The morning after the fire, the city felt quieter somehow — as if it too were holding its breath.
Isabella stood at the window of the safehouse, watching the grey dawn spread over the skyline.
Behind her, Alexander leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
"You didn't sleep," he observed.
"Could you?" she countered, not taking her eyes off the street below.
He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and dry.
"Fair point."
She finally turned to face him, her expression sharp, focused.
"I want to move first this time," she said.
"No more waiting for her to set the board. We strike."
Alexander raised a brow, studying her for a long moment.
"And?" he asked.
"What's your move, darling?"
By midmorning, the table in the center of the room was covered in maps, dossiers, surveillance photos.
Katerina's operations were sprawling — but even a spider had to return to its web eventually.
Isabella traced a line between three of the warehouses that had burned in the past week, then tapped a location just outside the city.
"She's avoiding the ports now," Isabella said, her voice calm but cold.
"But she's still moving product. That means trucks. Backroads. And this—" she tapped again — "is where we'll catch her."
Alexander studied the map, his lips curling faintly.
"You think she's sloppy enough to walk into your little snare?"
"No," Isabella said simply.
"But I think she's arrogant enough to believe I'm still chasing her instead of waiting."
Alexander straightened, and for once his smirk softened into something that looked suspiciously like approval.
"You've grown teeth," he murmured.
"I like it."
That night, Isabella found herself sitting across from Emilia again — this time in a dim corner of the safehouse dining room.
Her sister still wore the same haunted look, her eyes red, her hands twisting in her lap.
"You shouldn't trust her," Emilia whispered finally, breaking the silence.
"She'll kill you. Like she killed—"
"She tried," Isabella cut in.
"And she failed."
Emilia swallowed, her gaze dropping to the table.
"You don't understand. She doesn't just kill you, Isabella. She… destroys you. Makes you nothing before she finally finishes you."
Isabella leaned closer, her voice low and deadly calm.
"Then I'll destroy her first."
Emilia finally raised her eyes, something flickering behind them — fear, yes, but also something else.
"Then you'll need me," she said softly.
"You don't know all her tricks. But I do."
Isabella tilted her head slightly, studying her sister.
"Why help me now?" she asked.
Emilia's lips trembled into a bitter, broken smile.
"Because if you kill her… at least she won't win," she whispered.
The trap was set the next evening.
A convoy of trucks rolled down a lonely stretch of road outside the city — flanked by Katerina's men in SUVs.
But Isabella and Alexander were already waiting in the shadows, their team positioned on both sides of the road.
Through her earpiece, Alexander's voice was a low murmur.
"On your mark."
She watched the lead SUV pass her hiding place — and then the second truck — her pulse steady, her hands calm.
The third truck came into view.
And sitting in the passenger seat, barely visible through the tinted window, was a familiar silhouette: Katerina.
Isabella's lips curved into a cold, fierce smile.
"Now," she whispered.
The world erupted into motion.
Black vans roared onto the road, cutting off the convoy.
Gunshots split the night air as Alexander's men swarmed the SUVs, smoke grenades blooming white and grey.
Isabella moved like water, weaving through the chaos, her eyes locked on that third truck.
She reached it just as the driver stumbled out — taken down by one of Alexander's men — and wrenched the door open.
But the seat was empty.
Katerina's coat lay neatly folded on the seat, a mocking little note tucked on top of it.
Isabella snatched it up, her breath sharp as she read the elegant, taunting script:
"Clever, darling. But not clever enough."
The truck's radio crackled — and Katerina's voice came through, smooth and amused.
"Did you really think I'd make it that easy?"
Isabella froze — then whipped around just in time to see a black helicopter rising silently from behind the trees, Katerina standing at the open door, hair whipping around her face like a dark halo.
Her laughter drifted down on the wind.
"You're learning," she called.
"But you're still two steps behind."
And then the helicopter vanished into the night, leaving nothing but smoke and silence.
Isabella stood there, the note still clenched in her hand, her heart pounding — not with fear anymore, but with cold determination.
She turned back to Alexander, who had appeared at her shoulder.
His eyes gleamed, and for once there was no smirk — only quiet approval.
"What now?" he asked softly.
Isabella's lips curved into a dangerous smile as she tucked the note into her coat.
"Now," she murmured, her voice low and sure,
"we stop playing by her rules."