I didn't pull away, but my jaw clenched, the muscles ticking like a bomb. Anton shifted uneasily behind me, but stayed silent, letting the venom spill.
"I sold Rowena off to teach her a lesson," Marcus snarled on, his voice rising, feverish now, the words tumbling out like an abscess lanced. "Showed Valentina what happens when you cross a Krogen. Thought it'd break her, make her heel, keep her mouth shut. But the slut? She gotclever. Snuck into my study one night while I was out closing a deal, rifled through the safe like she owned it. Found the ledgers, the real ones, with every dirty secret inked in black and white. Shipments, payoffs, the girls... all of it. Next morning, she's waving them in my face, threatening to burn it all down. Call the feds, the press, anyone who’d listen.'I'll drag you to hell with me,'she says. Tears streaming, that fake saint's face twisted ugly."
He released my lapel with a shove, slumping back, chest heaving. "Couldn't risk it. The empire,ourempire, built on those pages. One leak, and it's ash. Prisons for life, or worse. All because of her lies, her betrayal. She wasn't fit to raise my kids,realones. So yeah, I did it. Told you boys it was the stress, the 'family burdens.' And it worked, didn't it? Until you two ungrateful shits started digging."
The warehouse fell silent, save for the distant drip of water from a leaking pipe, a metronome to the unraveling. I rose slowly, my face a mask of stone, boiled with a grief too vast for rage. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Aurelia — pale, shaken, eyes locked on me. Even through the haze of fury and loss, that single look steadied something in me. She was the reminder that I hadn’t become him. Not yet. Anton placed a hand on my shoulder, a silent anchor, but I shrugged it off gently, stepping back to survey the man who'd sired him, broken, exposed, human at last.
"You built nothing worth saving," I said finally, his voice quiet, final, carrying the weight of Lila's ghost, Valentina's shadow, Rowena's absence, all the fractures Marcus had hammered into their bloodline. "Empires on lies, lives on graves. You taught me to kill, Father. To protect 'what's ours.' But this? This is mercy's opposite. This is justice." I drew the pistol again, the barrel steady now, aimed true at the center of Marcus's chest. "And know, in whatever hell waits, that the Butcher was always your mirror."
Marcus didn’t stay down. With a guttural roar, he launched himself forward. A last burst of animal strength. He slammed into me, knocking the gun from my hand as we hit the concrete. The impact jarred my shoulders, but I absorbed it, rolling with the momentum so he couldn’t pin me fully.
His fist clipped my jaw. A sharp crack of pain but I didn’t go still or dazed. I twisted, my elbow driving hard into his ribs, forcing a grunt from his chest. He swung again but I blocked with my forearm, the blow glancing off harmlessly. His hands shot toward my throat. He barely closed them before I tore them away, my grip strong.
“You’re slower than you used to be.” I growled.
Anton tried to step in, but I jerked my head once. He lifted both hands in surrender and backed off immediately. This was mine.
Marcus lunged with another wild punch. I ducked it cleanly and buried my fist into his stomach. The breath whooshed out of him. His size gave him force, but size without technique is nothing. Every move he made was sloppy, powered by rage instead of skill. Still a desperate man hits hard.
His shoulder slammed into my side. Pain flared, but I stayed on my feet, using his momentum to flip him onto his back. The floorshook with the impact. He thrashed, trying to rise but I kicked his knee sideways. Ligament snapped. His scream tore through the warehouse.
He reached for a piece of broken crate like a club. But I grabbed his wrist mid-swing and twisted until bone cracked.
“You’re done,” I said, voice low. We grappled, rolling toward the shadows until his gaze suddenly shifted. Aurelia. Still restrained. Still terrified. Watching.
Marcus staggered upright, wheezing, and ripped a hidden knife from his boot. He lunged, grabbing Aurelia by the hair, yanking her against him. The blade pressed to her throat, sharp enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“Back off!” he rasped. “One more step and she dies.”
Aurelia’s breath hitched. Pure terror in her eyes.
Something inside me snapped. Then I moved. I feinted left. Marcus shifted his focus for a split second and I kicked his knee sideways. The joint buckled with a sickening pop. He screamed but kept hold of her. I grabbed his knife hand and twisted hard until bone cracked. The blade clattered to the floor. I shoved Aurelia aside to safety. Then there was no holding back.
I pinned Marcus to the ground, driving my knee into his chest until ribs cracked under my weight. His screams were hoarse, broken, but I didn’t let up. I snapped his fingers, quick, brutal breaks that echoed like small gunshots. His hands curled into useless mangled shapes.
My knife cut deep into his thigh, scraping bone. Blood poured out in hot waves.
“This is for Mom,” I said, stabbing his shoulder until the joint tore apart. “For Rowena.” Another slash opened his abdomen, blood pooling beneath him. “For every woman you trafficked.” His gurgling stopped as he slipped into delirium.
When his eyes rolled back, I pulled his jaw open and slashed his tongue, keeping him conscious through sheer cruelty. His own medicine.
Finally, when he was nothing but a shaking, ruined heap on the floor, I got to my feet. “And this,” I said, raising the gun, “is for Aurelia.”
The shot echoed like thunder, the bullet tearing straight through his skull. Marcus fell still. His empire ending in a pool of blood and silence.
The shot rang out, un-suppressed this time, a thunderclap in the gloom. Marcus jerked once, eyes glazing over mid-breath, then slumped, the life leaching from him like ink in water. The empire's king fell, un-mourned, into the dark.
Anton exhaled slowly, the warehouse's chill settling deeper. "It's done," he murmured, not a question. I didn't respond, just stared at the body, the pistol heavy in my grip.
Then I heard her. The faint sound of her breath, shaky, uneven. Aurelia.
The gun slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. My legs carried me before thought could. She was slumped against the pillar, wrists raw from the bindings, face streaked with tears and dust. When I reached her, my hands trembled for the first time all night. “It’s over,” I whispered, kneeling beside her. My voice cracked on the last word.
She blinked up at me, dazed, eyes searching my face like she wasn’t sure I was real. “Keith…” It was barely a breath.
I fumbled with the restraints, the zip ties biting into her skin. They snapped one by one, the sound harsh in the silence. When the last one fell away, she didn’t move, just stared. And then she folded forward, into me. I caught her, arms closing around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was shaking, her heartbeat thundering against my chest, grounding me in a way nothing else could.
“I thought…” she started, voice breaking.
