The weight of Isabella's words settled upon Alessandro like a shroud. Enzo, his brother in arms, the man who had pulled him from the brink of death, was a traitor. The revelation was a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for reason in a world suddenly devoid of logic. How could Enzo, who had shared his bread, his battles, his very life, align himself with Salvatore, the viper who sought to destroy everything Alessandro held dear?
He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. Doubt gnawed at him, whispering insidious questions. Could Isabella be wrong? Could their intelligence be flawed? But he knew Isabella. She was meticulous, cautious, and unwavering in her loyalty. If she said they had proof, then proof existed.
"Show me," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Isabella led him to a small, hidden room, its walls lined with monitors displaying encrypted messages. She tapped a few keys, and a series of communications flashed across the screen. Alessandro recognized the coded language, a system he and Enzo had developed years ago. His heart sank further as he deciphered the messages, each one a carefully crafted piece of betrayal, detailing his movements, his strategies, and, most damningly, Clara's location.
The evidence was irrefutable. Enzo had been playing them all along, feeding Salvatore information while feigning loyalty. The pain was a sharp, burning ache in his chest, a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade.
He turned away from the screen, his face a mask of fury and grief. "Why?" he repeated, the word a ragged whisper. "Why would he do this to me?"
Isabella placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch offering a small measure of comfort. "We don't know, Alessandro. But we will find out. Right now, our priority is Clara. We need to get to her before Salvatore's men do."
He nodded, forcing himself to focus on the immediate threat. Clara was his everything, the light in his darkness, the reason he fought. He would not let Salvatore's treachery, or Enzo's betrayal, jeopardize her safety.
"We leave now," he said, his voice regaining its steel. "Prepare the vehicles. I want a full arsenal. We're going to war."
As they moved to gather their weapons, Alessandro's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of Enzo's betrayal. Had he been working for Salvatore all along? Or had something happened to turn him? Was he being blackmailed? Or had the allure of power and wealth proven too tempting?
He remembered their shared history, the countless battles they had fought side by side, the bonds of brotherhood forged in the fires of conflict. He remembered Enzo saving his life, taking a bullet meant for him, and the unwavering loyalty he had shown him over the years. How could that loyalty have been a lie?
The questions swirled in his mind, unanswered and agonizing. But he knew he couldn't dwell on them now. He had to focus on the mission, on protecting Clara. He would deal with Enzo later, when he had Clara safe and in his arms.
They gathered their weapons, checking each one meticulously. Alessandro chose his favorite Beretta, its weight familiar and comforting in his hand. He also grabbed a tactical knife, a silenced pistol, and several grenades. Isabella armed herself with a sniper rifle, a machine gun, and a variety of explosives. They were a formidable team, trained to handle any situation, but even their combined skills might not be enough against Salvatore's forces.
As they prepared to leave, Isabella stopped Alessandro, her hand resting on his arm. "Alessandro," she said, her voice low, "be careful. Enzo knows you better than anyone. He knows your strengths, your weaknesses. He knows how to get to you."
He nodded, his jaw tight. "I know," he said. "But he doesn't know how far I'm willing to go to protect Clara."