Kanyan (Gatti Enforcers #1)

24. Kanyan

24

KANYAN

I don’t say anything as I bury my dick deep inside her. I lose myself in her completely, the world fading to nothing but Lula beneath me. She clutches at my back, her nails digging into my skin as she gasps, “Deeper.” Her words ignite something primal in me, and I give her everything, driving into her with a fierce rhythm that matches the wild beat of my heart. Her body moves against mine, every breath, every moan pulling me further under her spell. She’s my undoing, and I don’t want to be saved.

When her body tightens around me, I’m gone, lost in the feel of her. A guttural roar escapes me as my climax crashes through, raw and consuming. Her soft cries, the way her body trembles with her release, only fuel the fire burning inside me.

I pull her close, wrapping her in my arms, her head resting against my chest. Her breathing slows, matching the steady thrum of my heartbeat. I brush a hand over her hair, memorizing the way she feels against me, as if I could hold onto this moment forever. Just a little longer, I tell myself. Just one more second before the weight of our world pulls us apart again.

Lula is asleep when I slip out of bed, leaving her warmth behind. Her scent clings to me, her touch still buzzing under my skin. I shouldn’t linger, but I do, brushing a hand over her hair. She stirs for just a second, murmuring my name, and it’s enough to anchor me. For her, I’ll burn the world down if I have to. But right now, I’ve got a traitor to deal with.

By the time I step into the scrapyard, the sky is heavy with storm clouds, a fitting backdrop for the chaos brewing inside me. The men are already here, gathered in a loose circle. Their faces are tense, some grim, others curious. But all of them are waiting for me to deliver judgment.

Ezio Canalli sits slumped in the back of a rusted sedan, his hands weakly banging on the windows. He knows what’s coming, and the sight of his fear feeds the fury roaring through my veins. My hands curl into fists at my sides as I stalk forward, each step deliberate, each step reminding him that he’s made the worst mistake of his life. Betrayal doesn’t get a slap on the wrist here. It gets annihilation.

I raise a hand, signaling Paulie to hold. The crane carrying the car stops midair, leaving Ezio suspended like prey dangling above the jaws of a predator. The traitor’s screams are muffled by the car’s frame, but his panic is clear enough. He pounds harder against the glass, his voice shrill and cracking, as though someone might save him. No one will.

Turning to face my men, I pace in front of them, the weight of their stares on me. They need to see this. They need to know what happens to anyone who crosses me. “Let me tell you all a story,” I begin, my voice cutting through the yard. “Ezio here thought he could play both sides. He fed intel to the Kadri family. Secrets about our operations, our finances. The kind of information that put every single one of you at risk.”

I stop, letting the weight of my words sink in. “While you were out there risking your lives for this family, he was putting a knife in your backs. And what did we get in return? A rival family breathing down our necks. Financial losses. Blood spilled. His betrayal isn’t just about money—it’s about trust. He betrayed his brothers. His blood.”

The men shift uneasily, the gravity of the situation pressing down on them. I step closer to the men, my gaze unwavering. “I made Ezio a promise,” I say, my voice low but sharp. “I told him I wouldn’t touch his family if he came clean. And I’m keeping that promise. His family’s safe. But Ezio? He’s not so lucky.”

I turn back to the men, my gaze hard as steel. “This is your warning. Your first and only. Betray this family, and I’ll do more than end you. I’ll erase your name, your bloodline, your existence. If you think you can’t give me your loyalty, leave now. Walk away without consequence. But if you stay, you’d better be damn sure where you stand.”

The men glance at each other, some shifting uncomfortably, others standing straighter, resolved. I let the silence stretch, making sure my words have hit their mark. Then, I raise my hand again. “Paulie,” I say, my voice like a blade. “Let it roll.”

The crane jerks into motion, carrying the car toward the compactor. Ezio’s screams rise in pitch, frantic and desperate, but they do nothing to soften the fire in my chest. He’s clawing at the windows now, his movements wild, his fear palpable. But fear doesn’t change the facts. He chose this when he decided to lay his hands on Lula.

