Page 62 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings (Alpha Mafia Kings #1)

twenty-two

. . .

The door closed behind Ty with a soft click, but his scent lingered—jasmine and lilies now layered with the unmistakable markers of their combined claim.

Anders inhaled deeply, savoring the complex aroma of omega satisfaction mixed with fear and determination.

The contradictory elements were intoxicating, much like Ty himself.

He’d felt Ty slipping from his arms in the predawn hours, the careful way he’d extracted himself from their collective embrace.

Anders had nearly tightened his hold instinctively, the alpha in him rebelling at the thought of his little mouse moving away, but he’d forced himself to maintain the illusion of sleep.

Had allowed Ty his small victory, this temporary escape.

Across from him, Wyatt’s stormy eyes opened, alert despite his apparent slumber. A silent communication passed between them—acknowledgment that they’d both been awake, both felt Ty’s departure, both chose to let him go. For now.

“He’s running tonight,” Conall said. “You can smell it on him—determination, adrenaline, resolve.”

Anders nodded, his ice-blue eyes still fixed on the door through which Ty had disappeared. “Let him run. He won’t get far.”

The memory of Ty’s body was seared into his mind—the graceful arch of his spine as pleasure overtook him, the perfect tightness of his entrance, the small sounds he made when trying to suppress his enjoyment.

Most satisfying of all had been the moment of surrender, when Ty’s resistance had crumbled completely and he’d given himself over to the pleasure they provided.

But it was more than physical satisfaction that lingered. The way Ty’s eyes had softened in unguarded moments. How his sharp tongue had faltered when Anders had touched him with unexpected gentleness. The vulnerability he’d tried so hard to hide beneath layers of sarcasm and defiance.

“He took us beautifully,” Conall said, echoing Anders’ thoughts.

“Ours,” Wyatt said simply, his stormy eyes never leaving the door Ty had disappeared through.

Anders smiled at Wyatt’s directness. One word that conveyed everything his sworn brother felt about their little mouse.

“His eyes,” Anders said, surprising himself with the observation. “Did you notice how they changed color when he came? Hazel to almost gold.”

“I was more focused on how his scent changed,” Conall admitted. “That moment when fear and reluctance gave way to pure omega need. Intoxicating.”

Wyatt nodded, his hand unconsciously clenching the sheets where Ty had lain.

“We take him alive,” Anders declared. “Unharmed. He’s ours to protect, ours to claim properly.”

The memory of Ty’s body yielding to his made Anders’ cock harden despite their recent activities.

The little mouse had been exquisite—responsive beyond what heat alone could explain, his inner walls gripping Anders with perfect pressure, his scent changing subtly as pleasure overtook fear.

Anders wanted that again—wanted to experience Ty’s surrender when it wasn’t clouded by heat or coercion, when it was given freely.

“Ready soon,” Wyatt said, pulling Anders back to the immediate concerns of their escape. “Viktor’s men in place.”

Anders nodded, testing his restraints again. The metal cuffs were still secure around his wrist, but he could feel the difference in the wall housing that contained the mechanical retraction system. Viktor’s men had been systematically weakening it for days.

“Tonight,” Anders said, returning to the immediate concern of their escape. “We move at midnight, during the shift change.”

Conall nodded, testing his restraints again. The metal creaked, stretching further than it had yesterday. “Tonight,” he agreed.

Wyatt gave a single, precise nod. “Maximum confusion.”

As the day progressed, Anders grew increasingly restless. Ty hadn’t returned since his predawn escape from their bed.

The compound fell quiet as night deepened, the skeleton crew of guards making their rounds with predictable regularity. Anders counted the footsteps as they passed, timed the intervals between checks. Eleven forty-five. Almost time.

The door to their chamber opened at precisely eleven fifty-three, a single guard entering for the final security check of the night. The man was new—inexperienced, sloppy in his movements, attention partially focused on his clipboard rather than the three alphas he’d been warned about. Perfect.

The guard sneered, making a cursory glance around the room. “I don’t know why we bother with the routine. You’ll be dead soon enough once the old man gets what he wants.”

Anders caught Conall’s eye, a silent communication passing between them. Conall gave an imperceptible nod, then groaned loudly, his body convulsing on the bed.

“What the fuck?” The guard approached cautiously, hand moving to his weapon. “Hey, stop that shit.”

Conall’s convulsions intensified, foam appearing at the corners of his mouth—a trick he’d perfected years ago during an undercover operation. The guard moved closer, suspicious but concerned.

“If he dies, De Luca will have your head,” Anders said conversationally. “He needs us alive for breeding.”

The guard hesitated, then stepped between the beds, leaning over Conall to check his condition. It was the last mistake he would ever make.

Conall’s convulsions stopped instantly. His hand shot out, the restraint stretching just enough to allow him to grasp the guard’s throat in a crushing grip.

Before the man could react, Wyatt’s leg swept up, his ankle restraint giving just enough slack for him to lock his calf around the guard’s neck from the other side.

The guard’s scream died in his throat as Conall’s grip tightened. Anders watched with cold satisfaction as the light faded from the man’s eyes, his struggles weakening until he went limp.

“Clean,” Anders approved as Conall released the body, letting it slump to the floor.

Wyatt’s fingers brushed the guard’s belt, then closed around the key ring. With precise movements, he worked the keys free and tossed them to Anders.

Anders caught them one-handed, the restraint around his wrist stretching to its limit. He worked quickly, unlocking first his own restraints, then Conall’s, then Wyatt’s. The sensation of freedom after weeks of captivity sent a surge of savage pleasure through his system.

“Weapons,” he said, stripping the guard of his handgun and spare magazines. Conall took the guard’s knife, testing its balance with a practiced flick of his wrist. Wyatt appropriated the man’s radio, checking frequencies, his stormy eyes revealing nothing as he methodically prepared for bloodshed.

