Chapter 44

forty-four

DIMITRI

I’d learned to trust my instincts over the years—and right now, every single one of them screamed that something was about to go to hell. Although everything appeared to be under control, an unsettling feeling gnawed at me. The itch under my skin wouldn’t cease, and I wondered if it was simply because I was miles away from my Omega, or if it was attributed to a deeper intuition.

Leading up to executing our plan, I’d been nothing but confident. So why the fuck was I suddenly so restless?

I swept my gaze over the warehouse, taking in the scene from my vantage point on the raised platform. Men moved with purpose, unloading crates from the ship and stacking them with military precision. The smell of saltwater and diesel was thick in the air, the distant hum of engines providing a constant backdrop to the clatter and shout of the docks. This was our territory, our home turf, and everything was going smoothly, but the uneasy knot in my stomach refused to loosen.

Maybe if I just called her…

I growled under my breath at how obsessive I’d become.

Kit’s fine. Tommas is with her. Enzo’s got the place locked down. Get your head back in the fucking game. You can’t afford to be distracted right now.

I forced my thoughts to the present, to the mission. This had to go off without a hitch. The Valentinos were like wounded animals, dangerous and unpredictable, but soon, we’d have them trapped. One last push and we could finish this, eliminate the threat, and secure a future where Kit could be safe.

My eyes drifted to Marco, who stood among the sea of crates on the warehouse floor. He was surveying the operation, but I could see the distraction in his posture, the way he kept glancing at his phone. He wasn’t the only one with their mind elsewhere. We were all struggling, trying to balance the immediate demands of our world with the deep-seated desire to be back at home with Kit.

The platform’s metal railing was cold under my hands as I gripped it, tension flowing through my body like an electrical current. We had to make this work. For her.

I pulled out my cell, its screen bright against the dim warehouse lighting as I clicked it on. No new messages.

Fuck it.

Unable to resist, I dialed Enzo. The phone rang endlessly while I waited for him to pick up.

“Well,” the asshole finally answered, “that took longer than expected.”

My brows drew together. “What did?”

“You, checkin’ in. I had money on you callin’ an hour ago. Lost a hundy on that shit.”

“Is that what our friendship’s been reduced to? Cheap bets?”

There was a beat of silence, almost enough for me to pull the phone away from my ear to check the connection before I heard him again.

“Hey now, some of us aren’t as loaded as others. What might be cheap to you woulda covered my drinks tonight when we’re celebrating our victory.”

“They have to show up first,” I grumbled, worrying that we hadn’t done enough to lure in the enemy.

“They will.” Enzo sounded so damn sure. “Hell, I’d bet on it.”

I scoffed. “Has anyone told you that you have a gambling problem? You still owe me a grand for bailing you out of last month’s poker game.”

My friend became slightly defensive. “You win some, you lose some.”

“Tell you what, you keep my Omega safe tonight and I’ll forgive your debt.”

“Already on it, boss,” he promised.

“How’s everything at the penthouse?” I cut to the chase. “Kit doing okay?”

Enzo paused, and for a heartbeat my chest tightened, my mind racing through worst-case scenarios. “All good here. Kit’s fine. She’s with Tommas. Lonnie and I are guarding your personal floors. We have guys patrolling the perimeter, and the entry points are all locked down. Nothing’s getting past us. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about… If only it were that simple. “Good. Keep it that way. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do. And D?” he paused for a beat, growing more serious. “Kick their asses, okay?”

“We will.” I clicked to end the call, staring at the phone for a minute as I contemplated calling Kit on the new phone we’d gotten her earlier. Talking to her might calm this storm inside me, but what would I even say? I couldn’t reassure her of anything, and the last thing I wanted to do was add to her already heightened anxiety over this entire evening.

I’d spotted her tears when we’d left tonight, and they’d just about killed me.

No. It was best if I waited until I had good news to report. Until I could call her and tell her I was heading home, safe and sound. That all of this was over. That she was free .

I surveyed the scene again, my eyes tracking the movement of our men. Everyone had their place, their role. This wasn’t our first operation, but it was for damn sure our most important.

The Valentinos had been a thorn in our side for too long, and tonight we had the chance to pull it out for good.

My gaze settled on Marco, who was working the ground floor. He was talking to one of the men, giving instructions, but then he glanced up and caught my eye. The look we shared stretched on, weighted, full of all the things we couldn’t say out loud: the fear we’d never admit, the doubt we tried to hide, and the hope that everything we’d worked so hard for would pay off.

It was just a waiting game now.

MARCO

Standing still wasn’t in my DNA, especially not tonight, when my mind refused to stay in one place for more than a few seconds. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, then back again, like a boxer warming up before a fight. The warehouse was a symphony of noise—the beep of loading equipment, the low din of our guys as they moved crates from the ship, the distant clang of metal on metal. The sounds blended together into a single, overwhelming roar.

