Chapter 11 It Ends Now #2
“I have a meeting with Sergio.” I keep my voice rough and flat.
“Sergio doesn’t take unannounced meetings.” The shorter guard tries to act tough, though his unease is obvious. “Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Jethro.” I lock eyes with him through the open window.
“Tell your boss I’m the Alpha who holds the marker on Sandra.
Tell him I have the money he wants for her.
If he wants this money, he opens this gate in the next ten seconds.
If he doesn’t, I leave, and he gets absolutely nothing and I will kill all men he sends for her on sight. ”
The guard swallows hard, eyeing the hard set of my jaw. He pulls a radio from his coat and speaks rapidly into the mic.
Five seconds later, a loud buzz echoes over the rumble of idling diesel engines. The heavy steel gate rolls open.
“Pull inside and park,” the tall guard says, taking a step back. “And check your weapons. No guns inside.”
I shift the truck back into drive, roll through the open gate, and park near the main building entrance. I shut off the engine and step out of the cab. My sheer size dwarfs the guard as he walks up behind me.
“I’m walking into a syndicate warehouse.” I turn around to face him. “I’m keeping my sidearm. If you want to try and take it from me, go ahead.”
The guard looks at the cold intent in my eyes and slowly steps aside.
“Follow me.” He turns toward the building.
I follow him into the cavernous interior of the freight shipping depot.
Rows of towering metal shelves and stacked wooden pallets line the massive concrete floor.
It smells like diesel exhaust, cold dust, and motor oil, but beneath the industrial grime, I catch sight of a familiar profile standing near a rusted support beam.
Nero.
My blood runs ice-cold. The memory of Sandra shaking in the boutique hits me like a physical blow. My hand twitches toward the small of my back, every instinct screaming at me to draw my gun, find the bastard, and put a hollow-point round in his chest.
I clench my jaw, keeping a tight, ironclad lid on my temper. I force my hand to stay loose at my side instead.
No violence. I repeat the objective in my head, shoving the anger down. I follow the guard up a metal staircase toward a glass-paneled office overlooking the warehouse floor.
I’m ending this. Right now.
The guard opens the heavy steel door to the elevated office. I step inside, leaving the noisy warehouse floor behind.
The room is a total contrast to the rusted industrial space outside. It features rich leather armchairs, thick Persian rugs, and dark wood paneling. The air smells of expensive cigar smoke and bourbon.
Sergio sits behind a massive desk at the far end of the room. He is an older syndicate boss in a tailored suit, his dark hair silvering at the temples. He projects casual control, resting his hands on the polished wood and evaluating me with calculating eyes.
I start to walk across the Persian rug, but before I reach the desk, heavy footsteps thud against the metal staircase outside. The office door swings open behind me.
The bitter scent of old sweat, cigarette smoke, and cheap cologne rolls into the room. Nero and Emilio flank each other in the doorway behind me.
They followed me up from the warehouse floor.
They step into the office together. Nero, with his slicked-back dark hair and hawk-like nose, moves to the right side of the room.
Emilio, heavier set with a dark scowl. They look at me with a mix of arrogance and aggression. Nero opens his mouth to speak.
I don’t give him the chance. I ignore their existence.
I finish crossing the rug, pull the thick envelope from my inner jacket pocket, and toss it onto the pristine mahogany desk. It hits the wood with a heavy smack.
“Sergio.” I keep my voice low and steady. I don’t offer a hand for a shake. “My name is Jethro. I’m a Pack Alpha from Willowside.”
Sergio arches an eyebrow, taking a slow drag from his cigar. He glances at the envelope, then back to my face. “I know who you are. My men have been keeping an eye on your town. You run a bar. And you currently possess property that belongs to my organization.”
“She’s not property.” I match his steady tone, forcing myself to stay calm. “Her father owes you a gambling debt. I’m here to clear the ledger.”
I reach forward, popping the metal clasp on the envelope. I slide the two thick, banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills out under the bright office lights.
The entire room goes dead silent. The two guards standing by the door shift their weight, staring. Sergio stops mid-drag, his cigar hovering near his mouth. Nero and Emilio freeze, their sneers faltering as they look at the cash sitting on the desk.
“Twenty thousand dollars.” I look at Sergio. “Cash. That covers her father’s principal debt and whatever hazard pay you’re giving your guys to freeze in an SUV outside my town. The financial marker is wiped out.”
Sergio slowly lowers his cigar to an ashtray. He leans forward, his eyes locked on the money.