“Viktor’s men in position,” Wyatt said. He checked the guard’s phone with a single glance, absorbing the information with tactical efficiency.

The Trinity Syndicate’s security protocols were legendary for a reason.

Within hours of their disappearance after the Montecito Hotel bombing, Viktor had mobilized their entire intelligence network.

Hospital records were accessed, security footage analyzed, witnesses interrogated.

When they discovered the three alphas had been transferred from Saint Michael’s Hospital under suspicious circumstances, the hunt had begun in earnest. Within days, Viktor’s men had infiltrated De Luca’s security team.

They could have been extracted immediately, but Anders had given explicit orders to wait.

Ty had complicated things. What had begun as a simple rescue operation had evolved into something more complex, more personal.

The Trinity wanted not just freedom, but retribution—and the little mouse who had stolen their hearts against all odds.

“Let’s move,” Anders said, adjusting his grip on the handgun.

They moved to the door, Anders taking point, Wyatt on his six, Conall covering their flanks. The corridor outside was empty, the night shift guards stationed at strategic points throughout the compound rather than patrolling constantly.

They encountered their first resistance at the junction leading to the main hallway—two guards chatting idly, completely unprepared for the three predators bearing down on them.

Conall’s knife found the first guard’s throat before he could even reach for his weapon.

Anders took the second with a single shot to the head, the sound suppressed by the silencer he’d attached to the guard’s weapon.

“Clear,” Wyatt said as he checked the bodies and took a second handgun.

They continued through the compound, moving with the silent efficiency that had made the Trinity Syndicate one of the most feared organizations in the city. Two more guards fell to their advance, neither managing to raise the alarm.

As they approached the corridor leading to De Luca’s office, they heard a commotion ahead—shouting, the slamming of doors, the sound of a vehicle engine starting.

“De Luca’s running,” Conall said, his usual charm replaced by cold calculation.

Anders’ jaw tightened. “He heard us coming.”

The compound’s alarm system suddenly blared to life, red emergency lights bathing the corridors in a bloody glow. Guards began shouting, boots pounding on concrete as De Luca’s security forces mobilized.

“Extraction team moving in,” Wyatt reported after checking the guard’s radio. “East and north entrances.”

“Good.” Anders nodded. “Let’s get to Ty before this place becomes a war zone.”

They rushed back toward Ty’s quarters. When they reached Ty’s door, they found it standing open, the room empty.

“He’s gone,” Conall said, scanning the room quickly.

Anders inhaled deeply, catching Ty’s distinctive scent—jasmine and lilies, laced with fear and determination. “Service entrance.”

“De Luca’s vehicle spotted heading west,” Wyatt said after checking the guard’s radio again. “Extraction team engaging.”

Anders made a split-second decision. “We find Ty first. De Luca can wait.”

They reached the service entrance just in time to see the door swinging shut. Anders pushed through it into the cool night air, his senses immediately locking on to Ty’s scent trail. In the distance, a small figure was sprinting toward the industrial district beyond the compound’s perimeter.

“There,” Anders pointed toward the industrial district where Ty’s scent trail led. “He’s heading for the factories.”

Without hesitation, the three alphas broke into pursuit. Behind them, the compound erupted in gunfire and explosions as their extraction team engaged De Luca’s security forces. The chaos would provide perfect cover for their hunt.

“Spread out,” Anders ordered as they approached the industrial zone. “Wyatt, eastern approach. Conall, circle west. I’ll pursue directly. We’ll cover more ground.”

They separated, each taking a different route through the maze of abandoned buildings. Anders followed Ty’s scent trail, moving with predatory silence despite his size. The omega was clever, changing direction frequently, but the scent of fear and determination was impossible to mask completely.

Occasionally, Anders encountered De Luca’s men also searching for the escaped omega. He dispatched them with ruthless efficiency, not allowing anyone else to threaten what belonged to the Trinity.

“Any sign?” Conall’s voice came through their comms.

“Trail’s getting colder,” Anders replied, frustration evident in his tone. “He’s hiding his tracks well.”

“Perimeter check negative,” Wyatt reported. “He’s still in the industrial zone.”

Anders continued his methodical search, moving from building to building. The omega’s scent lingered in several locations, evidence that Ty was using the abandoned structures for temporary shelter before moving on.

As dawn approached, Anders was forced to acknowledge that their prey had eluded them, at least for now. The first light revealed the industrial district in all its decaying glory, but no sign of their omega.

“Viktor,” Anders called into his comm. “Status report.”

“Compound secured,” came the reply. “De Luca escaped during the initial breach. Our teams lost him at the city limits.”

Anders’ jaw tightened. Both their targets had slipped away. “Expand the search. I want eyes on every transportation hub, shelter, and hospital in the city.”

“Yes, sir. What are our priorities?”

“The omega,” Anders replied without hesitation. “Ty Hart. Find him.”

As the extraction team arrived to collect them, Anders took one last look at the industrial wasteland where their omega had successfully evaded three apex predators. Rather than anger, he felt a surge of pride. Their little mouse had proven himself worthy of the chase.

“He’s resourceful,” Conall said as they climbed into the waiting SUV.

“Smart,” Wyatt added with grudging respect.

Anders nodded, a cold smile forming on his lips. “The hunt has just begun. And when we find him?—”

“When,” Conall emphasized.

“—he’ll understand exactly what it means to belong to us.”

The SUV sped through the breaking dawn, carrying them away from the battlefield and toward the next phase of their campaign. Somewhere in the city, a small omega was running, thinking himself free of both De Luca and the three alphas who had claimed him.

Run far, little thief. Run fast.

The hunt had just begun. And Anders intended to savor every moment of it.