Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
LEVI
I grip the steering wheel tighter. The air in the car is tense, the anxiety about what’s about to happen flooding the space. Flynn sits in the back, jaw clenched, eyes stormy. Stone is next to him, his arm draped protectively around Flynn’s shoulders, radiating barely contained frustration. My jaw tightens. Mine—my instincts protest. I shouldn’t be jealous—Stone’s one of the good ones, steady and loyal. And Flynn? He needs that right now. Comfort. Stability. It still doesn’t stop the bitter twist in my gut. I wish it were me.
None of us wants our omega in danger. Not after everything he’s already survived. But the stubborn shit refused to stay home.
And honestly, I can’t blame him. Flynn’s got that fire in him—the kind that refuses to be snuffed out. I can’t wait to see him and Sasha together when Flynn’s more comfortable. Our beta and omega seem to have that in common—stubbornness that could move mountains. It’ll be something else to watch them side by side, unstoppable. For now, though, we’ve got a mission to pull off, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we all get through it alive.
“You sure about this? Will you please stay in the car when we get there?” Stone asks, his voice low.
“I’m not staying in the car,” Flynn replies, and there’s no room for argument.
“Flynn,” Sasha cuts in, her voice biting. “You’re the last person who should be walking into that place.”
Flynn straightens, brushing the sleep from his eyes. “And Allegra’s the last person who should still be in there. I’m not going to sit back and wait for you to fix this. She’s my sister. I’m going.”
Sasha looks like she’s about two seconds from throwing one of those knives straight at the windshield. “Flynn?—”
“I’m going,” Flynn snaps, his voice low but deadly.
Stone doesn’t speak, but I can see the tension in his jaw. I get it. We all do. Flynn’s been through hell and back because of Tom and his twisted foundation. Asking him to stay behind while we face it head-on is like asking a storm not to strike.
I rake a hand through my hair. “Then we’re doing this smart. You follow our lead. No hero shit.”
Flynn nods, but his face tells me he’ll push the limit if it means getting to Allegra.
We park a block away from the massage parlor, the neon glow of its tacky sign barely visible through the windshield. The Velvet Touch —what a joke. Behind that innocent front, Tom and his lackeys are running a nightmare. Allegra’s somewhere in there, and every minute we waste is a risk we can’t afford.
I pull up the floorplans. “Three entry points,” I say, my voice low. “Front entrance is the most obvious. They’ll be watching it. Rear access through the alley is a possibility, but we’re almost guaranteed to have eyes on us.” I tap the map. “Then there’s the side entrance. No cameras from what we can tell. That’s our best shot.”
Flynn leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “Which one’s closest to where Allegra might be?”
Stone’s voice rumbles from beside him. “Side entrance. Leads straight to the lower level. That’s where they keep the omegas according to my source.”
Flynn’s jaw clenches, but he nods. I know he’s thinking about Allegra.
“We’ll split up,” I continue, keeping my tone steady. “Stone and I will breach through the side. Sasha, you’ll cover Flynn. You two will take the alley entrance and push in from the back. We’ll converge in the center and sweep every room until we find her.”
Little Brat doesn’t hesitate. “I’ve got him.”
Flynn’s glare sharpens. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No one is going in alone,” I bark, the words coming out sharper than I intend. “You might hate it, but we’re not risking you. Sasha’s got your back, and that’s final. You’re the most comfortable with her, and she’ll stab anyone who gets close to you. And Stone has my back. We’re in this together.”
Flynn holds my gaze. For a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but then he just gives a curt nod. It’s not an agreement. It’s resignation.
Sasha shifts, flipping one of her knives with practiced ease. The metallic gleam catches the dim streetlight through the window. “Don’t be mad, Flynn. I’ve been known to spank as a babysitter.” She winks, and I wait for him to bristle at the mention of corporal punishment.
But Flynn just shakes his head, a low chuckle escaping him. “I’ll take my chances.”
Sasha’s smirk deepens, but her eyes harden as she twirls the blade once more. “What about Tom?” she asks, her voice dropping. “He won’t run. Not when he’s got all his men.”
I shake my head. “No. He’ll fight. He thinks he’s untouchable.” My fingers tighten around the map. “That’s his mistake.”
