Page 95 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings

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 severallocations, 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.

twenty-three

. . .

I jolted awake with a gasp, my heart pounding violently. The nightmare dissolved rapidly, leaving behind only fragments—hands that had mapped every inch of my traitorous body, voices promising things I couldn’t quite remember.

Two months of so-called freedom, and I still couldn’t escape them in my sleep. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Get it together, Ty,” I said, untangling myself from sheets that wrapped tightly around me. “They’re just dreams. Not premonitions. Not memories you secretly cherish. Just your brain’s sadistic way of saying ‘hey, remember that trauma? Let’s relive it!’”

The digital clock on my nightstand glared an accusatory four thirty-seven a.m. at me. Too early to start my glamorous day of dishwashing, too late to hope for more restful sleep. The universe’s way of saying I didn’t deserve either rest or productivity.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, flipping on the shower and letting the water heat, or attempt to heat, since “hot” in this building meant “slightly less cold than the Arctic.” Whilewaiting, I made the mistake of studying my reflection in the cracked mirror. Two months of freedom had transformed me into something that looked like freedom’s malnourished cousin.