The estate lay in smoldering ruin, smoke curling into the morning sky like black silk. Bella stood on the balcony, surveying the battlefield below, her rifle slung casually across her shoulder. Her hair, streaked with ash, framed a face sharpened by fire and strategy. Every instinct screamed control, dominance, and the dangerous pleasure of command.
Crystal appeared first, stepping onto the balcony behind her, eyes dark, smoldering. He didn't speak immediately. He just studied her, letting the heat between them hang thick as the smoke. "You're insane," he said finally, voice low and rough. "And I love it."
Bella tilted her head, a sly, dangerous smile playing on her lips. "Insane keeps people alive," she replied. "And keeps you on your toes."
His hand brushed hers, fingers lingering, possessive. The touch wasn't casual it was a claim, a challenge, a promise. She felt it like fire racing through her veins.
Before she could respond, Christian stepped up, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, strong and contained. "You're reckless," he murmured, tone deep and steady, dangerous in its restraint. "One misstep and—"
"—and I survive," Bella finished for him, letting her grin sharpen. Her eyes flicked between the two men, feeling the magnetic pull, the tension, the claim of both. She didn't need protection. But damn if it wasn't intoxicating to have two predators circling her fire.
Crystal growled, low and primal. "Stay with me," he said, almost more to himself than to her.
Christian's jaw tightened. "Or with me," he countered, his voice a dark promise wrapped in steel.
Bella let a slow, deliberate exhale escape her lips, letting both men feel the electricity pulsing between them. She didn't choose not yet but she wouldn't hide either. Desire, power, and danger wrapped around her like a cloak of smoke and fire.
Then the screens lit up in the control room behind her. Russo's convoy had been located: a warehouse on the edge of the city, poorly defended but reinforced. Bella's eyes glimmered with wicked intent. "Time to strike," she whispered.
Crystal's hand found hers again, thumb brushing over knuckles, possessive, protective. "You sure?" he asked, voice low, dark.
"I don't need your permission," she replied, letting her fingers tighten around his. "I need victory."
Christian's presence pressed against her back, solid and commanding. "Then we move together," he said, voice a growl, a tether of strength and heat. "No mistakes. No hesitation."
Bella's pulse raced. The tension between the three of them was almost unbearable, charged with danger, desire, and unspoken promises. She let it fuel her focus. They were no longer simply fighting a war they were bending it, shaping it, commanding it.
The convoy erupted under their strike. Fire, smoke, and chaos painted the streets as Bella moved with lethal precision. Crystal tore through attackers with predatory grace, protective and possessive of the woman at their center. Christian's every action was a shield and a blade, covering their flanks, his intensity dark and consuming.
Bella's hands were steady on the rifle, every shot calculated, every movement a declaration. She was the storm, and the world burned in her wake.
At a brief pause, Bella leaned against the control room wall, catching her breath. Crystal was beside her, fingers brushing hers, heat and danger coiling between them. Christian stepped closer from the other side, pressing the warmth of his body against hers. The proximity was almost unbearable, a triangle of desire and unspoken tension.
"You're impossible," Christian said again, voice low, dark, teasing but the edge of longing in it was undeniable.
Bella smiled, sharp and wicked. "I know," she replied. "And I don't intend to change."
Crystal growled, brushing a hand down her arm, possessive and burning. "Damn it," he muttered, a sound that was frustration, desire, and claim all at once.
Bella let her gaze drift between the two of them, letting the pull, the hunger, the dangerous intimacy settle. She didn't choose not tonight but she owned the fire, the battlefield, and the tension swirling around her.
"Let's finish this," she said, voice cutting through the heat, the smoke, and the chaos. "Together. Or not at all."
And as the night fell, Bella, Crystal, and Christian moved as one a triad of storm, fire, and desire, leaving nothing untouched in their path.
For Bella, the war wasn't just about power anymore. It was about claiming it all and bending the two men who burned for her to her will.