Stone pulls a bag from the floor of the car, reaching in and handing each of us a comm. We take them without a word, each of us slotting the earpieces into place, the low hum of the comms settling into our ears.
“Comms stay on,” Stone says firmly, meeting each of our eyes. “We move fast and clean. Get Allegra. End Tom’s operation. And no unnecessary risks.”
Flynn’s fists clench, but I catch the flicker of determination beneath his anger. He knows what’s at stake. We all do.
Stone claps him on the shoulder. “We’ve got this.”
Sasha gives a wicked grin, twirling her knife once more. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
Flynn doesn’t smile. Neither do I. But we all know how this ends.
And it won’t be Tom walking out alive.
"Let’s move," I say, pushing open the door of the car. My boots hit the pavement with a soft thud, and the others follow suit, all business.
Stone pulls out his weapon, checking it one last time as we make our way toward the side entrance of the parlor. The lights are low in this part of town, shadows stretching like dark fingers across the cracked sidewalks. The massage parlor looms ahead, quiet for now, but we both know that could change in an instant.
Stone and I move like shadows—silent, calculated. We hit the side door, and I give a sharp nod. Stone doesn't hesitate, pulling out a silenced pistol. He fumbles with the lockpick, the faint click barely audible in the silence. Once it gives, he pushes the door open just enough to slip inside, and we’re in.
The air is thick with the mingling scents of omega perfume—too many to count. It makes my stomach churn. Our footsteps are the only sound as we move deeper into the parlor. We stay close, covering each other’s movements, knowing that the moment we make a mistake, it could all come crashing down.
We reach the first door, and I feel the tension in my muscles as I glance at Stone. He gives a slight tilt of his head, signaling he’s ready.
The first guard is at the end of the hallway, his back to me. I don’t waste a second. A quick shot to the head, and he crumples without a sound. I step over him, my gun and silencer ready to track my next target.
I can’t help but think of Sasha and Flynn. I hope they're having as much luck as we are—clean shots, quiet takedowns, everything going according to plan. No one left to find us before we can do what we came here for. They're out there, somewhere, doing their part in this mess. I pray they're safe, that they’re not caught in the crossfire.
“We found the door that leads to the lower level,” I murmur through the comms, my voice barely above a whisper. "End of the back hall. Meet you down there."
Stone’s expression hardens, his face set in grim determination. He knows exactly what this means. The lower level is where things get dangerous, where Allegra is likely being held. We don’t have much time.
Stone approaches the door, checking it over for any sign of resistance. "I'll go first," he mutters. "You cover me."
I tighten the grip on my weapon, my eyes never leaving the door. Stone moves without a second thought. He slowly opens it, and we move in, fluid and silent.
The stairs creak beneath our boots, but we’re careful. At the bottom, a lobby-like area opens up before us. Low light casts long shadows, and I can see movement—guards patrolling the space, completely unaware of our presence.
Stone gives me a quick jerk of his head, signaling to take the guards on the left. I follow his lead, slipping out of the shadows to take out the first guard, a quiet shot to the head. He drops like a ragdoll, no sound except the faint thud of his body hitting the floor.
Stone takes out his target just as cleanly, moving with that practiced ease that makes it look almost effortless.
We make our way deeper into the lobby, but I can hear more guards approaching from the back. We don’t have much time before they realize something’s wrong.
“Stone, how many?” I murmur as my eyes scan the room.
“Two more in the hall, and another at the far end,” he responds. “We’ll take them together.”
We move in sync, sweeping the area with precision. Stone’s silencer clicks, and another body hits the floor. I’m right behind him, dispatching the next guard with a single shot.
The room is quiet again, the only sound the distant hum of machinery from deeper in the building. The way to Allegra is almost clear.
“We’re good,” Stone says, his voice low. “Let’s keep moving.”
We converge at the far side of the lobby, moving cautiously down the next hallway. But I know it’s only a matter of time before we encounter more resistance.
The seconds feel like hours, but we can’t afford to let our guard down. I push thoughts of Sasha and Flynn to the back of my mind, but I hope—more than anything—that they're staying ahead of the danger, just like we have.
The next door is locked. Stone pulls out his lock-picking kit with practiced ease, working quickly. The door creaks open. More rooms, more halls, but everything is quiet—too quiet.