“Count it. Verify it.” I step back from the desk. “Do whatever you need to do, but this transaction ends right now.”
Nero steps forward, his boots thudding against the rug, Emilio right behind him. “Boss, you can’t be serious. That bitch is ours. We claimed her. We gave her our marks. We don’t sell our collateral to some bartender just because he brought some cash!”
“Shut your mouths.” Sergio snaps the order without even looking at his enforcers.
I square my broad shoulders, turning slightly to ensure Nero and Emilio catch the absolute finality in my expression.
“You forced a bite. That isn’t a bond, and she rejected it.
” I let my voice carry a hard, unyielding weight, shifting my attention back to Sergio.
“She accepted our marks. The physical and emotional bond is fully set. By the rules that govern our country, and by the marks she accepted from us, I’m officially invoking Alpha Law. ”
The words hang in the heavy air of the office.
Invoking Alpha Law isn’t just a negotiation tactic.
It relies on the archaic, primal rules of our society.
Under the Law, she is recognized as our pack’s property.
I feel dirty even thinking of her like an object; it goes against everything I feel for her, but I know it is the only rule that Alphas like Sergio are forced to respect.
Because she accepted our pack, any forced claims or familial debts are completely voided.
“Sandra belongs to my pack.” I keep my voice pragmatic and cold. “She has no ties to this city or to your organization. Alpha Law stands. All Alphas follow it, and you will, too.”
Sergio leans back in his leather chair. He looks at the cash, then back at me. He is a businessman, and he knows how this works. If he accepts the money, his financial loss is covered. If he ignores an established Alpha Law claim, he violates the most sacred, unbreakable instinct of our kind.
“And let me make this perfectly clear.” I turn my tone to pure steel.
“After today, Sandra is no longer her father’s family.
You do not come to her, or to us, for any future debts that man creates for himself.
I don’t care if he borrows another million dollars.
We will not pay a single cent of it. You need to make absolutely sure he understands that. ”
Sergio nods slowly. He reaches out, tapping a manicured finger against a banded stack of hundreds. “The debt is settled. The ledger is clean. We recognize her marks. Alpha Law stands. Your pack is shielded from his future mistakes. I have my money, I considered this matter done with.”
“Boss!” Emilio shouts. He takes a step toward the desk, his hand dropping to the weapon at his hip. “You’re just going to let him walk out of here with our Omega?”
Sergio sighs, looking at them with sheer disgust. “She isn’t yours. She rejected your claim. The collateral is paid in full. Stand down.”
Nero’s chest heaves. He glares at me, his jaw clenched in a furious sneer. “You think some cash stops us? You think some archaic bullshit law stops us? We’ll gut you, bartender. And we’ll drag her back here ourselves.”
I finally turn my head. I look at Nero and Emilio.
I don’t posture. I just let the absolute, sociopathic calm of my military training take over. I close the distance between us in two long strides, stopping right in front of them. I am taller, broader, and more dangerous.
“Look at me.” I drop my voice into a lethal register.
Nero and Emilio stare up at me, their bravado wavering under my intense, unblinking focus.
“The Law protects her.” I keep my tone conversational, which only makes the threat more real.
“But this warning is specifically for you two. Sandra is carrying my kid. She’s bonded to my pack.
If you ever cross the Willowside county line again.
.. if you ever park another SUV outside our town. .. if you even breathe her name...”
I lean in slightly, staring right through them.
“I will take your lives apart.” I let the cold truth of the promise sink into their bones. “I will break every bone in your hands, and I will make sure neither of you ever walks again. Do you understand me? I won’t kill you, but you’ll want to die after I’m done with you. Move on.”
Nero swallows hard, his jaw tight. Emilio pales, the color draining from his face. Neither of them says anything. They give small, jerky nods.
I hold their gazes for a few seconds longer, ensuring the fear takes root.
I turn my back on them and look at Sergio one last time. “We’re done here.”
I don’t wait for a dismissal. I walk past the two guards, pull open the heavy steel door, and step out of the office.
The walk back through the freight warehouse feels different. The weight on my shoulders is gone. The crushing anxiety that I’ve been carrying since the morning in the boutique is eradicated.
I step out into the sunlight. I climb into my truck and start the heavy diesel engine.
I put it in gear and drive away from the shipping depot, leaving the mess behind.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Ross’s number.
He answers on the first ring. “It’s done.
” I let out a long, exhausted breath. “The debt is paid and her marks are recognized. They can’t ever touch her again. Tell Sandra I’m coming home.”