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“Are you sure, Bunny?” I ask softly, making certain she understands the gravity of her decision. I know how difficult it must be for her, yet I also recognize the necessity of this moment. Don Genovese has been a poison in her life, strangling her dreams and happiness, and it’s time to put an end to his tyranny.
She hesitates, her chest heaving with ragged breaths, before giving a barely perceptible nod. I understand her fear; after all, this is her father we’re talking about. But the manstanding before us is no longer the parent she once knew, if he ever was.
I lock eyes with her and nod.
I watch as Ivan approaches Caterina cautiously, his movements slow and deliberate as he reaches for the gun in her trembling grasp. The weight of it leaves her hands, and I see her visibly relax, even if only slightly. He gently puts his arm over Caterina’s shoulders, and turns her away to walk toward the car. “Come, sister,” he whispers. “Emiliana is in there. You are safe at last, and we are so thankful to the stars.”
As he leads her away from the tense scene, I keep my own gun trained on Don Genovese, unwilling to let my guard down for even a second.
As I recall Caterina’s silent request, my heart pounds like a war drum in my chest. My grip tightens around the gun, and I can feel the cold metal press against my palm, its icy touch burning my skin. In that instant, I am made acutely aware of the weight of our actions, and I swear upon my love for her that I will bear the consequences, whatever they may be.
“Any last words, Don Genovese?” I ask, my voice laced with a venomous calm. The old man sneers at me in his classic manner, and to my disgust, he yells at Caterina’s retreating figure.
“Come back here, Caterina! You ungrateful child! You’re nothing without me!” the don screams, his voice cracking with desperation. “I fed you. I clothed your bastard child. And you’re going to betray me? For what? The fucking Bratva? You’re just like your mother.” He begins ranting even more vile words when Caterina doesn’t return. “I should have had you killed for getting pregnant…”
His attempts to manipulate Caterina’s emotions make my blood boil, but I can’t help but marvel at her strength. She doesn’t falter or turn back; she continues walking toward the car.
“You never deserved a daughter as wonderful as Caterina,” I spit at him, my voice seething with anger. “She has more courage, compassion, and intelligence than you could ever dream of possessing.”
As Caterina reaches the car, I watch her climb inside and wrap her arms around Emiliana, the two of them finding solace in each other’s embrace. Their safety is paramount to me, and this small moment of tenderness brings a sense of relief amidst the chaos.
And then, the car turns and slowly begins to drive away. For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to imagine a future free from the violence and corruption that have shadowed us for so long—a future where Caterina, Emiliana, and I can live peacefully, far from the influence of our families. But that moment is short-lived, as I’m brought back to the present by the sight of Don Genovese’s twisted grimace. His eyes are filled with a poison only a man who has lost everything can possess, and it serves as a chilling reminder of what lies ahead.
“Your time is over,” I tell him, my voice steady and unwavering. “You’ve caused enough pain and destruction in this world, and it ends now.”
And with that, I pull the trigger.
His body crumples at my feet. Blood pools on the concrete, but I feel no remorse for this act of vengeance. The don brought it upon himself when he dragged my Caterina and my daughter into his games.
I wipe my gun, put it back in the holster, and nod at my men. “Spare the injured and alive. Return the dead to be buried.”
And with that, Don Genovese’s empire has come to an end. Now, the Bratva are the strongest hold in Philadelphia.
Chapter 24 - Caterina
The black SUV lurches to a stop in the courtyard, its engines rumbling before going silent. Emiliana sags against me in relief and I pull her closer, giving her forehead a millionth kiss. My poor baby is left so traumatized after the past few days, and I just pray we can help ease her emotional pain in the days to come.
“We made it, Caterina,” Sergei murmurs, squeezing my shoulder.
I nod, exhaustion seeping into my bones. The constant fear and vigilance over the past few days have me drained. But now, surrounded by the high stone walls and armed guards, I can relax. We are safe here. The Zolotovs will protect us.
But then I remember the traveling sound of the gunshot, and my chest goes numb. Protect us from whom? Our worst enemy is gone. Tears come to my eyes at the realization that I lacked a childhood of love after my mother died. I never had a father the way other people did, and it leaves a hole no one can fill.
But Emiliana, Emiliana will see love from her father. Of that, I am sure.
The doors are flung open and I stumble out on shaky legs, Emiliana in my arms. Vanya’s sturdy frame comes closer to support me. “You’re safe,” she murmurs, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Then, she takes Emiliana from my arms and into her own. “My darling girl,” she cries, burying her face in Emiliana’s neck. “My precious baby. My niece.”
A lump forms in my throat, threatening to shed tears of joy. This is what a family looks like. At last, my daughter will have what I never did.
My gaze darts around the courtyard, cataloging possible threats and escape routes by instinct before I catch myself. No need for that anymore.
Ivan’s wife Audrey barrels into me, wrapping me in a fierce hug that knocks the breath from my lungs. “Thank God you’re alright,” she whispers hoarsely. Over her shoulder, I meet Ivan’s and Sergei’s solemn gazes and nod in gratitude. They’ve risked everything to get me and my daughter here safely.
I pull back, wiping my eyes and giving her a tremulous smile. Then, I turn to everyone. “Thank you. For everything. Words can’t express…”
They nod, Ivan’s stony facade cracking slightly as he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. Before more can be said, the rumble of an approaching engine draws our attention. A sleek black car rolls through the open gates, flanked by more of Mikhail’s men.
My heart stutters as he steps out, piercing gaze finding mine immediately. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. After hours apart, losing hope I’d ever see him again, he is here. Real. Alive.