We move further into the building, sweeping each room with precision. Each breath feels like it could echo in the silence, but it doesn’t. We’re ghosts. There’s no time to waste.
Stone catches my eye, a silent signal. We keep going, deeper into the maze, each step reverberating in our heads. But we’re not alone. The faintest sounds of movement filter through the air—guards, more of them.
“Get low,” Stone murmurs, and I follow his lead. We crouch, making our way down a narrow passage. A guard rounds the corner, and in one fluid motion, Stone’s knife is in his throat before he even has time to react. The man’s body falls silently.
The silence is broken only by the faintest sounds of muffled voices ahead. We’re getting close. I hold up my hand to signal Stone to stop. We’re almost there. Allegra’s just out of our reach now.
I whisper to Sasha and Flynn through the comms. “You two close?”
Sasha’s voice crackles in my ear. “We’re breaching the basement. You?”
“Already down here. Stay sharp.”
Stone gives me a brief glance of acknowledgment. We move forward, closing in on the heart of the building. Each door we pass has a deadbolt on the outside, designed to keep things in, not out. It’s a simple twist to unlock them, no resistance. Whoever set up this place clearly didn’t plan on anyone getting inside.
The door ahead swings open without a sound, revealing a room full of men. Not the targets we’re looking for, but they’ll be in the way.
Stone and I exchange glances, and without a word, we step into the room.
The fight is quick and clean. We take them out one by one, no gunfire—just the sound of bodies hitting the floor. We move through them like a well-oiled machine, never missing a beat.
The door behind us creaks open, and I don't need to turn to know who’s coming, the blood orange and lime scents give them away. Sasha and Flynn enter, and Sasha immediately fakes a pout.
"You had all the fun without us," she says, her voice teasing.
I grin, the tension easing just slightly. "You look like you had plenty of it yourself." Her shirt and face are splattered with blood.
Flynn’s voice shakes slightly as he answers, still catching his breath. "She's not good at the whole subtle thing. Once she starts stabbing, she doesn't stop."
Stone chuckles, shaking his head. "Remind me not to let her near my kitchen knives."
"Har har." Sasha narrows her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed.
I raise a hand to cut off the banter, the reality of the situation pressing in again. "Enough." My voice is low, focused. "This door should take us to the hall with all the rooms. Sasha, you and Flynn are on Allegra duty. Stone and I will free anyone else we come across—if there’s anyone else."
Sasha’s smile fading into something more serious. "Got it." Flynn gives a sharp nod as well, his eyes already scanning the hallway ahead.
It’s almost over. Almost.
Sasha and Flynn lead the way, quick and precise, checking each door without hesitation. With every room they open, my chest tightens. There's an omega here and there—some trembling, some too far gone to respond—but no sign of Allegra yet.
“Shh, you’re safe. We’re going to have someone come and get you. You’re free, just stay put until they get here. They’ll have a code word for you so you know who it is.” Sasha steps up closer to them. She’s less threatening than us as a beta.
Stone and I work methodically, moving from door to door, freeing the prisoners we find. The first room holds two women, both of them barely able to stand. They look up at us, eyes wide with fear, but their relief is palpable when they realize we're here to help.
"We're getting you out," I tell them, keeping my voice steady as I help one of them to her feet.
Stone’s already dealing with the second woman, his hands gentle despite the situation. His grim expression softens just a little as he reassures her. "It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now."
We move on to the next door. A man is inside, shackled to the wall, his eyes wild with panic. He doesn't trust us at first, but once he sees the guns, the professionalism in our movements, he nods wordlessly, allowing Stone to work on freeing him.
Sasha and Flynn have moved on by now, continuing down the hall. We hear them open another door, followed by the soft, shaky gasp of another omega. It's a repetitive pattern—no Allegra, just frightened people caught in the same hellish situation.
“Clear,” Sasha calls out. “Nothing yet.”
Flynn's voice follows closely behind. "Same here. No sign of Allegra."
I glance at Stone, who smirks before moving to the next room. The time is ticking, but we can’t afford to rush. Not now. Not when there are still lives at stake.
Sasha opens another door and whispers,“Stay here until we come back.” I raise my eyebrow, confused by who she’s talking about, but it will have to wait until later to ask her.
