Chapter 20
twenty
. . .
The Corsini delegation commanded the far side of the Vitale boardroom with an aura of contained power.
Antonio Corsini—broad-shouldered, with the calculating precision of a natural predator in his steel-gray eyes—leaned forward with the casual confidence of a man who controlled four city districts and had personally eliminated three rival families.
Stefano studied him with the detached assessment of one apex predator evaluating another.
The Corsini family's rise had been meteoric and bloody—exactly the kind of expansion that warranted both respect and caution.
In another life, under different circumstances, they might have been allies instead of circling each other for territorial dominance.
"Twenty percent of the western territories seems reasonable compensation," Antonio stated, voice carrying the quiet authority of a man accustomed to having his commands obeyed.
His tailored Brioni suit accentuated powerful shoulders and a physique maintained through more than just expensive gym sessions.
The scars on his knuckles spoke of a leader who still occasionally handled problems personally.
"Given the… adjustments your expansion has required in our operations. "
Marco chuckled softly beside Stefano, the sound containing no warmth as he leaned forward to refill his espresso with deliberate slowness.
The movement caused Antonio's personal guard—a massive beta with eyes that had witnessed more death than most career soldiers—to shift almost imperceptibly, hand moving closer to what was undoubtedly a custom weapon beneath his jacket.
"Adjustments," Marco repeated, tasting the word like fine wine before discarding it. "Is that what we're calling territorial incursion now? Fascinating how language evolves in our profession."
Matteo remained silent at Stefano's left, his amber eyes cataloging every micro-expression that crossed the Corsinis' faces. His stillness was more threatening than Marco's theatrical display—a predator so confident in his position that movement was unnecessary.
Stefano allowed silence to stretch, watching Antonio absorb it without visible discomfort.
The man's composure was impressive—one of many reasons the Corsini family had survived where others had fallen.
This meeting was merely a formality—a gesture of respect to old alliances before boundaries were re-established.
His mind drifted briefly to the extraction scheduled for tomorrow, to Leo's sleep-flushed face on the surveillance feed last night, to the plans already in motion to bring the omega to where he belonged.
"The western territories," Stefano finally said, his voice carrying the quiet authority that had made hardened criminals prostrate themselves before him, "are not negotiable.
Neither is your continued operation within our sphere of influence, should you persist in overstepping boundaries that were made abundantly clear. "
Antonio's mouth curved in what might have been amusement or annoyance—the two often indistinguishable in men of their position. "Clarity is subjective in our business, Vitale. Today's boundary becomes tomorrow's opportunity."
The tension in the room crystallized into something dangerous and electric, alpha pheromones thickening the air as both men assessed each other's resolve.
In another context, this would be foreplay—dominant alphas establishing hierarchy before claiming territory.
The sexual undertone wasn't lost on anyone present, least of all Stefano's brothers, who shifted subtly in their seats.
Before Stefano could respond, his phone vibrated with a pattern that made his spine straighten imperceptibly. Three short pulses, one long—the emergency signal from Leo's security detail.
Without breaking eye contact with Antonio, he removed his phone, glancing down with calculated casualness that belied the surge of alpha rage at the text message glowing on the screen.
IMMEDIATE: Hostile forces approaching cottage. Multiple armed targets. Security team engaging. Extraction protocol initiated.
Beneath the table, Stefano's hand clenched into a fist hard enough for tendons to stand out like steel cables under his skin.
The meeting, the Corsini delegation, the territorial disputes—everything disappeared beneath the roaring in his blood, the primal howl of an alpha whose territory had been violated, whose mate was threatened.
"Gentlemen." Stefano stood, buttoning his suit jacket with the deliberate calm of a predator preparing to strike. "We'll have to continue this discussion another time. Something requiring my immediate attention has arisen."
Antonio's eyes narrowed fractionally, his expression betraying nothing but his body language shifting to something more alert, more dangerous. "We've barely begun—"
"And yet we're finished." Stefano's tone dropped to that register that had made men soil themselves in terror. "My consigliere will see you out."
