The shaft was narrow, silent, and cold. Adrian's muscles burned as he dragged his body through, Isabella close behind, her breath hot against his back. The walls seemed to close tighter with every foot.
"This thing better lead out," she muttered.
"It will," Adrian grunted. "My brother never left anything to chance."
"But he died anyway."
That silence between them said more than words could.
At the end of the tunnel, a rusted grate blocked their path. Adrian slammed his boot against it—once, twice—until it cracked and gave way. They spilled out into an abandoned wine cellar thick with dust and mildew. Above them, a trapdoor. He pushed it open and emerged into—
A church.
Deserted. Gutted. Half-burned.
The same one from the photos in the Phoenix Protocol file.
Isabella climbed out beside him, coughing. "Where are we?"
Adrian stood, taking it in. "The origin point."
A pew was smashed in half. In the center aisle, symbols scorched into the marble floor.
He knelt.
"Is this…" Isabella whispered.
"Julian's first assignment as an enforcer. He was sent here to wipe out a mole. But I think…" Adrian brushed ash from a symbol, revealing a crest — half Morello, half Romano.
Isabella's breath caught. "This was a joint operation."
"It was more than that," Adrian said. "It was a pact."
Twelve Years Ago
Classified Compound – Undisclosed Location
A younger Julian Morello stood in front of a screen flashing the words: PHOENIX PROTOCOL: STAGE ONE INITIATION.
Don Morello's voice echoed in the room. "Legacy must be built with blood, Julian. Are you ready to erase history for the sake of the future?"
Julian hesitated. Just a flicker.
But someone else was in the room— Marco Romano.
And he was watching.
Present Day
Romano Estate – Private Study
Marco Romano threw the glass against the wall, shards scattering like secrets.
"She's alive," he growled. "She survived the vault."
His consigliere, Dante, flinched. "Sir, we didn't expect her to—"
"You don't expect a wildfire," Marco snapped. "You contain it. Or you burn with it."
He turned to a file pulled from a hidden drawer.
Inside: a photo of Isabella as a child… standing beside Julian Morello.
Dante looked stunned. "She knew him?"
"No," Marco said coldly. "She loved him."
Back at the Church
Adrian placed the flash drive in his pocket. "This isn't over. My father built that vault as a grave, but it's going to be a reckoning."
Isabella shook her head. "You still think this is about revenge?"
"What else could it be?"
She stepped closer, eyes searching his. "Julian didn't die for revenge. He died for truth."
Then something beeped.
Fast. Repeating.
Adrian's hand shot to his jacket—not his phone. A tracker. Active. Attached to the drive.
Isabella stared at it. "They know we're alive."
Adrian cursed, tossed the tracker down—and crushed it with his boot.
Too late.
Outside, black SUVs roared up the gravel path. Armed men poured out.
Adrian grabbed Isabella's hand. "We run. Now."
They bolted through the side of the church. Bullets shattered the stained glass behind them, raining saints onto the pews.
And from the lead SUV, a man stepped out—face in shadow.
But Adrian felt it.
His father had come to finish what the vault couldn't.