Page 91 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
Just as I reached the stairwell that would take me up to the kitchen level, a door burst open behind me. I flattened myself against the wall, praying the shadows would hide me.
“Check every room!” a voice barked—one of De Luca’s lieutenants, a beta with a face like a bulldog and the personality to match. “The omega is missing!”
My heart stopped, then restarted with a vengeance. They knew I was gone already? What, did they have omega-detection radar? Heat-seeking missiles specifically calibrated to my body temperature?
“De Luca wants him found before the alphas get to him,” the lieutenant continued, directing a team of guards to spread out. “Move!”
I didn’t wait to hear more. The moment they disappeared down an adjacent corridor, I slipped into the stairwell and descended as quickly and quietly as possible. The kitchen level was two floors up, and each step felt like it took an eternity.
I was halfway when the door above me crashed open again. “Check the stairwells!” a voice shouted. “All of them!”
Footsteps pounded on the stairs, heavy and fast. I abandoned stealth for speed, racing up the remaining steps and bursting through the door. The kitchen corridor stretched before me, mercifully empty for the moment. The service entrance on thefirst floor was at the far end, maybe fifty yards away, practically a marathon in omega-on-the-run terms.
I ran, no longer bothering with caution. Behind me, the stairwell door slammed open again, followed by shouts of discovery.
“There he is! Stop him!”
A gunshot rang out, the bullet embedding itself in the wall inches from my head. The sound was deafening in the confined space, the smell of gunpowder sharp in my nostrils. Plaster dust rained down on my shoulder. I ducked instinctively, zigzagging as I continued my sprint toward freedom. Another shot, closer this time, the bullet whizzing past my ear.
“Don’t shoot to kill!” someone shouted. “De Luca wants him alive!”
Small comfort when a bullet to the leg would end my escape just as effectively as one to the head. Mobility was kind of a key component in the whole “running for your life” scenario.
The service entrance loomed ahead, its metal door slightly ajar, someone had already fled this way. I pushed through it into the cool night air, the taste of freedom so close I could almost touch it. It tasted like not being shot, which was quickly becoming my favorite flavor.
But the guards were right behind me, their heavy footsteps and shouted commands creating a soundtrack of impending doom. Another gunshot, this one kicking up dirt at my feet. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest, adrenaline making everything sharper, clearer, more immediate. Colors were brighter, sounds louder, my body moving with a desperate coordination I didn’t know I possessed.
I ran faster than I’d ever run in my life, my lungs burning intensely, my legs pumping rapidly. The compound was situated on the edge of the city, bordered by woods on one side and industrial wasteland on the other. The woods offered bettercover but would be harder to navigate in the darkness. The industrial area was more exposed but would lead more directly to the city proper.
“Think, Ty,” I gasped between breaths. “What would a smart omega do?”
A smart omega would choose the unexpected path. They’d expect me to take the woods, to hide like prey. So I turned toward the industrial area, sprinting across open ground toward the hulking shapes of abandoned factories and warehouses.
“He’s heading for the industrial zone!” a voice shouted behind me. “Cut him off at the perimeter!”
More gunshots, more shouts. I risked a glance back and immediately wished I hadn’t. At least six guards were in pursuit, their weapons drawn, their faces set with determination. And beyond them, emerging from a different exit of the compound, three larger figures, their attention focused unerringly in my direction.
The alphas.
They’d broken free, just as they’d promised. And now they were coming for me, just as they’d promised. The reliability would have been admirable if it wasn’t so terrifying.
My omega hindbrain reacted instantly to the sight of them—a rush of heat, a flutter in my chest, a desperate urge to stop running, to submit, to let them catch me and claim me properly. The intensity of it was staggering, my legs actually faltering for a moment as my body tried to obey instincts older than civilization.
No!I screamed at myself.Keep running! They’re not your alphas, they’re not your saviors, they’re just three more predators who want to own you!
Fear gave me a fresh burst of speed. I reached the first row of abandoned buildings and ducked between them, using the maze of structures to break line of sight with my pursuers. Theindustrial area was a labyrinth of warehouses, factories, and loading docks, their skeletal structures looming against the night sky.
I zigzagged between buildings, changing direction frequently, trying to lose both the guards and the alphas in the maze. My lungs burned, my legs trembled with exhaustion, but I kept moving. Had to keep moving. Motion was life. Stopping was capture. Capture was… something I refused to think about.
Behind me, I could hear the guards spreading out, shouting to each other as they tried to coordinate their search. But it was the silence that terrified me more, the lack of sound from the three predators I knew were hunting me with single-minded focus. Alphas didn’t need to shout. Alphas didn’t need to coordinate. They just needed to track, to hunt, to claim.
I ducked into a warehouse, its cavernous interior dark and silent save for the frantic sound of my breathing. The smell of rust and decay filled my nostrils, a welcome change from the scent of gunpowder and fear that had surrounded me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made out the shapes of old machinery, broken pallets, the detritus of a business long gone.
I crept through the space, trying to control my breathing, to move silently despite my racing heart. The warehouse had multiple exits, good for escape, bad for security. I needed to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between myself and my pursuers.
A noise at the entrance I’d used made me freeze. Footsteps, careful and measured. Not the heavy tread of De Luca’s guards, but something more controlled, more deliberate.
Alpha.