He strode from the room without another glance, Marco and Matteo falling into step beside him with practiced synchronicity. The moment the boardroom door closed behind them, Stefano's mask of civility dropped, replaced by lethal focus.
"Giovanni!" His command echoed down the marble hallway, summoning the head of security who appeared within seconds, tablet already extended.
"Live feed from the cottage perimeter," Giovanni reported, face grim as Stefano took the tablet. "Our team reports fifteen-plus hostiles, professional grade. Military or private contractors."
The screen showed thermal imagery of figures moving through the woods surrounding Leo's cottage, their tactical formation speaking of professional training.
Stefano's jaw clenched hard enough for a muscle to tick beneath the skin as a section of footage showed a security guard's body dragged into the underbrush.
"Mobilize the helicopter," Stefano ordered, his vision already edging crimson at the thought of unknown alphas approaching what was his. "Full tactical team. Heavy weapons. Tell the pilot we fly regardless of weather conditions."
"Already done, boss," Giovanni confirmed, studying the tactical feed on his tablet. "Our perimeter team reports movement in the outer forest—professional formation, attempting to approach under cover. Our men are engaging quietly. So far, the cottage remains secure and unaware."
Stefano nodded once, the information offering cold comfort as they strode toward the elevator.
The early morning surveillance feed on Giovanni's tablet showed the cottage still quiet, the sun just beginning to filter through trees and cast golden light across the clearing.
Leo was still asleep, still unaware of the danger circling his sanctuary.
But that could change in seconds if these unknown hostiles breached the final security perimeter.
"Origin?" Matteo demanded.
"Unknown," Giovanni admitted, matching Stefano's pace. "No identifying markings or known communication protocols. They're using encrypted channels we haven't seen before."
"Old enemies," Marco said, all playfulness evaporated, his expression the cold mask that had earned him his reputation. "Kenji kept that boy hidden for years. Someone finally found him."
The elevator ascended toward the rooftop helipad, the morning sunlight streaming through reinforced glass. The city spread beneath them, waking to a day that would end in blood for those who dared threaten what belonged to the Vitale Brotherhood.
"Surveillance feeds?" Stefano demanded.
Giovanni swiped through his tablet, bringing up multiple camera angles from inside the cottage. "All systems operational. Security team maintaining perimeter defense without alerting the household. Current visuals show Leo still asleep."
The screen displayed their omega curled on his side in bed, ash-blond hair spread across the pillow, face peaceful in sleep, completely unaware of the danger approaching his sanctuary.
The sight of him—vulnerable, beautiful, finally within reach after three years of waiting—sent another surge of possessive rage through Stefano's blood.
No one would touch him. No one would frighten him.
No one would even get close enough for Leo to know danger had approached his sanctuary.
"Thirty minutes flight time," Matteo noted, already mentally calculating contingencies. "We need real-time updates throughout."
The elevator doors opened to the rooftop, where the helicopter waited, blades already cutting through the morning air. A tactical team in Vitale black stood ready, expressions impassive beneath tactical gear.
"Live feed to my tablet throughout the flight," Stefano ordered as they boarded. "Any change in status—any movement toward the cottage—I want to know immediately."
The pilot nodded as they lifted off, banking sharply as they accelerated toward the isolated forest where Leo had been hidden for eight years.
The city fell away beneath them, the morning traffic already building on streets that would never know the violence about to erupt miles away in a secluded forest.
Throughout the flight, Stefano's attention remained fixed on the surveillance feed, watching Leo through the golden morning light.
The cottage remained peaceful—Leo now stirring in bed, stretching as consciousness returned, unaware of the violence gathering at the edges of his sanctuary.
Unaware that his alphas were already in motion, already flying toward him, already prepared to eliminate anything that threatened what was theirs.
"Perimeter team reports neutralizing three advance scouts," Giovanni's voice came through their comms. "Silent takedowns. Cottage security not compromised yet."
"Identities?" Stefano demanded.
"Professional contractors, likely hired specifically for this mission. No identifying markers."