Chapter 32
32
CELIA
M y father’s fingers dug into my arm as he dragged me toward the emergency stairs. Behind us, I heard the sounds of struggle. Dante and Luca were fighting against their captors. A gunshot rang out, followed by the meaty thud of a body hitting the floor.
“Celia!” Dante’s voice echoed through the stairwell.
“You’re coming with me,” my father snarled, yanking me roughly down the stairs. My wet shoes slipped on the metal steps, and only his bruising grip kept me from falling. “You’ve ruined everything.”
Another gunshot rang out above us. The sound bounced off concrete walls, making me flinch. Was that one of our men or one of his? I couldn’t tell anymore who was alive and who wasn’t.
We burst through the fire exit into the rain-soaked alley. Ahead, I could see the outline of a car, its engine already running. Just a few more steps and my father would have his escape route.
But then a figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking our path.
Gabriel.
He stood perfectly still in the rain, water running down his face, gun trained on my father. His expression was calm, but I could see the rage burning in his eyes.
My father yanked me against his chest, using me as a shield. The move wasn’t unexpected, but the impact still knocked the breath from my lungs. I felt the cold press of his gun against my temple.
“Let us pass,” my father said. “Or I’ll kill her.”
Gabriel didn’t move. “You’re not walking away from this, Mal.”
“You won’t risk hitting her.” My father’s voice held that familiar note of smug certainty. He’d always been so sure of himself, so convinced of his own cleverness. “Put the gun down.”
“He’s right,” I said, meeting Gabriel’s eyes. “You won’t shoot with me in the way. Let us go, Gabriel. You can’t fight our way out.”
Something flickered across Gabriel’s face. He knew I was telling him something. He’d predicted me so well so far. Painfully well for me, most of the time. Could he read me now?
Movement caught my eye. A flash of dark clothing on the rooftop above. Luca. He must have fought his way up there, looking for a clear shot. He was carrying someone else’s weapon he’d stripped from their body. But from this angle, with me pressed against my father’s chest, he couldn’t take the shot either.
Rain dripped into my eyes as I held Luca’s gaze. I knew how much the man loved a knife. Hopefully he’d had the chance to collect one as he searched the fallen enemies for handcuff keys and guns. He couldn’t drop a gun to me, but a knife…
“Shoot her or move,” my father growled.
“As if you won’t kill her as soon as you get her out of here,” Gabriel said, and he moved the gun to point at me. I knew he wouldn’t shoot, but god, the sight of the looming barrel made it hard to breathe. “I might as well take you now, Mal. I’ve owed you a few bullets for a long time.”
From the rooftop, a knife glinted as it fell, end over end, landing with a splash in a puddle near my feet. My father was so focused on Gabriel and on the battle in the distance, he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was barely holding onto me now.
He always thought so little of me.
My father laughed against my chest, a hard, bitter sound, that reminded me so much of Royal’s fake laughs. “So, Gabriel showed you how much he loved you in the end, Celia. I can’t believe you sided with him. You’ve always been a stupid?—”
I moved fast, dropping and twisting out of his grip. My hand found the knife in the puddle as I rolled.
Before he could bring his gun around, I drove the blade up under his ribs.
His eyes widened in shock. For once in his life, Mal Carmichael was completely speechless.
Running footsteps splashed down the sidewalk. Dante, finally free from the men upstairs. Gabriel moved forward; his gun still trained on my father. He was ready to shoot if my father made another move beside his shocked grasping at the knife. His bloody fingers slid over mine.
But this was my moment.
“This is for my mother,” I snarled, twisting the knife. Blood ran down my hand, hot against my rain-chilled skin. “For what you did to her. For lying about it.”
“Celia—” he choked out.
“And this.” I pulled the knife free and stabbed again. “Is for their parents. For everyone you’ve taken from us.”
Luca dropped down beside me, his hand finding my shoulder.
“And this is for never being my father. For never loving and protecting me. But I found my family now. And I will rule what used to be yours.”
Gabriel and Dante moved in closer, forming a circle around us. The last thing my father would see. His daughter, surrounded by the men who saw her. Loved her. Adored her.
I was powerful when I was more than just someone’s daughter.
“The families will never—” Blood bubbled from his lips.
“The families will ,” Gabriel promised quietly. “They’ll make her head of the family.”
“It’s the end of the Carmichael empire. It will be the Caruso family who rules now.” I told my father, because as I’d told them when I was being tortured, now I was a Caruso.
But these men belonged to me just as much as I belonged to them.
My father’s legs gave out. I stepped back, letting him fall. The rain washed his blood into the gutter.
I crouched, watching him, waiting for the moment when his eyes glazed over.
“Celia.” Dante’s voice was gentle. He touched my arm, and I realized I was still gripping the knife so hard my knuckles were white.
“I’m okay,” I said, though my voice shook. “I just…I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“We all have,” Luca said. His hand squeezed my shoulder. “But you deserved to be the one to end it.”
Gabriel holstered his gun and moved closer, his eyes searching my face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I looked down at my father’s body, then at the three men around me. My protectors, my partners, my family. “I will be.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. We had so much to do. There would be cleanup to handle, alliances to cement, and a power vacuum to fill.
But for now, I just stood in the rain with my three men, letting it wash away the blood, the pain, the last traces of the girl I’d been under my father’s thumb.
I was free.
Now I’d have to decide just how free I truly wanted to be, once I had the choice.
“We should go,” Gabriel said finally. “There’s still work to be done.”
Luca’s arm slipped around my waist, supporting me as the adrenaline began to fade. Dante moved to my other side, while Gabriel led the way to his car. They surrounded me like they always had, but now there was no tension in it, no competing loyalties.
We were finally, truly, on the same side.
As we drove away, I didn’t look back at my father’s body. I didn’t need to.
The future I wanted wasn’t behind me.
The rain was letting up, and somewhere in the distance, I could see the first hints of dawn breaking over the city.
My city now.