I could feel Dimitri and Gio’s tension alongside my own. It was a sixth sense. A palpable, heavy cloud that hung over each of us. We were all wound so tight that one misstep could set us off like a pack of firecrackers. All of it added to the endless loop of distractions pulling at my mind.

Fuck, I needed to move. I started to pace, making a slow circuit around the stack of crates in front of me while I oversaw the operation. My thoughts were scattered in every direction, as aimless as leaves caught in the wind, while the urge to check on Kit burned deep inside me, smoldering like hot coal.

I pulled out my phone, stared at the screen, then shoved it back in my pocket. Tommy had texted us earlier to let us know she was fine. But was she really?

Goddammit, I wish I’d bonded her already; that I’d just lifted her wrist and sunk my teeth in, leaving a perfect crescent-shaped mark behind that would make her mine for all eternity. But biting an Omega outside of heat was wildly more painful and lacked the intimacy such an act merited. And after everything Kit had been through, she deserved the most wonderful bonding we could possibly give her.

Still, I wished, more than anything, that I could feel her emotions and get a read on her wellbeing

Reaching for any semblance of calm, I reminded myself that we’d left our best guys behind to guard our place—and thus, my Omega. And yet, I couldn’t shake the niggling anxiety.

The Valentinos were ruthless, and if they made a move on Kit while we were out here playing war…

No. They fuckin’ wouldn’t. Walking into that building would be death on a stick, and Rocco and Vincent were too smart for that. Like cockroaches, they found a way to survive, and they hadn’t gotten this far in setting up their territory and being such pains in our asses by making stupid decisions—much as I wished I could say otherwise.

It required brains and respect—whether earned or demanded—to raise an organization from nothing, and that made them a formidable adversary.

But tonight, we had the upper hand. Everything was in place as long as they took the bait.

I stopped my pacing and pulled out my phone again, fingers hovering over the screen. One quick text wouldn’t hurt. It might even help me focus if I knew she was okay.

Marco:

Hey, Kit. How are you holding up?

I waited, staring at my cell like I could will a response to appear faster. The cold from the docks seeped into my bones, but it did nothing to cool the anxious heat that had settled in my chest.

The phone buzzed in my hand, and I nearly fumbled it in my rush to read her message.

Kit:

I’m okay. Just worried about you all. Tommas is being sweet. He’s trying to distract me with old family stories.

Of course he was. Tommas always had a way of making the worst situations seem less dire with his endless supply of anecdotes and banter.

Marco:

He’d better not be telling you the one about me and the goat.

I could almost hear her laugh as I imagined her reading that. The tension in my shoulders eased just a fraction when the phone buzzed again.

Kit:

?? That’s the first one he told me. Poor goat!

I grinned, remembering that ridiculous night and how we’d all laughed so hard we cried. The memory was a small balm on the rawness of this evening.

Marco:

Tell Tommy he’s in for it now. I’m gonna find the most embarrassing one to tell you when I get home.

Kit:

Promise?

I knew her question was heavy with unspoken meaning. She was scared we wouldn’t be coming back.

Marco:

We’ll be home soon, Angel. Promise.

I slipped the phone into the pocket of my jeans, then scrubbed a hand over my face.

Damn, did I want to get back to my Omega. I needed this shit over as fast as possible, which meant I had to focus. My brothers would kill me if I fucked this up.

You’ve got a job to do. So do it.

I pushed everything from my mind, trying to embody Emilio. That man could flip from dad to a mafia don in a second flat. It was a skill I had never truly admired until right this minute.

A cold draft swept through the building, cutting through layers of clothing like a knife, bringing with it the smell of rust and engine oil. The darkness past the loading bay doors felt ominous, all of us studying the shifting shadows, anticipating the monsters’ arrival.

There was no sign of the Valentinos yet.

But just because we couldn’t see them, didn’t mean they weren’t watching. Waiting. Biding their time to make the most strategic move.

A prickle of unease skittered along my spine.

I kept a vigilant eye on my surroundings—my hand twitching near my gun—poised and ready. Scanning the warehouse floor once more, I took in the organized chaos.

The shipment was almost fully unloaded, crates stacked high as men bustled around with the efficiency of worker ants. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, yet an unshakable tension lingered in the air. It felt like the charged stillness before a storm broke, the world holding its breath, bracing for the first crack of thunder.

I forced myself to concentrate, to stay sharp, but the tightening knot in my chest wouldn’t ease. An inexplicable sense of dread gnawed at the edges of my mind, warning me that something was… wrong .

Ignoring my instincts had never ended well, and right now, every fiber of my being urged me to leave and get back to Kit. But I couldn’t—not yet.

And that feeling—that bone-deep, unshakable sense of foreboding—loomed over me like a ticking bomb, ready to explode.