Stone and I move to the next room. It’s not Allegra, but it’s a step closer. A man, bruised and bloodied, sits in the corner. I don’t know who he is, but the look of relief on his face tells me he’s been waiting for this moment.
"We'll get you out," I assure him as Stone cuts through the chains holding him.
As we work through the next few rooms, the tension rises. No Allegra. No sign of her. But we’re not stopping. Not until we find her.
The last door. My heart races as we approach. The door creaks open just a fraction, and I can see them—a group of armed men, all surrounding Allegra. She’s kneeling on the floor, a look of desperation in her eyes, and my blood runs cold.
Our presence is revealed the moment we step inside. Tom stands at the center of the room, the knife pressed to Allegra’s throat, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. Behind him, a group of armed men fills the space, ready for a fight.
"Don’t make a move, Allegra," Tom sneers, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "You’re not going anywhere. Not while I'm here."
But that doesn’t matter.
Stone’s eyes flick to mine. His jaw clenches, and in an instant, the plan goes into motion.
Before any of us can hesitate, Stone is already moving. A silenced shot rings out, and one of the guards drops instantly, his body crumpling to the floor with a thud.
Sasha is right behind him with her knife out. She takes down another man in one smooth motion, the blade slicing across his throat with surgical precision. The man doesn’t even have time to scream as he falls to the ground, blood pooling around him.
Stone doesn’t wait. Another shot, another guard down. The bullet slams into the man’s chest, and he collapses without a sound, eyes wide with shock.
I’m already moving, my gun raised, my target clear. The third guard goes down with a clean shot to the head. No hesitation. No warning. Just the sound of a bullet finding its mark.
Sasha is a blur, darting forward, her knife slicing through the air again. Another guard drops to the floor, her blade cutting across his throat with practiced ease. His body falls with the finality of a man who knows his time has run out.
Stone and I move in tandem, clearing out the last two guards in a rapid, synchronized fashion. Gunfire erupts, and the last of Tom’s men crumple to the floor. Silence falls over the room.
But we don’t stop. We can’t stop. Our eyes snap toward Tom, who hasn’t moved. He still holds Allegra, the knife pressed firmly to her throat. And then we hear it—his voice, sneering as if he’s already won.
"Well, well." Tom’s voice drips with mock amusement. "Look at you. You think you’ve won? That’s adorable. You’re all the same—omega trash. Just puppets for me to control."
Flynn steps forward, his fists clenched, his voice shaking with fury. "You don’t get to control anyone anymore, Tom. You never did. You manipulated and abused them. You’re nothing but a monster."
Tom’s eyes narrow, and his grip on Allegra tightens. "That’s what omegas are for," he spits, the words full of venom. "I had the perfect system—until you had to go and find your Kismets, Flynn. It ruined everything."
Flynn’s rage boils over. "You’re sick. You’ve always been sick!" His voice cracks with emotion, raw and full of years of pain.
Tom laughs, cruel and mocking. "You’re sick. You’ve always been sick, meh meh meh,” He mimics Flynn’s words. Tom thinks he’s untouchable. But he doesn’t see my beta—doesn’t see how close she is, creeping behind him, silent as a shadow.
Flynn spits at Tom’s shoes, his voice trembling but defiant. "Enjoy hell, Tom," he says, and I know this is the moment.
Without a sound, Sasha strikes. Her blade slides smoothly across Tom’s neck, and his cruel laughter turns to a strangled gurgle as blood pours from the wound. He jerks forward, but it’s too late. His body collapses, lifeless, onto the floor.
The room falls into a thick silence, broken only by the distant hum of the building. Tom’s men are dead, his VP gone, and Tom himself is no more.
Sasha wipes her knife clean, her expression unreadable but for the faint smirk that tugs at her lips.
Flynn falls to his knees beside Allegra, his hands trembling as he brushes her hair away from her face. "It’s over," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
Stone looks at me, his gaze steady. We’ve done it. The war is over.
Sasha chuckles lightly, her voice holding a touch of dark humor. "We won! Now we’re done," she says, but there’s no real celebration in it.
The war may be over, but the aftermath is there, lingering. Still, we’ve won.