Chapter 18

Marco

Never in my life had I felt such a visceral mix of pride and terror as I did watching Lucas calmly hand our sleeping twins to Antonio, his eyes meeting mine with fierce determination. We'd known this confrontation was coming—Giovanni's latest move had made that clear—but I'd hoped to handle it alone. However, my omega had other plans. He always wanted to be with me no matter what I was doing.

"I'm fighting with you," he'd said earlier, his tone slamming the door on debate. "They threatened our family. Our babies. This ends tonight."

Now, as we stood in our fortified safe house, surrounded by my most trusted men, I couldn't help but marvel at how much he'd grown. The college student I'd first met was gone, replaced by someone stronger, deadlier, and even more beautiful. His change was almost palpable.

"The perimeter is secured," Salvatore reported, checking his weapons. "But Giovanni's men have been spotted approaching from the east and west. They're trying to box us in."

I nodded, feeling the familiar cold focus settle over me. It always happened in moments like this one. "How many?"

"At least thirty that we can see. Probably more waiting in the shadows."

Lucas stepped closer to me, checking his own gun—the one I'd taught him to use after the twins were born. He learned more quickly than I thought he would. "They're expecting you to be distracted," he said softly. "They think the babies make you weak."

"They're about to learn how wrong they are," I growled, pulling him close for a fierce kiss. "Stay close to me. No heroics." I couldn't risk him any more than I already was.

He smiled against my lips. "Same goes for you, old man."

The first explosion rocked the building before I could respond. They were making their move, trying to draw us out. Amateur tactics, really. I'd expected better from Giovanni.

"They're breaching the east wall!" Someone shouted.

"Let them come," I ordered, positioning myself near the main entrance. "Lucas, take the high ground. You're a better shot from a distance."

He nodded, already moving toward the stairs, his movements fluid and confident. Who would have thought that my omega would become such a formidable fighter? But then again, nothing about our relationship had ever been conventional, and nothing about it would ever be.

The sound of gunfire erupted outside, followed by screams. My men were giving as good as they got, but Giovanni's forces had numbers on their side. Not that it mattered—quality always beat quantity.

"Marco!" Lucas's voice crackled through our earpieces. "They're trying to flank around the north side. Three men, heavily armed."

I signaled to Salvatore, who immediately moved to intercept. The years of working together meant we barely needed words anymore.

The main doors burst open, and chaos erupted. Giovanni's men poured in, guns blazing, but we were ready. I dropped two before they could properly aim, their bodies hitting the floor with dull thuds. From above, Lucas provided precise cover fire, each shot finding its mark.

"Boss!" Antonio's voice came through the comm. "The twins are secure. We're moving to the secondary location now."

Relief flooded through me, knowing our sons were safe. Now we could focus entirely on ending this threat once and for all.

"Giovanni's here," Lucas reported suddenly. "Third car, just pulled up. He's staying back, letting his men do the dirty work."

"Coward," I spat, ducking behind a pillar as bullets sprayed past. Despite saying that, I wasn't surprised. "Always was, always will be."

More explosions rocked the building, and I heard Lucas curse. "They're trying to bring down the upper floor. I need to move."

"Be careful," I ordered, my heart clenching at the thought of him in danger. But I knew better than to try and stop him—he was as stubborn as I was, maybe more so. It was one of his qualities.

I moved through the chaos like a ghost, years of experience guiding my actions. Every shot counted, and every move had a purpose. Giovanni's men were good, but they lacked the desperation of someone protecting their family. They weren't like me and my men.

"Marco, on your six!" Lucas's warning came just in time. I spun, catching my would-be assassin with a quick double-tap to the chest. Above me, I heard Lucas engage in his own firefight, his controlled bursts of gunfire reassuring me he was holding his own.

"We need to end this," I growled into the comm. "Giovanni's not going to stop unless we stop him permanently."

"I have an idea," Lucas replied, and something in his tone made me nervous. "But you're not going to like it."

"Lucas-"

"Trust me," he cut me off. "Like you taught me to trust you."

Before I could argue, he was moving. I caught glimpses of him through the smoke and chaos, making his way toward the east side of the building. What was he planning?

Understanding hit me just as he reached his position. "You're creating a killbox," I realized, pride warring with concern.

"They think they're herding us," he confirmed. "But we're really herding them."

It was a brilliant plan, I had to admit. Giovanni's forces were so focused on pushing forward that they didn't realize they were being funneled into a trapped position.

"Salvatore," I barked into the comm. "Get ready to spring the trap."

The trap closed like a well-orchestrated dance of death. From his elevated position, Lucas methodically picked off anyone who tried to break formation or retreat, his shots precise and calculated. I'd taught him well—each bullet found its mark with deadly efficiency. He wasn't just shooting; he was controlling the battlefield, forcing our enemies exactly where we wanted them.

Meanwhile, my men and I advanced in a disciplined sweep, pushing forward from three directions. Salvatore led his team from the west, while Romano's group pressed in from the east. I spearheaded the central thrust, each of us moving in perfect synchronization, forcing Giovanni's increasingly panicked men into a tighter and tighter space in the building's main hall. The walls amplified each shot into thunder, turning the space into a chamber of explosive fury.

