Chapter 35
thirty-five
KITANIA
The penthouse was wrapped in a gentle hush—not silence, but stillness. The fragrance of vanilla and sugar still lingered in the air from the cheesecake I’d baked that afternoon, though it felt like a lifetime ago. Outside, night had taken hold, the city lights coming alive and glittering through the sheer curtains we’d pulled closed, wanting privacy, wanting solace.
We’d all gathered in the living room, seeking comfort in each other after everything that had happened. My body ached, but the pain had dulled to a manageable throb beneath the medication Tommy had given me. More potent than any painkiller, though, was the overwhelming sense of safety that came from being surrounded by my four Alphas—my mates, my protectors, my home.
The war was over, and with it came a bone-deep peace.
Marco’s head rested heavily on my lap, his eyes half-lidded as my fingers combed through his light brown hair. Each time I scraped my nails gently against his scalp, he made a low sound of contentment in the back of his throat. The weight of him, solid and warm against me, was grounding.
“You’re gonna put me to sleep if you keep that up, Angel,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting in a lazy smile.
I continued the motion, watching as his eyelids drooped further. “Would that be so bad?”
“After today? Probably not.”
On the opposite end of the sectional, Tommy sat with his legs stretched out, his feet nearly touching Marco’s. He’d picked up one of my favorite romance paperbacks from the side table and was flipping through it with curious interest, pausing occasionally to read passages that caught his eye.
“Did you know,” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence, “that this guy in your book has—and I quote—’eyes like molten amber that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns’?” He grinned, dimples flashing as he met my gaze. “How does that even work? Wouldn’t that just make him look constipated?”
The laugh that bubbled out of me was unexpected, almost jarring after everything, but it felt good. Healing. “Don’t judge my steamy romance novels.”
“Oh, I’m not judging,” Tommy replied, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m taking notes.” He winked at me before returning to the book, his smile softening the edges of his lingering worry. It was so like him to lighten the mood with humor and playfulness, but I still felt the rawness of the day, saw how he continuously peeked over the pages to check on me. As if reassuring himself I was still there. Still safe.
From the kitchen came the gentle clink of porcelain. Gio moved with surprising grace for a man his size, preparing a cup of tea exactly how I liked it—three spoonfuls of sugar with a splash of milk. Though focused on his task, his hazel eyes had barely left me since we’d settled in the living room. It was as if he feared I might disappear if he looked away for too long.
“You don’t have to keep watching me,” I said softly. “I’m right here.”
Gio’s expression remained serious. “Humor me, little Omega.”
I nestled deeper into Dimitri’s side, and the arm he had slung around my shoulders tightened. His phone remained clutched in his hand, though it had stopped buzzing hours ago. Deep lines of exhaustion and stress etched his face, but the fierce protectiveness in his eyes hadn’t diminished. His fingers skimmed along my arm, and he automatically turned his nose into my hair, breathing me in, pulling me endlessly closer against his solid warmth.
The clock on the wall read 2:17 AM, though the hour didn’t fully register—time had unraveled completely somewhere between the adrenaline crash and the warmth of my pack holding me close, helping me heal.
I’d never forget the gentle way they’d cared for me in the aftermath—like the way Gio had helped me shower. His large hands had been impossibly tender as he washed away the blood and grime, his eyes never straying despite my nakedness. Just a warm gaze, steady hands, and a low, constant stream of reassurances that held me together when everything inside me was threatening to unravel.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, over and over. “You’re safe now.”
Marco had carefully dried and brushed out my hair afterward, his deft fingers working through the tangles with patience and skill. He’d braided it loosely to keep it from my face, murmuring the same reassurances as his brothers.
“It’s over, Angel. No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” he’d promised, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head when he’d finished.
Tommy had been the one to treat my wounds, applying antiseptic and bandages with a gentleness that made my heart ache. He’d been so careful not to cause me any more pain, kissing each spot before moving on to the next. That lightheartedness I loved had been set aside, replaced by fierce concentration as he’d carefully iced the worst of my bruises.
“These will heal,” he’d promised. “All of it will heal, Kit.”
And Dimitri—my stoic, powerful Alpha—had shouldered the burden of dealing with the aftermath. He’d made the calls, issued the orders, updated his father, orchestrated the cleanup, all while shielding me from the details that would bring the night flooding right back. He’d only left my side when absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d made sure one of the others was with me—never letting me out of their sight.
