Chapter Eleven

Coda

The small pockets of the city that street gangs and cartels have carved out as their own are some of the few places where our reach doesn't extend. We stay out of their business. They stay out of ours. That's how it's always been. Until now.

If Alamilla didn't want us in his business, he should have left Karina alone. Now, his business is Valentino business. And his life is forfeit.

The air reeks of decay as Miles and I approach their warehouse, a dilapidated structure looming like a tomb at the edge of their territory. We cling to the shadows, ensuring no one sees us.

I've spent so long in the dark, it's a familiar friend. It hides Miles just as easily. I guess maybe he's spent his fair share of time clinging to shadows, too.

Nothing moves as we approach, but we're confident this is where they took her. Miles called in every favor he's owed. I called Rafe.

Alamilla didn't try hard to hide her. He brought her to the same place Miles was supposed to meet to get the guns. I'm guessing that was by design. He wants Miles to show up. Either he intends to kill him when he does, or taking Karina was meant to yank Miles back into line.

Either way, Alamilla is going to be sorely disappointed because Miles isn't coming alone. He's bringing Karina's own personal fucking demon.

"Ready?" I ask Miles, my voice barely loud enough to pierce the night.

"Ready," Miles replies, that square jaw set in grim determination.

Before we can step forward, a familiar figure steps out of the shadows, moving toward us. Miles tenses, but I place a hand on his arm, stilling him.

If he shoots Domani, I'm going to be pissed.

"What are you doing here?" I ask the man who's fought and killed at my side in every goddamn war we've waged for fifteen years. I'm glad to see him here now.

"You thought you were doing this alone?" He arches a brow, a wry smile dancing on his lips. "You know it doesn't work that way, motherfucker. Not with us."

Not that long ago, I was saying something similar to him. It was me, offering him a hand in the dark. Now, here he stands, ready to return the favor. Gratitude surges through me. In this life, debts are rarely repaid. Between the two of us, they always are. We ride together. We die together.

He flicks his gaze at Miles. "Alessepo."

"Brambilla."

I'm not surprised Miles knows who he is. We're the biggest fucking criminals in Chicago. Our names probably haunt his department. And yet, they can't ever seem to catch us.

Funny how that works.

"Let's do this," I say, nodding at both men.

Silently, we slip inside the warehouse. The scent of rust lingers in every corner. Our footsteps are barely audible on the concrete floor, our breaths mingling with the eerie silence that surrounds us… until it's shattered.

"?Intrusos!" A shout ricochets off the walls as a group of armed cartel members catches sight of us. Surprise quickly morphs into aggression.

Domani shifts, a panther poised for slaughter, while beside him, Miles' usually stoic expression bleeds to a mask of deadly intent.

Gunfire rips through the warehouse, chaos igniting around us. We move as one, shadows flitting between pillars as we take out the cartel members one by one while they take potshots.

I quickly take cover behind a pile of crates, with Miles and Domani taking similar positions on either side. Our firearms are like extensions of ourselves—cold, precise, and unyielding.

One after another, Alamilla's people fall, plummeting like stones as my bullets find their flesh. Beside me, Domani and Miles are just as deadly, just as unrelenting.

They outnumber us, but it's not even close. They're little more than children playing at war. We've been orchestrating it longer than they've been alive.

"How fucking many are there?" Miles growls from my right as he pauses to reload.

Too many. Cristo. Did Alamilla have all of his people lying in wait for Miles?

A bullet whizzes past, singing the air where my head was moments before. I mutter a curse, shooting the stronzo in the kneecap. I fire again as he falls, hitting him between the eyes.

They falter, realizing they're outmatched. One runs for the doors.

Domani takes aim, dropping him.

The last handful scatter like rats, deciding they'd rather face Alamilla's wrath than die in this fucking warehouse.

The echoes fade, leaving silence.

I'm on my feet in seconds, moving through the warehouse, checking every dark corner, every room.

"Karina!"

A faint, muffled sound bounces back to me. I chase it, my heart in my throat, not breathing. Not living.

I find her in a small, windowless room in the back. She's bound to a chair, tape over her mouth. Her eyes wide with fear and relief as they fall on me.

"Karina," I breathe, a blaze of protectiveness surging through me.

She whimpers behind the tape.

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now," I whisper, reaching her side in two steps. My hands shake as I gently peel the tape from her face and then set to work on the knots, quickly untangling the ropes to free her.

"C-Coda?" Her voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it's the sweetest sound I've heard in an eternity.

