Page 119 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“No visual yet,” Conall replied, his usual charm replaced by deadly efficiency as he moved through a different section of the compound. “Still searching for him.”
Anders felt the minutes slipping away, each one increasing the danger to Ty. Had De Luca’s men found him already? Was he hurt? Captured? The possibilities fueled a rage unlike anything he’d experienced before.
The security room fell quickly, Anders personally eliminating the three guards inside with efficient headshots. The monitors displayed various sections of the compound—and then, on one screen, a familiar figure moved through a service corridor.
Ty. Their little mouse. Looking thin but determined, navigating the compound with surprising skill.
Anders went completely still, relief so profound it was almost painful washing through him. He was alive. Unharmed. Something in Anders’ chest constricted at the sight of Ty after three months of absence—the dark circles under his eyes, the weight loss that was obvious even through the grainy footage, the way he moved with a caution that spoke of both fear and determination.
As Anders watched, Ty paused at a junction, pressing himself against the wall as a group of guards ran past. The omega’s movements were calculated, his awareness of his surroundings impressive. But what caught Anders’ attention—what sent a surge of protective possessiveness through him so intense he nearly crushed the console beneath his hands—was the subtle, unconscious gesture Ty made when the danger passed: a protective hand placed briefly over his still-flat abdomen.
Protecting their child. Their heir. The living embodiment of the connection that had formed between them despite the circumstances of their meeting.
“Found him,” Anders reported, relief making his voice rougher than usual. “Sector 4, moving toward the cell blocks.”
“His father’s not there,” Conall replied. “We’ve already moved him to safety.”
Anders watched as Ty continued through the compound, unaware that his mission was futile, that his father was already safe. “Continue to primary objective. I’ll handle our little mouse personally.”
On another monitor, Anders caught sight of Wyatt’s team breaching De Luca’s private quarters. The aging don was visible for a moment—frail, sickly, but still defiant as he reached for a weapon. Wyatt’s movement was a blur of controlled violence, his first shot taking De Luca’s hand, the second appearing to punch through his chest. Blood sprayed across the camera lens, obscuring the scene.
Anders activated his radio. “Status on De Luca?”
“Secured,” Viktor confirmed. “Unconscious but alive per your orders. Being transported now.”
“Broadcast the death announcement,” Anders ordered. “I want every guard in this compound to believe their boss is dead.”
Anders turned his attention back to the monitor where he’d seen Ty, only to find it empty. Their little mouse had moved beyond the camera’s range. With a curse that would have made lesser men flinch, Anders left the security room, following the most likely route Ty would take based on his last known position.
He caught Ty’s scent at a junction—fresh, tinged with fear and determination, and underneath it all, the unmistakable marker of pregnancy that called to Anders’ most primalinstincts. He followed it with single-minded intensity, his pace increasing as the scent grew stronger.
The trail led to a small storage room off the main corridor. Anders paused at the threshold, inhaling deeply to confirm what his instincts already told him. Ty was inside, his scent spiking with fear and adrenaline.
Anders stepped into the doorway, filling it with his imposing presence, and found himself staring directly into the wide hazel eyes of their omega.
Ty stood pressed against the far wall, facing the door as if he’d been waiting, listening to the approaching footsteps. His expression shifted from alertness to shock to terror in the span of seconds as he recognized Anders.
Anders drank in the sight of him, a hunger that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with three months of emptiness finally being filled. Ty looked thinner than he should be, dark circles under his eyes like bruised shadows against his pale skin. Anders cataloged every change, every detail—the slight hollowness in Ty’s cheeks, the wariness in his stance, the defiant tilt of his chin despite the fear radiating from him.
But it was Ty’s scent that hit Anders like a physical blow—jasmine and lilies, intensified by fear and adrenaline, but underscored by that sweet, rich marker of pregnancy. The confirmation of what Anders had suspected sent a wave of possessive satisfaction through him so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees. Their seed had taken root. Their bond made flesh. Proof that Ty had always been meant for them.
Relief so profound it bordered on pain washed through Anders’ chest, loosening something that had been clenched tight since the day they’d discovered Ty missing. He’d found him. Their little mouse was alive, unharmed, and—for the moment—safe. For the first time in three months, Anders felt like he could breathe fully.
“There you are, little thief,” Anders said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the small space, unable to keep the raw possession from his tone.
Ty’s chin lifted in defiance despite the tremor Anders could see in his hands. “Thief?” he challenged, his voice steadier than his scent suggested. “That’s rich coming from someone who just stole an entire building through murder. What’s next, are you going to accuse me of breathing your air?”
The sass, the defiance, the sharp tongue—Anders had missed it all with an intensity that surprised him. That fire was what had drawn him to Ty in the first place, what had made him different from every other omega they’d encountered. Anders smiled, moving closer, drinking in Ty’s reactions, the way he pressed harder against the wall, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
“You stole something far more valuable,” Anders murmured, close enough now to feel the heat radiating from Ty’s body, to smell the intoxicating blend of omega pheromones and pregnancy hormones that called to something ancient and primal in his alpha hindbrain.
He reached out, one finger tracing the line of Ty’s jaw with deliberate gentleness that belied the storm raging inside him. The contact sent electricity racing through Anders’ body—the first time he’d touched Ty as a free man, not a captive. The softness of Ty’s skin beneath his fingertip felt like coming home after a long, cold journey. Anders wanted to memorize the sensation, to relearn every inch of the omega who had haunted his dreams for months.
“And I’ve come to collect,” he finished, his voice rougher than intended as emotion threatened to overwhelm his control.
Before Ty could respond, Anders captured his mouth in a claiming kiss.
Ty’s lips were softer than Anders remembered, warm and yielding despite his mental resistance. The taste of him—sweet with an underlying spice unique to Ty—ignited Anders’ senses like nothing else could. Three months of imagining this moment hadn’t prepared him for the reality of finally having Ty in his arms again, the little omega who had somehow become essential to his existence.
