Chapter 30

thirty

KITANIA

I couldn’t breathe. Fear had stolen its way through me, making my entire body tremble as the words on the note played on repeat. Those slashed, red letters branded my eyelids every time I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out what was happening.

This isn’t real… Except I knew it was. I’d seen the threat for myself, had sworn just moments before it appeared that Rocco had been watching me in the distance. The faint scent of Vincent had hung in the air like bad cologne. He’d been there too, placing the note while Rocco distracted us.

My greatest nightmare had come true.

The Valentinos were here, on the Cristenello’s turf, and they’d come for me.

Without preamble, the guys had swept me into the car and tore out of the cemetery. We sped down city streets, but I didn’t see a thing. Everything around me was a blur as numbness crept along my arms and legs. Was I even breathing?

With a vicious growl, Gio pulled me into his lap. A sad, pathetic whimper crept up my throat as I let myself melt into him. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed that contact. That comfort. My hands fisted in his shirt and my lower lip wobbled as I tried not to cry.

Slowly, gently, he slid his hand up the back of my neck and tangled his fingers in my hair. He guided me forward until my forehead rested against his own. This close, every one of his ragged exhales ghosted across my lips.

He’d been just as scared as I was, just as terrified of losing me as I was of losing him.

“Mine,” he growled, his resonant rumble rolling through me, awakening all my senses and letting me finally feel something .

“Y-Yours,” I managed to murmur back.

A purr blazed to life in his chest, and the soothing vibrations helped to settle my jangled nerves. The utter terror eased enough that I could finally draw in a lungful of air. Tingles raced up my fingers while spots danced along the edges of my vision.

“I think she’s on the verge of passing the fuck out.” Tommas’ voice sounded like it was echoing down a long tunnel, and yet his hand landed gently on my leg. “Breathe, Butterfly. Just breathe.”

“We’re almost there,” Marco promised, speeding through traffic with practiced ease. But his fingertips drummed on the leather steering wheel, betraying his otherwise calm composure.

My attention fell to the empty front passenger seat. “Where’s Dimitri?”

“He stayed behind to hunt those fuckers.” Tommas’s tone was angrier than I’d ever heard it. “How fuckin’ dare they come for what’s ours in our own fuckin’ territory.”

The world outside continued to blur past in a sickening rush, but inside the car, time felt suspended. My heart thudded against my ribs like a caged animal, desperate to escape its confines as I worried about Dimitri. I laid my head on Gio’s shoulder and closed my eyes, desperately wanting to soak up the security he provided. To let his presence chase the shadows back into their corners. But knowing one of my mates was out there, potentially facing off against my dangerous enemies—it was too much.

“Dolcezza,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, sending tremors through me that had nothing to do with fear. “Look at me.”

I blinked up at him. His hazel eyes burned with promise. “D will be fine. You’re safe, and those assholes will never get that close to you again. You hear me?”

I nodded, trying to make myself believe it. But I hated leaving him behind almost as much as I hated Vincent and Rocco.

Within a few minutes, we turned onto a private drive. Carved out of the center of the city, the property was enclosed by towering arborvitae. What struck me immediately was the sheer amount of greenery, an unexpected oasis amid the urban sprawl. The gates ahead opened smoothly, allowing our car to pass as Marco gave a subtle nod to the security detail.

As we drove, a house took shape through the trees.

“This is our family home,” Gio explained after catching sight of my confused expression.

“It’s also where our dads do most of their business.” Tommas didn’t look thrilled at that.

“Yeah, but it’s the safest place we could be right now,” Marco tacked on, appeasing his younger brother, who sighed as the car drew to a stop outside the intricate front steps.

Tommy opened the door and offered me his hand. I took it and climbed out, all while staring in awe at the impressive home—if you could even call it that.

The grand, stately mansion had a distinct Mediterranean flair. The exterior walls were painted in a warm, terracotta pink that contrasted beautifully with the rich, dark red roof tiles. Large, sky-blue shutters framed the numerous windows, adding a vibrant pop of color and charm. Lush, meticulously maintained gardens surrounded the house with neatly trimmed grass, stone pathways, and manicured boxwoods that formed symmetrical patterns, all guiding the eye toward a central fountain where water gracefully cascaded from a sculpted figure.

Everything about this place screamed luxury and elegance. My mouth gaped open as I stared, transfixed.

“I think she likes it,” Tommas pseudo-whispered to his brothers as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me securely into his side.

“It’s gorgeous.” And absolutely daunting…

The interior was just as intimidating, if not more. While the outside held an old-world charm, even for such a mammoth home, the inside was polished glamor.