Their tactics fell apart as they realized they were being herded. Some tried to break for the exits, only to be cut down by Lucas's covering fire. Others attempted to stand their ground, but found themselves caught in devastating crossfire from multiple angles. The space between the columns became a killing ground, with nowhere to hide and no escape route left uncovered. Bodies began to pile up as Giovanni's men, trained but not prepared for this level of tactical precision, fell one by one.

I could see the fear in their eyes as they realized their mistake. They'd come expecting to find a distracted crime boss, weakened by family obligations. Instead, they'd walked into a carefully laid trap, executed by a mated pair who'd learned to fight as one. Every attempt to regroup or counterattack was met with immediate, coordinated response—if they tried to concentrate their forces, they'd be picked off by Lucas from above; if they tried to scatter, they'd run straight into my advancing teams. The trap was as much psychological as it was physical, and watching it unfold filled me with a fierce pride in what Lucas and I had become together.

Then I saw him—Giovanni himself, finally entering the building, probably thinking victory was within his grasp. The fool. I was going to have his life.

"He's mine," I growled into the comm.

"We've got you covered," Lucas replied, understanding in his voice.

I moved through the battlefield like a wraith, my focus narrowed to a single target. Giovanni saw me coming, his eyes widening in recognition and fear. Good. He should be afraid.

"It's over, Giovanni," I called out, my voice carrying over the diminishing gunfire. "You lost the moment you threatened my family."

He raised his gun, but we both knew he was too slow. My first shot took him in the shoulder, spinning him around. The second hit his knee, dropping him to the floor. Perfect.

"Please," he gasped, clutching his wounds. "We can make a deal-"

"No deals," I cut him off, advancing slowly. "You came after my mate. My children. There's only one way this ends."

A movement caught my eye—one of Giovanni's men, not quite dead, raising his gun toward the upper level where Lucas was positioned. Time seemed to slow as I realized what was about to happen.

"Lucas!" I shouted, already moving, but I was too far away.

The shot rang out, but it wasn't followed by what I feared. Instead, Lucas's return fire was instantaneous and lethal. The would-be shooter collapsed, and I heard my mate's dry chuckle through the comm.

"I saw him," he said simply. "I'm not as easily surprised as I used to be."

Relief and pride surged through me as I turned back to Giovanni. He was trying to crawl away, leaving a trail of blood on the floor.

"Your men are dead or captured," I informed him coldly. "Your territory will be absorbed into mine. And you?" I raised my gun. "You're about to become a cautionary tale about what happens when someone threatens my family."

"Wait-" he began, but I'd heard enough. Three shots rang out in quick succession, and Giovanni DeLuca ceased to be a problem.

"Clear!" Salvatore's voice came through the comm, followed by similar confirmations from other sectors of the building.

I looked up to where Lucas was making his way down to ground level, his movements still careful and controlled. When he reached me, I pulled him into a fierce embrace, not caring about the blood and gunpowder staining our clothes.

"That was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," I murmured into his hair.

He laughed softly. "I learned from the best. Besides, no one threatens our babies and lives to tell about it. No one."

I pulled back to look at him, really look at him. His face was smudged with dirt and gunpowder, and his clothes were torn and bloodied, but his eyes... his eyes shone with the same fierce love and determination that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"The twins?" He asked, though we both knew Antonio would have contacted us if anything had gone wrong.

"Safe," I confirmed. "Antonio will bring them back once we've secured the area."

He nodded, then surprised me by pulling me down for a kiss that tasted of gunpowder and victory. "I've been thinking," he said when we parted. "Maybe we should consider retiring. Find a nice, quiet place to raise our boys. Do you think that's possible?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Retirement? You?"

"Well, semi-retirement," he amended with a grin. "Keep enough business to stay interesting, but maybe fewer midnight gunfights?"

"Whatever you want, amore," I promised, knowing I'd give him the world if he asked for it. "Although I have to admit, you've become quite good at the midnight gunfights."

"Had to," he shrugged. "Someone needs to watch your back, old man."

Before I could respond, Salvatore approached me with news about the cleanup operation. As I listened to his report, I kept one arm around Lucas, marveling at how much had changed since that first night at Nightshade.

That wide-eyed art student who'd stumbled into cartel territory had evolved into something deadly—an omega who could orchestrate territory deals as smoothly as he could cradle our twins. Together, we'd built more than a family; we'd created a new kind of power that made old pack hierarchies look like children's stories.

"Boss," Antonio's voice came through our comms. "The twins are asking for their papà."

Lucas smiled up at me. "Duty calls. Ready to go home?"

"With you?" I pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Always."

We stepped over bullet casings and broken bodies, leaving our cleanup crew to erase the evidence of what happens when you target a cartel alpha's family. My omega—barely old enough to drink—moved with the fluid grace of someone twice his age, gun still warm at his hip. All those years I'd spent building my reputation for ruthlessness, and he'd surpassed it in mere months. Not because he craved power like I once had, but because he'd found something worth becoming a monster for—two tiny heartbeats that called him Papa.

And in Lucas, in our sons, in the family we'd built together, I'd found something worth everything.

The war was over. We'd won. And now, we had a lifetime ahead of us to enjoy our victory.