The helicopter soared over the city, the wind whipping against Isabella's face as she clung to the ladder. Below, Langston's men scattered across the rooftop, their weapons useless against the sky.
For now, they had escaped.
Alexander pulled her up into the cabin, his grip firm around her wrist. Claire and Damian followed, slamming the door shut as the chopper tilted upward. The distant hum of sirens echoed beneath them.
Isabella exhaled sharply, leaning against the cool metal wall. Her heart still pounded, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
"That was close," Damian muttered, rubbing his temples.
Claire shot him a glare. "Close? We were seconds from being riddled with bullets."
Alexander sat across from Isabella, his sharp eyes never leaving her. "You almost didn't get on that ladder."
She met his gaze, arching a brow. "And you almost didn't let me finish what I started."
His jaw clenched. "Langston is dangerous, Isabella. You know that."
She leaned forward, voice steady. "And I'm not afraid of him."
Damian checked his laptop, his expression darkening. "Langston won't stay quiet for long. He lost this round, but he'll be coming back harder."
Claire nodded. "We need to go dark, regroup."
Isabella's fingers tapped against her knee. "No more hiding."
They all turned to her.
"We take the fight to him."
Alexander studied her for a moment before nodding. "Then we end this. Once and for all."
The city lights flickered beneath them, a battlefield waiting for its final war.
Isabella clenched her fists.
Langston thought he had won.
He had no idea what was coming for him.