Marco took my other side, capturing my hand, while Giovanni positioned himself behind us. As a unit, we made our way through the maze of a house. Every room we passed, conversations quieted as the occupants, mainly men, stared after us. The guys paid no attention, but I pressed tighter against Tommas, my head on a swivel, that unease I’d started to tame in the car rising to new levels all over again.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, judged, dissected by every pair of eyes we passed. My skin prickled with awareness, and I fought the urge to bolt. These men, with their sharp suits and sharper gazes, were ridiculously intimidating.

We climbed a grand staircase and walked down a long corridor lined with oil paintings of austere Alphas. I tried not to look at them, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from my mates.

A set of thick, carved wooden doors sat at the end of the hallway, and we headed for them. With my nerves making me jittery and anxious, I took meticulous care straightening my outfit, wanting to make a good impression. The black dress hugged my torso before flaring out at my hips, ending just above the knee. While it had a low back, the sleeves covered the worst of my scars. Thankfully, the faded remains of my bruises were barely visible, easily hidden beneath my concealer. With straight hair, light makeup, and a pair of heels that added nearly three inches to my height, I hoped I looked presentable. I’d dressed for a funeral, after all, not meeting my future family.

But worrying about my appearance helped distract me from the rawness of finding that note and the pure, unadulterated dread that had filled me since.

“Who will be here?” I whispered, letting the guys lead me deeper into the house.

“Our dads’ car was out front. I’m sure they’re already waiting for us,” Tommas told me. “Emilio is Dimitri and Julia’s dad. Giacomo is Gio’s dad. Leonardo is Marco’s dad, and Matteo is mine.”

I filed those names away, hoping I wouldn’t forget and could match the right father to the correct son. The guys had explained that their mother had taken turns having children with each of her mates. Many packs approached having kids that way, but there was something about it that seemed too methodical for me.

If I ever had babies, I wanted it to be spontaneous and surprising.

But that was a thought for another day.

The guys pushed open the doors, and we entered an ornate study with a massive desk, couches, a fireplace, and floor to ceiling bookshelves filled to the brim. Men in finely tailored suits stood around the room arguing, but their discussion drew to a halt the moment they spotted us—or, more specifically, me.

“You must be the infamous Kitania,” an older gentleman, with distinguished black hair that had gone grey at the temples, stated. He introduced himself as Leonardo and offered me his hand. I forced myself to take it the way I’d been taught at the OMA, dipping my head politely.

The other dads made their introductions as well, and then abruptly turned their attention to their sons. I breathed a little easier once I was out of the spotlight.

“Have you heard from Emilio or Dimitri?” Leonardo questioned.

“Nothing yet.” Tommas stared down at his phone, his thumbs flying as he typed out a message.

Marco hung close, his hand gliding over my back in soothing strokes. I needed that contact, because knowing Dimitri hadn’t been in touch sent another jolt of adrenaline rushing through me.

The atmosphere grew tense as they dove into serious business talk centered on the Valentino threat. I moved to a bookshelf, gripping the wood as I tried to get the room to stop spinning, but it was no use. There were so many Alphas in here. The scents alone were overwhelming, as was listening to them discuss strategies and contingencies to deal with Rocco and Vincent.

I only caught snippets, their conversation becoming a jumble of noise to me.

“What if we…”

“Nah, that won’t work.”

“…fuckin’ with the wrong…”

“It won’t make a difference.”

It won’t make a difference.

An unbearable weight pressed down on my chest, and I rubbed at my sternum as those words sparked in my mind.

The bookshelf blurred as my vision hazed. I tried to focus on the spines of the books, counting them silently to ground myself.

One.

Two.

Three.

But Vincent’s voice cut through the fragile fabric of my mind, a phantom memory dragging me back to another time and place.

“You can cry if you want.” Vincent’s voice was as smooth and dry as the whiskey he’d sipped. “It won’t make a difference.”

I was chained to a chair in the cold, damp room they called the “playroom.” My wrists ached, rubbed raw from the unyielding cuffs, and the metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of mildew in the air. Vincent stood over me, a predator in every sense of the word, his looming frame casting long shadows that danced on the grimy walls.

“I’d say you’re tougher than you look,” he mused, swirling his glass, “but we both know that isn’t true. You break so beautifully.”

Crouching to my level, he sneered, his dull, dead eyes boring into mine. I flinched when he reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face like a lover might. The tenderness of the gesture only made the cruelty in his words sharper.

“I could almost admire it,” he continued, tone thoughtful, as though I were some kind of puzzle he was mildly interested in solving. “The way you fight, even when it’s pointless. But you’ll learn soon enough.”

