Chapter 19: The Cost Of Truth...

The tension inside the safe house was suffocating. The discovery of Christopher Monroe's secret files should have been a victory, but the sound of approaching footsteps outside shattered any sense of relief.

Damian's grip on his gun tightened. His sharp eyes scanned the room, assessing their next move. Steele was injured, his breathing labored, and Isabelle's pulse pounded in her ears.

"We need to leave," Damian said, his voice low but urgent. "Now."

Steele winced as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. "If we run, they'll hunt us down before we even get to the car."

"Then we fight our way out," Damian replied coldly.

Isabelle swallowed hard, gripping the flash drive tightly. It was small—just a piece of metal and plastic—but inside it was the reason her father had died. The reason she was being hunted.

A single knock echoed through the silence.

Then another.

Damian's jaw clenched. "They want to toy with us."

Steele let out a humorless chuckle. "They love the theatrics."

Then, the knock stopped.

Silence.

And then—

BOOM!

The door burst open, splinters flying in all directions. A black-clad mercenary stormed in, rifle raised. But Damian was faster. He fired before the man could react, a precise shot to the head sending him crumpling to the floor.

"Move!" Damian barked, already grabbing Isabelle's wrist and pulling her toward the back exit.

Steele stumbled behind them, gripping his wound as they pushed through the narrow hallway. The house was old, with creaky wooden floors and peeling wallpaper, but it had been built for survival. Monroe had planned for emergencies, and that meant there had to be another way out.

Gunfire erupted behind them. The mercenaries weren't just breaking in—they were swarming the place.

Damian kicked open a side door, leading them into the overgrown backyard. The SUV was parked just beyond the trees. It was their only chance.

"Get in!" Damian ordered, turning back to cover their escape.

Isabelle helped Steele into the back seat, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the door handle. Another gunshot rang out, barely missing Damian's head as he returned fire.

A second mercenary lunged from the shadows. Isabelle gasped as she saw the glint of a knife aimed straight for Damian's back.

"Damian, behind you!"

Damian spun just in time, blocking the attack with his arm. The blade sliced through his sleeve, drawing blood, but he didn't flinch. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it violently, and drove his knee into his ribs. The mercenary dropped, and Damian finished him with a clean shot to the chest.

"Go!" he shouted, already sprinting to the driver's seat.

The tires screeched as the SUV roared to life. Damian floored the gas pedal, sending them speeding down the dirt road. The side mirror reflected the figures of more mercenaries emerging from the house.

And then—headlights.

Another black SUV appeared ahead, blocking the road.

"Hold on," Damian warned.

The SUV veered sharply to the left, cutting through the trees. Branches scraped against the windows as they tore through the forest, bouncing violently over uneven ground.

"They're gaining on us!" Isabelle cried, glancing at the rearview mirror.

Gunfire erupted. Bullets shattered the back windshield. Steele groaned as a stray bullet grazed his arm.

"Damian!" Isabelle shouted.

"I see it!" he growled.

A clearing appeared ahead, leading back to the main road. But the second SUV was already moving to intercept them.

"Brace yourselves," Damian muttered.

He didn't slow down.

Instead, he accelerated.

The enemy SUV swerved to block them completely, but Damian didn't flinch. At the last second, he jerked the wheel sharply to the right, sending their vehicle skidding sideways. The enemy driver reacted too late. The two cars clipped each other, metal crunching against metal, sending the black SUV spinning off the road and into a ditch.

Damian didn't stop. He sped forward, leaving their pursuers behind.

The road stretched ahead, dark and empty.

But Isabelle knew this wasn't over.

The adrenaline still pulsed in Isabelle's veins as she clutched the flash drive. It felt heavier than it should—like the weight of her father's secrets was pressing down on her.

"What's on that drive?" Damian asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

Steele, still catching his breath, let out a weary sigh. "Enough to destroy them. Names, transactions, locations—it's a kill list of people involved in everything from government assassinations to international arms deals."

Isabelle's hands tightened around the drive. "Then we need to expose it."

Steele shook his head. "It's not that simple. If this gets out the wrong way, we'll all be dead before it even reaches the public."

Damian's expression remained unreadable. "Then we play smart."

Steele gave a bitter smile. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't some crime syndicate we're dealing with. These are the people who run the world. And once they know we have this…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence.

A chill crept up Isabelle's spine. She looked at Damian. "What do we do?"

Damian's grip on the wheel tightened. His jaw clenched.

"We find someone powerful enough to protect us," he said. "And we take this fight to them on our terms."

Steele exhaled. "I might know someone. But it's a risk."

"Everything about this is a risk," Damian muttered.

The road stretched into the unknown. Their enemies would come again.

But for the first time, Isabelle felt something other than fear.

She felt ready.