Page 41 of Ruined By Blood (Feretti Syndicate #2)

I cross the distance between us in two strides, my patience snapping like a dry twig. My hand closes around Henry Sterling's throat, lifting him partially out of his chair.

"I'm done with your games," I growl, squeezing just enough to make his eyes widen with genuine fear.

The click of weapons being drawn echoes through the room. Four guards aim their guns at my head, but I don't release my grip.

"Hold your fire!" Henry chokes out, his face reddening under my grip. "Stand down!"

The guards remain steel, weapons trained on me while I keep Henry dangling. His expensive Italian shoes barely touch the ground.

"You think I came here without a plan?" I tighten my fingers, feeling his pulse race beneath my palm. "You think I'd walk into your house unprepared?"

A shot rings out. Sharp and decisive.

One of Henry's guards drops to the floor, a neat hole in his forehead. Before the others can react, a second shot follows, then a third. Bodies hit the floor in rapid succession.

The remaining guard swings his weapon toward the shooter but freezes when he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun held by his own colleague. Noah. My infiltration insurance.

In the same moment, Charlotte pulls a small pistol from inside her sleeve, pressing it against Henry's temple. Her hand is surprisingly steady.

Henry's eyes bulge, darting between his wife's face and the gun at his head.

I release his throat and step back, straightening my jacket. "You always underestimated her, didn't you?"

The room falls silent except for Henry's ragged breathing.

Noah kicks the fallen guards' weapons away, checking each body efficiently. "Clear," he announces, moving to secure the door.

"You had a man on the inside," Henry says, his voice hoarse from my grip. "How?"

"You should pay your people better," I reply with a cold smile. "Or treat them with a shred of human dignity. Either works."

My eyes find Sienna, who sits frozen in her chair, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes .

The door bursts open behind us, and I don't need to turn to know who it is. The steady rhythm of familiar footsteps tells me everything.

Alessio strides in, flanked by six of our men, all armed and radiating lethal purpose. His gaze sweeps the room, taking in the dead guards, Noah's position, Charlotte's gun at Henry's head, and finally settling on Sienna's bruised face.

"Mr. Sterling," Alessio says, his voice pleasant as if greeting a business associate at lunch. "Pleasure to finally meet you face to face."

Henry's composure cracks further. "What is the meaning of this? You can't just?—"

"Your security team was quite impressive on paper," Alessio continues, ignoring the interruption. "Twelve men on the perimeter, eight inside the house, four personal guards." He gestures to the bodies on the floor with a casual wave. "Unfortunately, they're all dead now."

Blood drains from Henry's face. "That's impossible."

Alessio's thumb brushes along his bottom lip as he considers Henry. "You're left with exactly what's in this room. And us, of course."

Our men spread out, securing windows and positions by the doors. The takeover is swift, professional, practiced. We've done this before.

Henry's eyes dart around, looking for an escape route that doesn't exist. When he finds none, his gaze locks on me, hatred burning through the fear.

"You won't kill me," he snarls, desperation making his voice crack. "The repercussions would be catastrophic. You'll pay for this, Feretti. You and your entire family."

His words hang in the air, empty threats from a man who has finally realized he's lost everything .

I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a register that makes even my own men tense.

"You're right," I say, watching confusion flicker across his face. "I'm not going to kill you."

Hope flashes in his eyes.

I smile.

"Not yet, anyway." I lean forward until our faces are inches apart. "First, I'm going to make you suffer. I'm going to take everything you've built. I'm going to dismantle your empire piece by piece while you watch. I'm going to introduce you to pain you didn't know existed."

I straighten up, adjusting my cuffs. "And then, when you're begging for death? Then I'll kill you."

Henry's face contorts with rage and terror, understanding finally dawning that this isn't a negotiation. It's a sentence.

"Alessio," I say without looking away from Henry, "secure him."

I can't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding in my father's study. The room spins around me as if I'm trapped in some fever dream. My mother stands before me, holding a gun to my father's head with trembling but determined hands.

And Enzo. Fierce, protective Enzo who promised to keep me safe, who showed me what gentle touches feel like, is here too, turning my father's empire to ash around us.

None of this feels real. Just days ago, I was resigned to becoming Cortez's possession. Now the walls of my gilded prison crumble before my eyes.

My father's eyes narrow, his mask of composure slipping to reveal the monster beneath. "Feretti," he spits, shifting tactics. "If you care about my daughter as much as you claim, you'd never hurt her by killing her own father. Blood is blood, after all."

