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Across the ballroom, Nat, Edo, and Bobby are holding their own against The Brotherhood’s forces. Nat moves with a fluid grace, her handguns blazing as she takes down one enemy after another, her bleeding face a mask of cold determination. Edo, a hulking figure, fights with a raw, brutal efficiency, his assault rifle cutting a swath through The Brotherhood’s ranks.
And Bobby—the cool, calculating Invicta Don—Alexis’s father—is a veritable one-man army. His fingers dance along the controls of his modified M4 carbine, the weapon spitting a hail of high-velocity rounds that tear through the opposition with devastating precision. Wherever The Brotherhood tries to regroup, Bobby’s relentless fire cuts them down, his tactical mind anticipating their every move.
The fight is a bloody, chaotic mess, dead soldiers and panicked buyers scattered everywhere. My head is pounding, blood trickling down my face, but I can’t afford to slow down. I have to find Alexis. My sole objective is getting to her, my heart racing with a desperate urgency.
“Alexis!” I scream, my voice hoarse and strained. “ALEXIS!”
The battle rages on, the sounds of gunfire and agonized screams deafening. I push forward, my eyes scanning the chaos, searching for any sign of the woman I love.
But she’s nowhere to be seen. The stage is empty.
A Brotherhood goon suddenly materializes in front of me, his face twisted in a malicious grin as he levels his weapon at me. But I’m quicker, my reflexes honed by years of ruthless combat.
With lightning speed. I dodge the first volley of bullets, my own gun roaring to life. The Brotherhood soldier staggers back, his eyes widening as the rounds tear through his chest, crimson blossoming across his suit.
I advance relentlessly, emptying my clip into the man, my face a mask of grim determination. There is no time for mercy or hesitation. I have to find Alexis, and I’ll cut through an army of these fuckers if that’s what it takes.
The lifeless body crumbles to the ground, and I whirl, my desperate gaze sweeping the chaotic ballroom. Where is she? Had Scarlett or another Brotherhood capo dragged her away?
Suddenly, a piercing screech cuts through the din of battle, freezing everyone in their tracks. All eyes turn toward the source of the sound, and my heart lurches.
There stands Scarlett, her face a twisted caricature of sanity, her fingers clutching Alexis’s hair in an iron grip. A gun is pressed to Alexis’s temple, and I can see the pure terror in her eyes.
“Any of you take one step, and Princess Alexis dies!” Scarlett howls, her voice shrill and unhinged as her red hair streams behind her. She pants, her eyes glittering with rage and malice. “I’m taking Alexis and the little brat and getting the hell out of here.”
Her gaze sweeps the room, a manic gleam in her eyes. “Or maybe I’ll use them as human bombs. I’ve been meaning to dabble in a little domestic terrorism.”
Alexis whimpers, her body trembling, and my blood boils with impotent rage. I have to do something, but one wrong move and Scarlett will pull the trigger.
Time seems to slow to a crawl as Scarlett begins to retreat, using Alexis as a human shield. I watch in agonized helplessness, my heart pounding, as the woman I love is dragged away, her frightened eyes pleading with me to save her.
But just as Scarlett is about to pull her out of the ballroom, Alexis suddenly surges forward. In a desperate, instinctive move, she slams the back of her head into Scarlett’s face, causing the deranged woman to cry out in pain and momentarily loosen her hold.
The world hangs suspended in that pivotal moment, every eye riveted on the scene unfolding before us.
Alexis, her eyes wild with terror, determination, and rage, seizes the opportunity. Her fingers close around the gun in Scarlett’s hand, and with a fluid motion, she wrenches it free.
Scarlett’s face contorts in a mask of fury as she realizes what is happening, but she’s too late.
Alexis, her hands shaking, raises the weapon and pulls the trigger.
The thunderous report echoes through the stunned silence, and Scarlett’s lifeless body crumples to the ground, crimson blood blossoming on her forehead.
Alexis stands there, the gun still clutched in her trembling hands, staring down at the woman who had terrorized her with a look of disbelief and horror. A deafening silence falls over the ballroom. All eyes are on Alexis, the gun still smoking in her grasp.
In the stunned silence that follows, I see the realization dawn on the remaining Brotherhood members and their “guests”—powerful leaders in their own right, indulging in the abhorrent practice of human trafficking.
Without hesitation, the Iacopelli and Invicta soldiers open fire, their weapons blazing with ruthless efficiency. I watch impassively as the so-called “respectable” businessmen and politicians are cut down, their cries of terror and pain echoing through the ballroom.
These are not innocent victims. These are the men and women who profit off the suffering of the weak and vulnerable. Let the world see the true faces of these self-proclaimed pillars of society, I think grimly. Let them know the sick games these leaders enjoy.
Our crews move with practiced precision, systematically eliminating The Brotherhood’s forces and any of their “guests” who try to flee. My own weapon barks repeatedly, my aim unwavering as I methodically dispatch one target after another.
The chaos is deafening—the thunderous roar of gunfire, the agonized screams of the dying, the frantic shrieks of those trapped in the crossfire. As the last of The Brotherhood’s forces fall, my eyes finally find Alexis, still clutching the smoking gun in her trembling hands.
She looks shell-shocked, her eyes wide and haunted, and a surge of fierce protectiveness washes over me.
I stride toward her, my expression grim but my movements gentle as I pry the weapon from her grip.
