Page 103 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
Anders nodded, satisfaction curling through him. “And our omega’s position?”
“Secured, with improvements. Morning shifts only, away from customer areas.” Conall’s smile was cold. “The owner was quite receptive once I explained the alternatives.”
Anders cast a final look at the broken men on the concrete floor. “Have them delivered to the hospital. Anonymous drop-off. Make sure they understand that speaking about tonight would be… unhealthy.”
As they walked toward their waiting car, Conall fell into step beside Anders. “The restaurant is technically in our territory. The owner has been skimming from protection payments for years.”
“Has he now?” Anders raised an eyebrow. “Then perhaps a change in management is due.”
“Already arranged,” Conall confirmed. “He’ll sign over controlling interest by the end of the week.”
Anders smiled slightly. “Efficient as always.”
The car pulled away from the garage, leaving behind the bloodstained concrete and broken men. Anders gazed out thewindow at the passing city lights, his thoughts already turning to their next destination. The violence had sated his immediate rage, but the deeper hunger, the need to reclaim what was theirs, remained undiminished.
“The Vitale meeting is tomorrow,” Conall reminded him. “De Luca will be the primary topic. The Corsinis will be there as well.”
Anders nodded absently, his mind elsewhere.
The Trinity alphas made their usual visit to Ty’s apartment in the early morning. The sun had barely risen, ensuring their little mouse would be at work during their intrusion.
The apartment building was unremarkable—a five-story walk-up in a forgotten neighborhood, its brick facade weathered by decades of neglect. Despite the improvements, the building still showed signs of disrepair that made Conall’s lip curl in distaste.
“Mrs. Patel said the new security door will be installed next week,” he said as they entered the familiar hallway. “The woman drives a hard bargain for building improvements.”
Anders nodded, his mind already focused on their omega. These daily visits had become a ritual for all three of them—a way to maintain connection with their little mouse even as they kept their distance. Each alpha experienced the separation differently: Anders with cold, calculated planning; Conall with restless energy; Wyatt with silent, intense longing.
They paused outside apartment 3C, listening for movement, though they knew Ty would be at work. Mrs. Patel had texted their usual confirmation that he’d left for his morning shift.
Wyatt unlocked the door, his stormy eyes immediately scanning the space for any changes since yesterday. He moved silently to the windows, checking the security sensors they’d installed during their first week of surveillance.
“Secure,” he said simply, the single word conveying his complete assessment.
The apartment was small but meticulously clean, thanks to their regular maintenance. The living space remained sparsely furnished despite their additions: a new throw blanket here, a better lamp there, small improvements that wouldn’t raise Ty’s suspicions.
Conall moved immediately to the kitchen, unpacking the fresh groceries he’d brought. “Our little mouse barely touched yesterday’s pasta,” he said with a frown, examining the leftovers in the refrigerator. “Still not eating enough.”
“Stress,” Anders replied, though concern flickered across his features. Unlike his usual controlled demeanor, these visits to Ty’s space revealed a softer side to the Trinity leader, a tenderness reserved only for their omega.
Conall nodded, arranging fresh fruits in a bowl. Wyatt moved to the bedroom, drawn there as he was every visit. The room held the strongest concentration of Ty’s scent—jasmine and lilies with the subtle sweetness that had captivated all three alphas from the beginning. He stood in the doorway, inhaling deeply, his usually impassive face softening almost imperceptibly.
“Misses him,” Anders said quietly to Conall, watching their third.
“We all do,” Conall replied, his usual charm subdued by genuine emotion. “Three weeks of this… it’s torture of a different kind.”
Anders couldn’t disagree. These visits to Ty’s apartment were both balm and torment—surrounding themselves with their omega’s scent while denying themselves his presence. Thedistance was strategic but painful, a necessary sacrifice for their long-term goal.
Anders joined Wyatt in the bedroom, both alphas drawn to the center of Ty’s personal space. The mattress they’d replaced last week was still new enough to hold their combined scents beneath Ty’s, creating a layered effect that satisfied something primal in all of them.
All three alphas moved through their established routine. Wyatt straightened the bedding with military precision before deliberately running his wrists along the pillowcase, marking it with his scent. Anders did the same with the sheets, while Conall focused on the throw blanket at the foot of the bed.
“He slept better last night,” Conall noted, having reviewed the morning’s surveillance report. “No nightmares. First time since we found him.”
A satisfied rumble emerged from Wyatt’s chest—the closest he typically came to verbose expression.
“Our scent helps him,” Anders said, pride evident in his voice. “His body remembers safety with us, even if his mind resists.”
“His mind would resist less if we simply claimed him now,” Conall pointed out, not for the first time. “I miss his fire. His sharp tongue.” His expression grew wistful. “The way he’d fight even when surrounded.”
