Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
PRESENT
Kat’s rage pushes her forward before I process what’s happening. She dives at Nic, her hands clawing at him with a ferocity that would make anyone think twice about standing in her way.
Time slows.
She tackles him, her momentum knocking him back. The gun in his hand swings wildly as he tries to regain control. My heart pounds against my ribs like a war drum telling me to attack.
I lay an elbow into the unprepared guard next to me, sending him to the floor. My feet propel me forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. Kat struggles with Nic, but the guard who was on me, now dazed to the side, found his gun again, and it’s trained on Kat and Nic.
“Get off her!” Theo plows his foot into Nic’s side, desperate to help his mom.
“Theo! Stand back!” I order. I can’t have him in the line of fire, too.
I have to protect her… I dive in the direction of the tornado of action, and that’s when the sharp crack of a gunshot echoes through the room, deafening.
My ears ring. Panic courses through my body.
But Kat still wrestles with Nic.
I flick my gaze backward. Blood blooms on the guard’s pants, shot in the thigh. By who?
Anton and Gabriel…
Kat uses all her strength to restrain Nic. His fingers are inches from his gun when my fist connects with his jaw.
Marta makes a move toward Nic’s gun. Kat jumps off and kicks it across the room.
I rain blow after blow. Bone and cartilage crunch under my knuckles. Nic slumps, his fight draining.
Kat scrambles to her feet, taking Theo into her arms.
Chaos erupts in the room when Gabriel and Anton burst through a window, and Marta steps back, her cold veneer cracking for the first time.
She shouts into the space. “Damon! Where the hell are you? Do something!”
I trust my brother and Anton to secure the space while I take care of showing Nic what happens when he comes into my world…
I’m consumed by blinding rage. His head snaps to the side with every punch. Desperation twists his features, but I’m on autopilot, the survival instinct to fight possesses me. Blow after blow of uncontrollable rage pummels down on Nic, who is crumpled on the floor, powerless, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.
An animalistic need urges me to keep going.
You touch her. You touch my family. You die.
Tears stream down Kat’s face. “Santi! Stop!”
Nic gasps for air, but I’m not done. I seize his collar in a savage grip, dragging him upright until there’s no escape from the fury burning in my eyes.
I growl, low and dangerous. “You think you can lay a hand on them and walk away?”
He glares at me, blood trickling from his lip, but there’s no fight left.
I shove him back, sending him sprawling to the floor. He scrambles to sit up, his chest heaving, his defiance crumbling when Gabriel steps forward, his gun trained squarely on Nic’s head.
Nic spits blood onto the floor, glaring up at me with venom. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”
Gabriel steps forward, his gun trained on him. “We know exactly who we’re up against. A man who’s about to do life.” He grabs Nic forcefully by the arm, gun still trained on him, and cuffs him.
Nic struggles to his feet, clutching his side, his face contorted with pain and rage. “You think this is over?” he snarls at me. “It’s only just begun.”
Marta’s icy facade cracks when Anton strides toward her, forcing her to raise her hands in surrender.
“On your knees,” Anton orders.
Marta hesitates, her sharp gaze flitting between the gun in Anton’s hand and the shattered remnants of her plan.
She lowers herself slowly, her lips curling into a faint, disdainful smile. “You think this changes anything? We have an entire army behind us.”
Anton shoves her to the floor, checking her for weapons, his grip unrelenting. “They’re not here today, lady.”
And I have to believe in my brothers, in GhostEye. I have to hope that this fucked-up ordeal will lead them to helping the FBI close down the ’Ndrangheta once and for all. And maybe help countless other people from their terror.
Nic’s features twist with evil humor, his breath ragged, but his defiance intact. “Just wait and see what happens next… you’re too na?ve to see this is so much bigger…”
“Shut up!” Kat’s voice cracks, sharp as broken glass. She takes a step forward, Theo trembling in her arms but holding tight, his small hands clutching her like a lifeline. Her glare locks with Nic’s. “You’re finished, Nic. You’ll rot in whatever hell you crawled out of.”
His resistance crumbles into something darker, more sinister. “You’ve pissed off a lot of people, Katinka…”
She chooses to leave it. So I do, too.
The wail of sirens grows louder, red and blue lights bounce off the stone walls of the foyer. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and fear. My fists are raw, the skin split and bleeding, but I can’t feel it. All I can feel is the steady weight of Kat and Theo pressed against me. The two people I swore I’d protect at any cost.
I glance down at Theo, his eyes wide and unblinking, taking in the flashing lights, the uniforms, the weapons. He shouldn’t have to see this. He shouldn’t have to know what this world can do, what people like Nic and Marta are capable of.
I failed. My knuckles bleed, but it doesn’t compare to the ache in my chest. All my strength, all my planning, and still, Theo was taken. Kat faced her worst nightmare. They both suffered because of me.
But then, small fingers grip my wrist.
His hand is tiny, but his hold is firm. Like Theo is anchoring me instead of the other way around. He stares up at me, his wide eyes still glassy from everything he’s been through, but there’s something else there, too—something steady.