"I'm right here, cara. I've got you." I run my hands over her, trying to convince myself that she's real. She's safe. In this moment, nothing else exists—not the gunfire, not my betrayal. All that matters is shielding her from the darkness and keeping her close to me.

Her gaze tangles with mine, emotion blazing like twin suns in the gray depths—fear, gratitude, and something more profound, something so fragile I nearly destroyed it entirely—trust.

Seeing it there now gives me hope. We aren't broken. I can still fix this. I'll spend the rest of my life trying if that's what it takes.

I keep one arm locked around her as I lead her out of her prison. My gun is in my other hand, prepared to protect her. She trembles against my side but doesn't falter as we make our way, one careful step at a time, back to the main part of the warehouse.

Halfway there, she grabs my arm. "The guns are here," she whispers. "I heard them talking about them."

I nod, not particularly surprised Alamilla has them here. "We'll handle it, cara."

They'll leave this place with Domani. I trust them in our hands far more than I do in Chicago PDs. At least we won't release them in the streets, turning Chicago into a killing field. I can't say the same for Chicago's finest. Not any longer.

My answer satisfies Karina. She settles against my side, confident in the knowledge that I'll handle this problem. I relish the fact that she doesn't ask how or demand answers. She simply trusts that I'll do as promised.

I missed her trust almost as much as I missed her these last hours. The knowledge that, no matter what I've done or how much blood is on my hands, this fiery angel still sees something in me worthy of faith.

Not having her trust is intolerable. I'll never jeopardize it again. Not when I need it so fucking badly. It's become a cornerstone of my life, a building block of this new Coda—the one who belongs to her and not the dark.

We emerge into the main cavern of the warehouse. Her gaze immediately falls on the bodies we left in our wake.

"Coda," she whispers.

"They never should have taken you, Karina," I say, anger seething just below the surface. I'm still pissed they dared. "I don't regret it. I'm not sorry. This is what waits for anyone who touches you."

She doesn't say anything. I don't think she knows what to say.

"This is who I am, angioletta. You wanted me to let you in. You wanted to know my secrets. This is me," I murmur. "I have blood on my hands and murder in my heart. I kill without mercy. Until you, that's all I was. It's all I knew." I touch her cheek. "You changed everything."

She shivers, looking up at me, her gray eyes wide and bottomless.

"You make me better. Loving you makes me better."

Her gaze flits across my face, vulnerable and searching. Afraid to hope, but desperate to believe. Even now, she loves me. Even now, she wants to trust that I'm a man worthy of her. I'm not. I never have been. But I'll spend every waking moment fighting to become one, just like I have since I met her.

That's a war I'll gladly fight. When you've spent a lifetime in the trenches, what's one more battle? I'll be a man at war for stolen moments of peace with her. It's not even a decision that requires thought. Anything that ends with her in my arms, I'll do.

"Coda, I…"

Domani and Miles slip out of the hallway across the warehouse, distracting her. Her brows furrow, shock filtering through her eyes as she looks from them back to me.

"Yeah," I murmur, answering the question brimming there. "We came together, cara. He's responsible for a good number of the men at your feet."

"He came for me," she whispers. Her tone breaks my heart for her. The fact that she doubted he would. The fact that she's happy he did. To me, he's always been the enemy…but to her, he's always been her father. Family never stops being family, even when they break your fucking heart. I think I forgot that somewhere along the way.

"He loves you. Everything he's done lately, he did to protect you," I say, setting them both free. "You don't have to believe him or forgive him, but you should know that I believe him."

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and then she nods.

Domani and her father reach us.

"Alamilla's dead," Domani says without preamble.

"The guns are here. They leave with you."

He jerks his chin in a nod. "We found them. Mattia and Diego are already on the way to help load them up." His gaze drifts to Karina at my side. "You should get out of here."

Karina doesn't notice his eyes on her. She's staring at her father.

"Thank you," she whispers to him. Her words tremble but stand strong. "For everything."

Miles is a statue carved from granite, his hard eyes softening just enough to indicate he heard her. He nods once, sharply. "You never should have been here in the first place, kid," he says.

I think it's the closest to an apology he's ever come.

His eyes find mine. "Get her out of here. We'll hold it down until the guns are out of play."

I nod, more than happy to get her the fuck out of here. And then I pause. "Our deal still stands. If I have to come for you…"

"I know," he says. "I won't try to change it now."

I believe him. Miles Alessepo is leaving Chicago.

"Come on," I urge, tugging Karina gently toward the doors and the freedom waiting beyond—freedom from this place, freedom from the past, and freedom from the sins of her father.