My skin burned under his touch as his fingers lingered on my cheek, tracing the curve of my jaw. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear, to sink into the floor and escape his gaze, his voice, his control.

But escape was a fantasy, as distant as the stars.

“You’ll thank me one day.” His breath was hot against my ear. “When you finally understand that submission is survival.”

The sound of the whiskey glass being set on the table was the only warning before pain exploded across my cheek, the sting of his slap jerking my head to the side. Tears spilled down my face, unbidden, and he laughed softly, mockingly.

“You’re almost there.” Vincent straightened and stepped back. “A little more time, and you’ll be fucking perfect.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, grappling for control, trying to stop the rising tide of panic. But it was no use. My throat closed and my heart thundered.

Tears filled my eyes in real time while I pretended to study the titles on the spines so the guys wouldn’t notice that I was on the verge of a breakdown. It was only because of the scent-blockers they hadn’t picked up on my distress thus far.

Hold it together, Kit. But I was spiraling. Fast.

The discussion that flew around me became background noise compared to the ringing in my ears.

I could feel the anxiety swallowing me alive, my breath coming in shallow bursts. My knees threatened to buckle. Just as I felt the panic attack closing in, a woman burst into the room, assessing the situation with a calm, commanding presence I envied. Her resemblance to Dimitri was uncanny, and I instantly knew this had to be their sister. She marched straight toward my mates with fire in her eyes.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she scolded, throwing her hands into the air.

The intrusion was enough to jolt me out of my downward spiral.

“Julia, we’re right in the middle of something, dear,” Matteo said, not that she paid him any mind.

“Don’t ‘Julia’ me. Every single one of you knows better. Seriously, guys? Can’t you see your Omega is overwhelmed and on the verge of a panic attack?” She berated everyone in the room, and I gaped, marveling at the way she brought these big, strong, powerful men to a standstill.

“Aw fuck!” Gio hissed. All it took was a glance in my direction and he was moving, but his sister blocked his path with her arms crossed. He glanced straight over her shoulder, attention riveted on me. A purr blazed to life in his chest, soothing me even from a distance. “KitKat, are you alright?”

“We’re so sorry, Angel. We weren’t thinking about how discussing those assholes would affect you.” A genuinely apologetic wince tugged at Marco’s features.

Tommas rubbed at the back of his neck. “We got a little carried away with business talk.”

Their fathers all looked just as chastised.

“No.” I waved my hand as if I could dismiss their concerns, but it was hard to force the words out of my tight throat. “This is a problem I brought to your door. You have to discuss it. I just—I just need a second to pull myself together.”

“What you need is a break from all this,” Julia emphasized, spinning on her heels and coming to my side. “Trust me. These Cristenello men are capable of talking for hours. Let them go in circles about how to fix the problem, and when they have a solution or a plan, they can present it to you and get your opinion. Until then, we’ll be off getting some much needed girl time. Come on.” She offered me her hand, and with only a moment of hesitation, I took it.

With a decisive nod, Julia guided me out of the door while I shot one last glance over my shoulder.

“Jewels,” Marco called after us, and she didn’t even turn around.

“Unless you think the boogeyman is going to pop out of my closet, we’ll be perfectly safe in my room, Mars. I’ll bring your mate back to you when she’s ready.” As we walked, she murmured softly, “And only after we do some serious Omega pampering. You need it, and frankly, so do I.” Her tone was soothing, yet there was an underlying firmness that told me she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

The moment we were out of sight, and more importantly, out of earshot, an inappropriate laugh burst out of me. Once the giggle started, it wouldn’t stop. It was like the bubble of stress that had been unceasingly building had finally popped, and the release was gloriously cathartic.

“I’ve never seen an Omega talk to Alphas that way. That was incredible ,” I raved, truly impressed if not a little nervous that one of them would march out here and put Julia in her place.

But nobody did.

It was the first time in my life I realized we Omegas might not be as powerless as I’d always assumed we were. Because there was nothing shy or timid about Julia. She was strong, and brash, and had more bravery in her little pinkie than I had in my entire body.

“I want to be you when I grow up,” I told her amidst my best efforts to tame my giggles.

Her lips quivered in the corners, and then she was laughing alongside me.

“Oh, God! That’s hilarious. If my brothers heard that, they’d be horrified and ban you from ever hanging out with me, because I was a total pain in their ass growing up.” Julia grinned unapologetically. “Who am I kidding? I’m still a pain in their ass.” Looping her arm through mine, she tugged me further down the hall. “But it makes me happy to know they’re in good hands. I’m so glad they found you.”

I flushed and ducked my head. “I’m glad they found me, too.”