A cold laugh escapes Enzo's lips, chilling and utterly without humor. His eyes remain arctic as they lock on my father.

"Blood?" Enzo says, his voice deceptively soft. "You speak of blood while Sienna's is still dried on your knuckles?"

He steps closer to my father, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, the barely contained rage. But then something shifts in his expression, and a smile spreads across his face.

"You know what, Henry? You're really funny." Enzo's voice drops to a conversational tone that somehow sounds more threatening than his anger. "Talking about blood and family when you've spent years torturing your own daughter."

My father's eyes dart between Enzo and my mother, calculation written in every line of his face.

Enzo continues, "Let me make something perfectly clear. I would burn this entire world to the ground if she even asked for it." His voice carries absolute conviction. "Your life means nothing to me. In fact, watching you die would bring me immense satisfaction. "

He pauses, then turns away from my father to find me standing frozen by the door. His eyes soften immediately, the transformation so complete it takes my breath away.

"Sienna," he says gently, extending his hand. "Come here, baby."

My legs feel weighted as I cross the room. The carpet beneath my feet seems to stretch endlessly. When I finally reach Enzo, his hand finds mine, warm and steady.

"What would you like me to do with your father?" he asks, his eyes never leaving mine. "This is your choice. Whatever you want."

The room falls silent. I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. I turn to look at my mother, her face clear and determined for the first time in years. The gun in her hand doesn't waver.

Then I look my father in the eyes.

Something shifts in his expression as he reads mine.

"Sienna," he says, his voice losing its commanding edge. "You're my daughter. My flesh and blood. You wouldn't?—"

"Wouldn't what?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady. "Wouldn't want you to suffer like you made me suffer? Like you made my mother suffer?"

It's strange to watch him beg me for mercy. After years of cowering before him, years of pleading for kindness that never came, the reversal feels unbelievable. This powerful man, this monster who controlled every aspect of my life, now looks at me with desperation.

I take a deep breath and make my decision.

"I want him to suffer," I say, the words like poison finally draining from my veins. "And then I want him to die."

I step back as my father's face contorts with fury. The mask of desperate pleading drops away completely, revealing the true monster beneath .

"You whore," he snarls, lunging forward despite Alessio's restraining grip. "After everything I've given you. This is how you repay me?"

"Given me?" I find my voice.

"I should have drowned you at birth like the worthless?—"

The rest of his words vanish in a sickening crack as Enzo's fist connects with my father's jaw. The impact echoes through the study like a gunshot. My father's head snaps back, eyes rolling up before he crumples to the floor.

Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth onto the Persian carpet he always boasted cost more than most people's cars. He lies there, unconscious, looking smaller somehow. Just a man. Not the all-powerful monster who's haunted my nightmares.

Two of the remaining guards start forward.

"I wouldn't," Alessio says calmly, his gun appearing in his hand without seeming to move. "Think very carefully about your next action, gentlemen. Your boss just threatened a woman under Feretti protection in front of witnesses."

The guards hesitate, exchanging uncertain glances.

"Is Sterling worth dying for?" Alessio continues, his voice almost conversational. "Because I assure you, that's exactly what will happen if you move another inch."

The tallest guard slowly raises his hands. "What do you want us to do?"

"Stand down and stay still until someone tells you otherwise," Alessio suggests with the casual air of someone discussing the weather rather than life and death. "Seems like the healthiest option for everyone involved."

I watch the tension drain from their postures as weapons are lowered. These men, who for years enforced my father's will without question, now look lost without his direction.

Enzo kneels beside my father's unconscious form, checking his pulse with clinical detachment. Satisfied, he stands and turns to Alessio.

"Take him," Enzo commands, nodding toward my father. "Secure him in the car. Make sure he's bound tight enough that he won't cause problems when he wakes up."

Alessio nods, motioning to Noah who steps forward to help him lift my father's limp body.

"Everyone out," Enzo announces, his voice filling the room with authority. His eyes scan the faces of my father's men still lingering in the doorway. "Clear this office now."

The guards begin filing out, their movements stiff with uncertainty.

"Wait," Enzo calls after them. "You all stay in the house. Mrs. Sterling may need your assistance with family matters."

My mother straightens at these words, the gun now lowered but still firm in her grip.

"Thank you," she says to Enzo, her voice soft but steady. She turns to the guards. "I'll let you know if your services are required."

They nod to her before retreating from the room.