"You destroyed everything," he said, voice rough with rage.
"You took my family." I kept my gun trained on his chest. "What did you expect?"
"We're family, Cassian. Blood."
"You forfeited that right when you kidnapped a two-and-a-half-year-old."
Matteo's hand twitched toward his gun. I moved faster. I closed the distance in two strides, my hand clamping around his wrist before he could raise the weapon. A sharp twist, and his gun clattered onto the floor. He swung at me with his free hand. I caught it, spun him, and locked my forearm across his throat.
"You're done," I said quietly in his ear. "Walk away. Disappear. That's the only mercy you're getting."
He struggled, gasping. "This… isn't… over—"
"Yes, it is. Marco has evidence of everything. The families will know that you threatened a child. You're finished." I stared at him. "You need to disappear. Because if I ever see you again, I won't show mercy twice."
I tightened my grip until his struggles weakened, then released him. He collapsed against the wall, coughing, defeated.
I retrieved his gun and ejected the magazine, tossing both in opposite directions.
Then I heard it—Leo's voice. "Cass'an? Cass, where are you?"
Small footsteps on metal stairs.
I released Matteo, letting him collapse. "Isla! Keep him back!"
Too late. Leo appeared around the corner, Isla right behind him, her face panicked.
My son looked at me—at Matteo slumped against the wall, gasping for air. At the gun still in my hand.
"Bad man," Leo said, pointing. "Took Mama."
"I know. I holstered my weapon and moved toward them. But it's over now. He can't hurt anyone anymore."
"You hurt him?"
I looked at Isla. She stood frozen, watching me. Waiting.
I crouched down to his level. "I stopped him. That's different."
Leo studied my face, processing. Then his small arms reached for me. "Up."
I scooped him up, and he buried his face in my neck.
As I started down the stairs, Matteo's cries followed me. I didn’t look back at him.
"Let's go home," I said to Isla.
We moved fast down the stairs, my arm around both of them. The building groaned around us, another explosion shaking the walls. Dust and debris rained down.
"Exit's this way," my tactical escort called, weapon raised, clearing the path ahead.
We burst through the emergency exit into the night. Cold air hit my lungs, sharp and clean after the smoke. The warehouse behind us burned, flames licking through broken windows, black smoke billowing into the Brooklyn sky.
Dmitri's team was everywhere—securing the perimeter, weapons trained on the building, ready for any of Matteo's men who might try to follow.
"Boss!" Marco appeared from behind one of the SUVs, relief flooding his face. "You got them."
"Where's the exfil route?"
