C35 A DANCE WITH SHADOWS

Isabella's POV

The chamber is saturated with the aroma of gunpowder and sweat, the air crackling with tension. We’re crouched behind what remains of the toppled table, using it as a makeshift shield. Bullets continue to tear through the air, splintering wood and smashing glass. My heart pounds in my chest, every beat a reminder that we’re teetering on the edge.

“On my count,” Enzo murmurs