“You don’t need to worry about anything else,” he’d told me, his deep voice a rumble against my ear. “I’m taking care of all of it. Just rest now, Kitten.”
Even Beretta, who was recovering from being poisoned with Ibuprofen, had done his fair share of cuddling, helping to ease my jangled nerves. My boy was a fighter through and through, and thankfully, the dose he’d been given wasn’t lethal. After a thorough visit with the vet, some activated charcoal, and a bag of fluids, he’d been allowed to come home. A few days and he’d be back to normal, ready to play ball and go for walks to his heart’s content.
Surrounded by all my boys—my Alphas, my dog, my whole damn heart—I finally felt like I could truly, fully exhale.
Gio brought me the steaming cup of tea, and his fingers brushed mine in the handoff. The simple touch was grounding, settling, and I gave him a smile I hoped reached my eyes. Taking the spot on the floor in front of me, he leaned back, resting against my knees.
I cradled the warm mug in one hand, refusing to stop stroking Marco’s hair. Dipping my head, I inhaled the calming scent of chamomile before taking a sip. The warm liquid sluiced down my throat, bolstering me enough to ask the question I’d been holding back all night.
“Did you find out anything else about Enzo?”
The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately. Marco’s body tensed in my lap. Tommy stopped turning pages. Gio’s shoulders stiffened against my knees. Dimitri’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on my arm.
“What about him?” Marco’s voice had an edge to it now.
I swallowed hard. “Is he...” I couldn’t finish the question.
I knew there was no way he could’ve survived the fall, but I needed to hear it, anyway. The heavy silence that followed told me everything I needed to know. My chest constricted with a confusing mixture of grief and relief. Enzo had betrayed us all, had been working for Rocco, had put me in danger—but in the end, he’d saved me. The contradiction left me feeling hollow.
Dimitri’s thumb stroked a gentle pattern against my arm. After a long moment, he nodded toward his phone.
“He left something,” Dimitri told me. “A voice text. It came through while we were in the car racing to get to you. I only saw it when we got home.”
My heart stuttered. “A message?”
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked, his brown eyes searching mine. “You don’t have to.”
I nodded, setting my tea aside. “Yes. I need to know.”
Dimitri hesitated, then looked at his brothers. Each gave a small nod of agreement. He tapped at his phone, navigating to the message, then placed it on the coffee table in front of us. His finger hovered over the play button for a second before pressing it.
Enzo’s voice filled the room. It was strained, breathless, as if he’d been running—hiding.
“D, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.” A ragged breath. “You’re probably already on your way to the warehouse, and if you’re hearing this, I hope to God you find her in time.”
My throat tightened at the raw emotion in his voice. Marco’s hand found mine, squeezing tightly.
“I didn’t know how deep I was until it was too late,” Enzo continued. “Started with gambling. Stupid fucking poker games in one of Rocco’s dens. I lost big—more than I could pay back. I kept trying to win more, to dig myself out, but I just made it worse. He had me by the balls, man. Said he’d forget the debt if I fed him information. Just small stuff at first, nothing that seemed important. Then it was bigger things, and by then...” A harsh laugh that sounded more like a sob. “By then I was in too deep. I tried to say no, but then he killed Nick to warn me about what happens to guys who cross him. It was my fault that my friend—” he inhaled, sounding ragged, and he didn’t finish the thought. “I couldn’t come to you. He had shit on me that would’ve gotten me killed ten times over.”
Tommy sat up and closed the book, setting it aside. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. His playfulness had vanished, replaced by a hard stare fixed on the phone as if it were Enzo himself.
“I made the wrong choice. I know that. I’ve lived with that guilt every single day. I know people have died because of me. Been hurt because of me—like Tommy. Like you. Fuck, even Beretta. They took a shot at your Omega because of intel I gave them and I— shit . I never meant for that to happen. Didn’t know they planned to kill her just to get to you.” Enzo’s voice cracked. “And Kit—fuck, I never wanted to hurt her. Especially once I got to know her. She’s... she’s something else, you know? Sweet and tough at the same time. The way she looks at you guys... I didn’t think people could love like that anymore.”
I felt tears burning behind my eyes. Gio reached up, taking my hand from Marco and pressing his lips to my knuckles in silent support.
