men breached the gate. Bella vaulted over debris, rifle spitting fire. Crystal followed, knife ready, eyes burning as he whispered low, almost to himself, "Stay close." His words were ownership, desire, a dark promise she couldn't ignore.
Christian flanked her, gun trained, voice cutting through the chaos. "Bella, inside. Now!" His tone was sharp, commanding, but when his eyes met hers, there was something else: longing, frustration, the unspoken acknowledgment that she was more than either of them had ever imagined.
She shook her head, letting a wicked grin curve her lips. "Not yet. Let them learn the cost of touching me."
And the world seemed to obey her. Bullets shredded the air, flames consumed metal, but Bella, Crystal, and Christian moved as one a triad of lethal intent and dangerous desire. Every touch, every glance, every near-brush of skin was a silent war, a temptation she fed with every heartbeat.
Bella fired again, bringing down a mercenary who had moved too close. Crystal's hand found hers, fingers tight, his grip possessive. "You're reckless," he growled, the sound low, dangerous, full of something more than warning.
"I'm in control," she hissed back, letting the chaos of the fight mirror the chaos she felt between them.
Christian stepped close enough that his shoulder brushed hers, his presence pressing into her, grounding and stirring all at once. "One mistake—" he growled, a low rumble, "and it could cost you… or me."
Bella met his gaze, the storm of power and desire in his eyes, and let herself smile, wicked and untamed. "Then you'll have to keep up."
Crystal's jaw clenched, frustration and hunger in equal measure. Christian's hands flexed at his sides, taut with intensity and control. Bella let the tension coil around them like a living thing, the fire between the three of them more dangerous than any bullet or flame.
A final wave of mercenaries surged forward. Bella's rifle barked, Crystal's knife flashed, and Christian moved like a shadow of steel and fury, saving lives and taking them with equal ruthlessness. Together, they were unstoppable a storm of fire, desire, and power.
The courtyard fell silent at last. Smoke rose, embers drifted, and the scent of blood and burning metal hung heavy. Bella stood atop the shattered steps, chest heaving, eyes blazing. Crystal and Christian flanked her, two halves of a storm she had tamed and yet, not tamed her.
Crystal's hand brushed hers again, lingering, a claim and a question. "You're mine," he said, voice low, dangerous, raw.
Christian's presence pressed from the other side, heat and strength coiling around her. "Impossible," he said again, voice rough, filled with awe and desire.
Bella's grin widened, sharp and wicked. "I know," she said. "I choose no one… and both."
And in the quiet after the storm, with the world burning at her feet, Bella realized she hadn't just survived fire. She had commanded it and she would never let anyone, not Crystal, not Christian, not Anthony, claim her.
Because for Bella, desire, power, and war were one. And she intended to win them all.