The car is dropped into the compactor with a metallic thud, and the machine roars to life. It groans and creaks as it begins to crush the vehicle, the frame twisting and collapsing with a deafening screech. The men flinch, some looking away, but I don’t. I watch every second, my jaw tight, my hands steady. This is what loyalty demands.

When the machine spits out the compressed cube of metal, I turn back to my men. “This is what happens to traitors,” I say, my voice carrying over the yard. “Remember it. Because I won’t repeat myself.”

A few men step back, fear etched into their faces. Others stay rooted in place, their expressions a mix of respect and caution. I scan the crowd, noting who flinches, who stands tall, who looks like they’re calculating their chances. It’s a reminder that not everyone here is loyal. But those who aren’t will weed themselves out soon enough.

“The amnesty lasts two hours,” I announce. “If you’re not back at the estate by tonight, I’ll take it to mean you’re done. No hard feelings. But if you’re still here tomorrow, you’re all in. And there will be no second chances.”

I turn on my heel and head for the car, my anger simmering beneath the surface. This was necessary. For the family. For Lula. For me. But as I slide into the driver’s seat and grip the wheel, I can’t shake the clawing thought that this rage, this darkness, might someday cost me the only thing I truly care about. And that’s a price I can’t afford to pay.

The silence in the room is heavy, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. My hands rest on the edge of the table, fingers splayed against the wood. It’s not steady. Not even close. But my mind? It’s sharper than ever.

We lost a few men today. Good men. This is the cost of running an empire built on blood and loyalty. We don’t live in a world of forgiveness. There’s no room for weakness or misplaced trust. When one man falls out of line, it creates a ripple that could bring us all crashing down.

I glance out the window. The sky is bruised with the deep hues of dusk, the horizon swallowing what little light is left. Mason and Jayson stand just outside, their shadows tall against the last slivers of sunlight. They're always there—my constant, my brothers in this war. They don’t flinch when things get messy. And today? Today was messy.

The scrapyard is quiet now. The traitor—Ezio Canalli—is long gone, his screams nothing more than an echo in the backs of our minds. The compactor did its job. It sent a message. One no one here will forget anytime soon.

I lean back in my chair, exhaling sharply, and rub the tension from my temples. My men—they’re loyal. For the most part. But there’s always a risk, always someone who thinks they can outsmart the system. Ezio thought he could get away with feeding Derin Kadri’s cousin information. He thought he could play both sides. He thought wrong.

The door creaks open, and Lula steps in. She’s wearing one of my shirts—it hangs loose on her small frame, but somehow she makes it look better than anything tailored ever could. Her hair is a mess, tumbling around her shoulders, and her face is soft, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

“You’re brooding again,” she says, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe.

“I’m always brooding,” I shoot back, though there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

“Fair,” she admits, walking closer. Her gaze flicks to the window, then back to me. “It’s over?”

I know what she’s asking. She wants to know if I lost myself in the darkness today, if I let the blood and betrayal consume me. She never says it outright, but I can see the question written all over her face.

“It’s done,” I say simply.

She sighs, stepping closer, her hands brushing against the edge of the table before sliding over mine. Her touch is light but grounding, tethering me to something better.

“You always say that, but I know it’s never really done,” she murmurs, her voice soft but firm. “Kanyan, this life—this world—it doesn’t give you peace. It only takes.”

Her words hit me harder than I want to admit. I stand, closing the space between us, and tilt her chin up so she’s looking right at me. Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I see the worry she tries so hard to hide.

“I know what it takes,” I tell her. “But I also know what it gives.”

She frowns, and I brush a thumb over her bottom lip.

“It gave me you, Lula. And as long as I have you, I can handle the rest.”

Her breath catches, and for a second, I think she might argue. But then she presses her forehead against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close.

I don’t know how long we stand there, but it feels like forever and not nearly long enough. The world is quiet again, at least for now. But I know it won’t last. It never does.

“Come on,” I say finally, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Her lips curve into a small smile, but there’s a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Are you going to get all bossy on me again?”

I laugh, the sound low and rough, and tug her toward the door. “There’s no other way I can be with you, little dancer.”