Chapter 29 #2
I cut her off with a single, quiet word that slices right through the ambient noise of the warehouse. I don’t look at Luca. I don’t look at Pietro, or the Russian shadows standing just behind them. My eyes stay locked on hers, absorbing every bruise, every scratch, anchoring her to me.
"Stop talking," I murmur softly.
Then, I finally turn my gaze to Luca. There’s no grand hesitation, no dramatic internal debate. The Gallo empire is a mountain of blood, concrete, and billions of dollars, and it meant absolutely nothing to me if she’s not there.
"Take the business," I say, my voice deadpan, devoid of a single ounce of regret. "She's mine. The rest is yours."
The illusion of Luca's control shatters the second the words leave my mouth.
His smug grin falters, his posture freezing as the weight of my indifference sinks in. He had prepared for a negotiation. He expected me to bargain, to rage, to scramble for a compromise that saves both my pride and my woman.
He built his entire trap on the assumption that power is my oxygen. He doesn't realize that if anyone can use Sienna as leverage against me and live to brag about it, the empire isn't worth the concrete it is built on.
"Fine," Luca says, recovering quickly, though his eyes narrow with suspicion. He gestures to the paperwork resting on a rusted crate. "You sign over every sector, every shell company, and every route. Once the transfers clear, you take her and you disappear from this city."
"No! What the fuck are you doing, Luca?"
Pietro’s voice explodes through the damp warehouse, raw and frantic. He steps forward, his face flushing an ugly, mottled red as he looks between Luca and me. "That isn't the goddamn plan! We don't let him walk. We don't let either of them walk!"
Luca doesn't turn around, his voice dropping an octave. "Pietro, shut your mouth. We get the empire without firing a single shot. That's a win."
"A win for you!" Pietro snarls, his control completely snapping.
The desperation to see me ruined has poisoned his mind for years, and watching me give it away so easily breaks him.
"I didn't risk everything just to watch him retire to some paradise with his whore!
I want him dead. I want him under the dirt, gone for good! "
"Pietro, back down," Luca orders, his tone sharpening as he finally turns to face him.
But Pietro is past the point of reason. His chest heaves, his eyes wide and bloodshot as the reality of his own irrelevance stares him in the face.
"No," Pietro hisses.
With a frantic, jerky motion, his hand flies to his waistband. Metal flashes in the weak light as he whips out his gun, the barrel trembling as he aims it straight at my chest.
Everything else happens in a flash.
The fragile illusion of a negotiation shatters completely, and the warehouse erupts into pure, unadulterated violence. The sharp crack of Pietro's outburst signals the ambush.
Gunfire splinters the concrete pillars as Luca's men scramble to open fire, but my men are already moving. They pour in from their hidden positions like shadows bleeding out of the walls.
Valerio leads the charge, a blur of lethal precision as he cuts down three guards before they can even chamber a round. The air turns thick with the smell of sulfur, dirt, and blood.
But my eyes never leave the center of the room, where Sienna is. I reach for her, carrying her away from the melee.
“Pietro and Luca are getting away,” she yells at me. “Go! Go!”
I set her down in the far corner, away from the violence, making sure she’s safe.
“Stay here,” I tell her. “I’ll be back. Shout for me if you’re in danger.”
“Okay. Now go.”
Without hesitation, I return to the bloodshed. I don't care about the crossfire; I go straight for Luca and Pietro.
Pietro panics. Seeing the tide turn in a matter of seconds, he stumbles backward, his trembling gun swinging away from me and down toward Sienna. He tries to use her as a human shield one last time.
He never gets the chance.
Rage burns away the icy calm, driving me forward with blinding speed.
I reach him before his finger can even tighten on the trigger.
My blade sinks deep into his throat, choking out his final breath before he can even scream.
I twist the metal, making sure he feels every ounce of the price for putting his filthy hands on her, then drop his lifeless body to the floor.
Ahead of me, Luca watches his brother fall, and something snaps inside him.
He attacks me with the desperation of a man who realizes he is losing everything.
He lunges, furious, swinging wildly as his empire crumbles around him.
It is a brutal, chaotic grapple, but desperation is no match for execution.
I block his strike, throw him against a rusted steel support beam, and pin him there.
He gasps for air, blood spitting from his lips, staring into my eyes and finally seeing his own death.
"You lost," I whisper, leaning in close so he can hear me over the gunfire fading into the background. "You lost the very second you thought Sienna was just leverage."
I drive the blade home, ending the Gallo civil war right there against the concrete.
Across the room, the remaining Kuznetsov men try to retreat into the shadows, but Valerio and our men close the exits. Within seconds, the final echoes of gunfire die down, leaving nothing but the heavy silence of the dead.
I don't give the carnage a second glance.
I drop the blade and move to Sienna immediately. My knees hit the dusty concrete right beside her. My hands, still slick with Luca's blood, are steady as I pull a knife and slice through the thick zip-ties cutting into her wrists.
"Sienna," I breathe, the name a jagged exhale.
I cup her face, my thumbs gently brushing past the dirt and the dark bruise swelling along her jawline. I check her over with frantic, sweeping movements—scanning for deep wounds, making sure she is whole, making sure she is still breathing.
Her frame shakes against the cold floor, her eyes wide and wet, but she is alive.
The terror in her gaze melts the moment she looks at me, and she collapses forward.
I pull her tightly into my arms, burying my face in her hair, and hold her so close that the ragged beat of her heart thumps against my own chest.
"I've got you," I murmur, my voice raw. "You're safe."
Over her shoulder, I look up at Valerio, who stands in the center of the warehouse wiping a splash of crimson from his cheek. He meets my gaze and nods once, understanding the unspoken command before I even speak it.
"Handle the bodies," I tell him, my voice returning to that icy, absolute authority. "Clean up the remaining men. Burn it all to the ground."
"Consider it done," Valerio replies, turning to direct our men.
I don't look back at Luca's corpse. I don't look at Pietro.
The Gallo war, the empire, the betrayal—it all fades into irrelevance.
Slipping one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, I lift Sienna into my arms. She clings to my neck, hiding her face in my shoulder as I carry her out of the warehouse, leaving the bloodbath and the ghosts of my past behind us in the dark.