The church bells in Prague rang through the night like a warning. Distant, hollow, and cold.
Aria stood by the window of the safehouse, her breath fogging the glass as she stared out at the sleeping city. Dominic had placed them in an abandoned building on the outskirts, far from the reach of eyes and ears. But no matter how far they ran, the storm followed.
Her fingers trembled against the windowsill. Not from fear, but from the name that had echoed in her ears since Luca said it.
Isabella.
The name was a wound reopened. A memory she had spent years burying.
Dominic stood at the far end of the room, speaking quietly with Marco, who was still pale from blood loss but upright. Luca paced with a cigarette between his fingers, his frustration barely contained. And Nico sat in the corner, a knife balanced on his palm, watching them all with guarded eyes. Even Mara, who rarely spoke unless she had to, hovered close to Aria now, her presence solid, as if silently promising not to let her break.
But Aria felt the cracks spreading inside her.
She turned slowly. "How is this possible?"
Dominic looked up. "We don't know yet."
"She died. They said she died. Isabella was gone. I searched for her."
Marco cleared his throat. "That body they found... whoever it was, it wasn't her."
Luca exhaled smoke. "So either someone faked her death, or she faked it herself."
Aria shook her head. "Isabella wouldn't do that. Not to me."
"People change," Dominic said quietly.
Aria's gaze snapped to him. "Not her. Not the girl who protected me when no one else did. Not the girl who took beatings for me. She was the only light I had."
"Then you have to ask yourself," Marco added, "what did they take from her to turn that light into a weapon?"
Silence followed.
Mara broke it with a whisper. "If she's working with Adrian... what does she want?"
Aria already knew.
"Me."
They all looked at her.
"She was always stronger. Faster. Smarter. But I was the weak one, the girl who needed saving. And I think she hated it. Or maybe someone made her believe she should."
Dominic crossed the room. He stopped inches from her, his presence steady.
"You're not that girl anymore. And we're not walking into this blind."
Aria met his gaze. "Then what are we walking into?"
"A trap," Nico muttered. "That's the only thing Isabella was ever good at. Getting in people's heads. Making them see what she wanted them to see."
Luca flicked his cigarette out the window. "So what's the move?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "We draw her out. On our terms."
"How?" Aria asked.
"We make noise. She came out of hiding for a reason. Adrian sent her because she's the one person who can get close enough to hurt you. So we use that."
Marco raised an eyebrow. "You're saying bait her?"
"No," Dominic said. "I'm saying expose her. But not just her. Adrian has allies in this city. Arms dealers. Information brokers. We hit one of his caches. We cut his supply. Make him bleed, make him react."
"And then?" Aria asked.
"Then we see who shows up to pick up the pieces."
---
The next night, the air in Prague was colder than usual. Fog clung to the streets like a ghost's breath.
Dominic's team split into two cars. Marco stayed behind with Mara and Nico. Luca drove the lead vehicle. Aria rode with Dominic, her hand resting near the grip of the gun strapped to her thigh.
The warehouse was quiet. Tucked between two industrial shipping yards near the water, it looked abandoned. But they knew better. Intel from one of Dominic's Romanian contacts said Adrian's men were using it as a temporary drop point for weapons coming in from Russia.
Viktor's weapons.
Which meant this wasn't just a strike. It was a message.
Dominic killed the headlights two blocks away. They approached on foot, shadows among shadows. The night was thick with tension.
Inside, they found three guards. Quick, silent takedowns. No noise.
The room beyond the cargo crates glowed with soft yellow light. Aria crept forward with Dominic behind her. She counted at least eight crates. All marked with Dragunov's seal.
Dominic cracked one open.
Guns.
Military grade. Enough to supply a war.
"Looks like the rumors were true," Luca whispered behind them.
Suddenly, a voice rang out behind the crates.
"You're quicker than I remember, Dom."
Aria froze.
That voice.
It was low. Familiar. But sharper. Colder. Laced with venom.
Dominic straightened slowly. He didn't need to ask who it was.
Isabella stepped into the light.
Her hair was darker now. Her frame leaner. She wore black from head to toe. And her eyes, once soft and full of warmth, were ice.
Aria took a step forward. "Bella?"
Isabella smiled. It was a beautiful smile. And empty.
"You still say my name like it means something."
Dominic raised his gun. "End of the line, Isabella."
She tilted her head. "You think I came alone?"
She snapped her fingers.
From behind the walls, masked men appeared. Five. Maybe six. All armed. All waiting.
Dominic cursed under his breath. "Back up. Slowly."
But Isabella kept her eyes on Aria.
"You were supposed to come with me that night. Remember? I waited. I waited for hours. But you never showed. You left me to die."
"I didn't know," Aria said, her voice cracking. "They told me you were gone. They told me you were dead."
"They lied. But you believed them. And you forgot me. Like everyone else."
"I never forgot you."
Isabella's jaw clenched. "Too late."
Gunfire erupted.
Dominic tackled Aria behind a crate. Luca returned fire. Bodies hit the floor. Screams echoed through the warehouse.
But when the smoke began to clear, Isabella was gone.
Only her voice lingered, echoing through the chaos.
"This is only the beginning."
---
Back at the safehouse, blood stained Luca's shirt from a graze wound, but it wasn't deep. Marco stitched him up in silence.
Aria sat in the corner, holding a photo of her and Isabella from years ago. Two girls smiling at a world that had long since turned its back on them.
Dominic watched her.
"She's not who you remember," he said.
"I know."
"But part of her might still be in there."
Aria didn't answer.
She looked out the window.
"Then I'll find it."
Dominic didn't stop her.
Because he knew that if anyone could reach the ghost that Isabella had become, it would be Aria.
But what he didn't say, what he couldn't say, was that Adrian had just played his most dangerous card.
And there was something darker coming.
Something even Isabella feared.
A new player had arrived in Prague.
And he didn't want money.
He wanted revenge.