Chapter 171
Isabella didn’t just step forward—she planted her boot directly on the dead man’s wrist.
“Weren’t you looking for me?” she asked, twirling the silver handgun she’d just claimed.
With a sharp kick, she sent the red-haired thug’s body sliding across the dock.
Less than two minutes.
That was all it had taken.
The man whose neck she’d snapped was already sinking into the dark, icy waves.
Isabella raised the gun, her face unreadable in the moonlight.
“What’s wrong?” she taunted. “Why are you backing up now?”
The men froze, their bravado shattered by what they’d just witnessed.
Under the pale glow of the moon, Isabella moved like a shadow—lethal, precise, untouchable.
One of them inched his hand toward his holster, trying to be subtle.
Isabella’s voice sliced through the silence.
“Don’t.”
A single word, calm but razor-sharp.
“Your hand is straying where it shouldn’t.”
Her tone was almost conversational, but it sent a chill down his spine.
Nico Esposito, his freckled face twisting into a sneer, barked out a laugh.
“Don’t let her bluff you!” he spat, his eyes glinting with malice.
“That gun’s got one bullet left. One.”
His gaze dragged over her, lingering in a way that made her skin crawl.
“You picked the wrong fight, sweetheart.”
His grin widened.
“Even if you’re a perfect shot, you can only take out one of us. After that?”
He licked his lips.
“We’ll make sure you regret every second.”
The others straightened, their fear dissolving into cruel smirks.
Nico was right.
One bullet. One chance.
And she was just a woman—what could she do against all of them?
Isabella weighed the gun in her hand.
They weren’t wrong.
One bullet.
“Fighting’s not your style, Nico,” she said softly, her voice laced with false sweetness.
He chuckled, stepping closer.
“Surrender now, and I’ll be gentle.”
His voice dropped, thick with promise.
“Unlike the others, I won’t break you.”
His eyes darkened.
“But if you resist… well, death’s the least of your worries.”
The threat hung in the air, his intentions unmistakable.
They had the numbers. The advantage.
Capturing her would please their boss—and maybe earn them a reward.
And Isabella?
She was just a bonus.
For a heartbeat, she hesitated.
Her lips parted, frustration flickering across her face before she exhaled, shoulders slumping in apparent defeat.
“If I surrender… you won’t kill me?”
Nico smirked.
“Scout’s honor.”
He could barely contain his excitement.
The thought of breaking her—watching that defiance crumble—was intoxicating.
“Drop the gun,” he ordered, voice thick with anticipation.
Slowly, Isabella knelt, placing the gun on the dock.
Her movements were deliberate, her expression resigned.
Nico watched, hunger burning in his eyes, as she stood and stepped toward him, hands raised in surrender.
Her shirt shifted, revealing a sliver of skin at her waist.
His breath hitched.
“Come here,” he growled, gun still trained on her.
Isabella smiled, soft and compliant.
“See? Empty hands.”
Her voice was honey-sweet.
“Why don’t you tie me up yourself? You did promise you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Nico hesitated, momentarily dazed by her submission.
The idea of her yielding so easily made his pulse race.
“Fine,” he muttered, stepping closer.
“I’ll take you in myself.”
But caution still lingered.
He jerked his chin at his men.
“Watch her. Guns up. If she moves—shoot her.”
The men obeyed instantly, weapons raised.
A warning.
One Isabella didn’t miss.
Nico grinned as he reached for her, fingers itching to bind her wrists—
And then—
Everything changed.
Isabella moved like lightning.
Her hand clamped down on his shoulder—
Her knee drove up—
CRACK.
Bone shattered.
Nico choked, blood spraying from his lips as jagged ribs pierced his lungs.
Before he could even scream, Isabella wrenched the gun from his grip—
And spun behind him, using his body as a shield.
“KILL HER! NOW!” one of the men shrieked, fumbling for his weapon—