“You saved me.”
I shake my head—because no, I didn’t stop this before it happened, I didn’t?—
But Theo doesn’t let go. He glances between me and Kat.
“Both of you saved me.”
My throat tightens.
Kat exhales shakily beside me, kneels, pulls him into her arms, and presses a kiss to his temple, like she needs to hear it just as much as I did. And maybe she did. Maybe we both did.
I don’t know if I believe it yet, but even in Kat’s tight embrace, Theo still grips my hand, and I let his words soak in. The sting in the bridge of my nose is nearly unbearable, thinking about this boy trusting me.
The emotion is too much to handle.
I flex my hands, the bite of the cuts grounding me. This fight isn’t over. Nic may be in cuffs, but the damage he’s done will linger. The lies he told, the chaos he unleashed—it’s not something that can be fixed overnight.
But I won’t rest until it’s over. And neither will my family because that’s how we’re built. We don’t finish ’til the end. We will keep on fighting.
When Gabriel prepares to take Nic outside to the police cars, it isn’t my spirit to let that monster have the last word.
I approach Nic and my brother, immediately Gabriel stops and gives me the moment I need. Nic’s eyes flare open then narrow just as fast.
I plant my hand on Nic’s chest. “If you ever come near my family again, trust me, you’ll see this day as mercy. Because this?” I gesture around me. “This was me catching flies with honey. Next time,” I grit my teeth, “I’ll do it with your hollowed-out carcass.”
I give him a final shove and Gabriel escorts him outside.
I take Kat’s hand, and together with Theo, we step back, leaving Nic where he belongs—in the wreckage of his own making, a shadow of the man who thought he could destroy us.
Kat pulls Theo up into her arms. I can see he’s heavy for her, but there’s nothing that will stop her from holding her son now. We trail my brother, Anton, and the rest of the officers out into the blinding afternoon sun where reds and blues flicker on the driveway.
Theo places his head on Kat’s shoulder.
“Mom? Can we go home now?”
Kat glances down at him, her expression a fragile mix of heartbreak and healing, like she’s holding all the pieces of her love together just long enough to show him they’ll be okay. “Yeah, honey,” she kisses his forehead. “We’re going home.”
The word lands heavy on my chest. Home. Not the ranch, not my house—but this. Them. It’s not the walls around us that matter; it’s the arms holding us up.
This is strength—unconditional love. The kind that doesn’t keep score, doesn’t measure worth by achievements or failures. The kind that rebuilds, no matter how many times it’s been torn apart.
I spent my life trying to prove I was enough. That if I worked harder, accomplished more, became someone worth choosing, I could earn love. Growing up as the youngest in a family of immigrants who sacrificed everything, I believed love had to be earned.
Then there was Kat. Loving her should’ve made me whole, but her father’s disapproval only reminded me of everything I wasn’t—successful enough, worthy enough, never enough. Losing her the first time only cemented that belief.
But standing here, watching Kat pour strength into Theo, I realize something I never let myself believe before—I don’t have to earn this.
Kat isn’t here because of what I’ve done or what I can offer. It’s not about proving my place—it’s about showing up, solid and steady. To Theo, I’m not a savior or a warrior. I’m the man who stays. The one who makes space for him to feel safe.
And that’s what home is—a place where you don’t have to prove you belong.
I take a deep breath. Everything we just survived presses down on me, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a failure. It feels like a chance. A chance to stop running, stop proving, and simply be the man they already see me as.
Just then, Gabriel places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “You did good, hermano . You kept them safe.”
Well, I’ll be damned. I have G’s approval. Today truly is unprecedented.
As the officers begin to clear the estate, I guide Kat, who’s carrying Theo, past the police car for Nic, who’s waiting to be shoved inside. We carry on toward the one that will take us to the police station.
Theo’s arms tighten around Kat’s neck, his face pressed against her shoulder.
But before we climb in, Theo shifts, his head turning toward Nic who’s being lowered into the car. His smirk is now replaced by a blank, defeated expression.
Theo wriggles out of Kat’s arms, and before we can stop him, he rushes toward Nic, Kat quickly following to keep him close. My heart lurches, every instinct screaming to pull him back, to shield him. But then I see it—that fire in Theo’s eyes. The same fire I see in Kat when she’s defending what’s hers.
My boy, barely as tall as Nic’s waist, is being his own hero. His hands curl into fists, his breath shaky but sure. He doesn’t back down, doesn’t look away, just lifts his chin and delivers the words like a truth he’s always known.
“You’re not my dad,” he says, each word sharp and deliberate, his voice carrying a quiet, unshakable power that reverberates in my chest. “And you never deserved to be.”
Nic’s steps slow, and for the first time, his mask cracks. Something flashes in his eyes—shame, maybe, or regret. But it’s gone just as quickly, swallowed by the same cold indifference that’s defined him.
Kat takes Theo’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go home.”
We’re not whole yet. We’ve still got scars to mend and wounds to heal. But we’re together. And for now, that’s enough.