“I knew helping Rocco was signing my soul away,” Enzo admitted. “But I didn’t know how to get out. Not until...” Movement sounded through the line, as if he’d pulled the phone away only to bring it back. This time, his voice was laced with regret. “Not until Kit looked at me tonight like I was nothing. Like I’d broken something that could never be fixed. That was the moment it broke me, too.”
A muffled sound of pain came through the speaker. It was mine as Rocco threw me to the ground after catching me in his twisted maze.
I winced.
“He’s gonna kill her, man. And I can’t… I can’t let her die.” Enzo’s voice was quieter now. “Can’t stand here and watch it happen. I can’t fix what I did. Can’t erase the shit I’ve done or piece back together the lives I’ve fucked up. But I’m going to stop this. I’m gonna keep her safe. And hopefully you’ll all be safe after this, too.”
A pause, filled only with his labored breathing.
“She’s perfect for you. All of you. Take care of each other.”
The message ended with a finality that echoed through the room. The silence that followed was heavy—but not crushing. Just... real . The weight of his confession, his regret, his sacrifice hung in the air between us.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the warm slide of tears down my cheeks. Dimitri reached over, brushing them away with his thumb.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “About the gambling, about Rocco blackmailing him.”
“None of us did,” Tommy said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. “He hid it well.”
“If we had, we could’ve helped,” Marco added.
Gio’s grip on my hand tightened. “He made his choices. Really fuckin’ bad ones.”
“But in the end...” I couldn’t finish the thought.
“In the end, he made the right one,” Dimitri completed for me. His expression was complicated, grief and anger warring in his eyes. “Enzo wasn’t the man we thought we knew. Not for a long time. But the one who saved you, who gave up his own life to right a wrong? That was the friend we grew up with.”
Marco shifted, sitting up to look at me directly. “We hadn’t realized he’d lost himself somewhere over the years. That’s on us, too.”
Deep down, I knew they’d never forgive him for endangering me. For causing the family so much pain. For the lives he’d destroyed. For the people he’d hurt. For almost killing our dog. For breaking the trust they’d placed in him. He’d committed so, so many wrongs against us.
But I also knew, somewhere behind all the anger, they would always be grateful that, in the end, he’d made a choice that spared my life.
A last-minute atonement for the sins he’d committed, if that were even possible.
Conflicting emotions filled the room—anger, so much anger, at his betrayal, sadness for the friend they’d lost, relief that I was safe, gratitude that it was all over. It was too much and not enough all at once. I felt it all mirrored in my own heart, radiating from each of their bonds, this tangled mess of feelings that would take time to unravel.
But time was something we had now. Time to heal. Time to comfort each other. Time to be a pack, a family.
“I’m free now,” I told them softly, the realization sweeping over me like a warm summer breeze. “We all are.”
Marco brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering on my cheek. “Yeah, Angel. We are.”
Gio kissed my knuckles again, his lips warm against my skin. “No more looking over our shoulders.”
Tommy was already up and rounding the couch to stand behind me, needing to be closer. His fingers played through my hair, and he kissed the crown of my head. “Just us now. Our pack.”
Dimitri’s arms tightened around me, drawing me closer to his chest. I turned my face up to his, meeting his intense gaze. The love I saw there stole my breath. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his in a gentle kiss. He responded immediately, his hand coming up to cradle the back of my head, deepening the contact for just a moment before pulling back.
I breathed deep, soaking in the feel of home. Of understanding. Safety. Family. Love. It was all here, wrapped around me in the forms of these four men who hadn’t hesitated to risk everything to save me, who had brought me into their world and made me the center of it.
Reaching out, I found Gio’s hand again, threading my fingers through his and holding on tight, just as I’d done since the day we met. Just as I would do every day for the rest of our forever.
His gaze met mine, raw with emotion. “You’re mine, little Omega.”
“And you’re mine, Alpha,” I whispered back, squeezing his hand before looking to the others. “Each and every one of you.”
The road ahead wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses. There’d be rainstorms and shadows, moments when the memories would crash back or life would give us new challenges. But I hadn’t been made to break. I was stronger than I’d ever realized.
And I wasn’t alone anymore.
I had my men. My Alphas. My pack.
And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever came next, we’d face it together.