The night had a weight to it, thick and suffocating, with smoke curling from the burning warehouses on the outskirts of the city. Bella stood on the rooftop of the estate, the wind tossing her hair across her face, her eyes scanning the cityscape like a predator marking territory. Every shadow seemed to twitch, every distant siren was a drumbeat of war.
Crystal appeared first, moving with a silence that belied the storm in his chest. He leaned against the ledge near her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he murmured, voice low, almost a growl.
"I'm never alone," Bella said, letting her gaze flicker to him, feeling the tension coil between them. "Not with you two watching me."
Crystal's hand brushed hers, lingering a dangerous, possessive touch that made her pulse thrum. "Watching isn't enough," he said, eyes dark and molten. "I want you close. Always."
Before she could answer, Christian stepped up from the shadows, his presence like gravity itself. He stopped just behind her, shoulder brushing hers, and the air between them crackled with unspoken intensity. "You're reckless," he said, voice low, commanding, but the heat beneath it betrayed the pull he felt. "One misstep, Bella…"
"—and I survive," she finished, turning slightly so their eyes met. Her grin was sharp, dangerous, and utterly deliberate. She could feel the closeness of both men, their desire and their restraint, their need and their claim. And she let it fuel her.
The screens in the control room lit up, showing Russo's remaining forces regrouping near the river docks. Bella's mind snapped into strategy mode, every heartbeat synchronized with the chaos. "We hit them before they realize we're coming," she said. "Swift, precise, and… personal."
Crystal's fingers brushed hers again, tight, possessive. "You're insane," he muttered. "But I'll follow you anywhere."
Christian's jaw clenched, his breath hot against her neck. "And I," he said, voice a growl, "will make sure nothing touches you that I can stop."
Bella let herself smile, a wicked, dangerous curve of her lips. "Then let's remind them what it means to cross the Abaddons."
The strike was brutal and precise. Bella, Crystal, and Christian moved through the docks like shadows made flesh. Gunfire ripped through the night, and the smell of smoke, blood, and oil hung heavy. Bella's rifle was an extension of herself, every shot a statement: I am the storm, and I am not to be ignored.
Crystal moved beside her like a coiled predator, cutting down attackers with a lethal elegance. Every time his hand brushed hers, whether to steady her or claim proximity, a spark raced through her. Christian covered their flanks, his eyes scanning, his body tense, taut with controlled power, and every time he brushed her back or nudged her out of danger, her chest tightened with the weight of what it meant his protection, his desire, his claim.
Bella's pulse raced. She felt the fire between them as acutely as the fire around them. Crystal's dark gaze, molten with obsession. Christian's stormy intensity, a promise and a warning. And in the chaos, Bella realized she didn't need to choose yet she could hold them both in the space of danger, of fire, of desire.
She leapt onto a shipping container, rifle ready. Two mercenaries lunged at her at once. One went down under her precise aim, the other met Crystal's knife midair, a clash of steel and shadow. She landed lightly, smirk sharp, and found Christian at her side, eyes locked on hers.
"You're impossible," he breathed, a growl, a warning, a promise.
"And you," she countered, leaning close enough that the heat from their bodies collided, "are dangerously predictable."
Crystal growled low, possessive, brushing a hand down her arm. "Stay with me," he said, his voice a promise, not a question.
Bella tilted her head between them, letting the tension, the heat, the intoxicating pull stretch thin and taut. She didn't answer, not with words. She let them feel it. Let them know the power she wielded over fire, over war, over desire.
Then, the screens lit up Russo himself was arriving with reinforcements. Bella's pulse accelerated. She turned, eyes sharp, mind precise. "Time to end this," she said, voice flat, controlled, dangerous. "Together."
Crystal smirked, fingers brushing hers again, claiming, protective. Christian's hand pressed to her back, steadying her, taut, almost daring her to challenge him. Bella let herself feel both, let herself command both, and with a wicked grin whispered, "Then let's burn them to ashes."
The night erupted into fire and steel, the three of them moving as one deadly, beautiful, terrifying unit. And in the midst of chaos, Bella realized a truth she hadn't dared yet: she could have them both not because she needed them, but because they couldn't resist her fire.
And the war, like the dark, heated tension between the three of them, had only just begun.