POV: Antonio
---
The safe house was a brick building in Queens, nondescript, the kind of place you walked past without noticing. Perfect for a man who didn't want to be found.
But I'd found him.
Marco was beside me, his rifle ready. Dominic covered the back. My men were positioned around the perimeter, waiting for my signal.
"You sure he's in there?" Marco murmured.
"I'm sure."
"And Carlo?"
"Alive. Stable. Sofia's with him."
Marco nodded. "Then let's finish this."
I raised my hand. Counted down.
Three. Two. One.
We moved.
---
The door shattered under the battering ram. My men flooded in, weapons raised, voices sharp. "Clear!" "Clear!" "Clear!"
Garrick was in the back room, a gun in his hand, a woman cowering in the corner. His eyes when he saw me were wild—nothing like Viktor's cold calculation. This was a cornered animal, desperate and dangerous.
"Matteo," he spat. "Should have known you'd come yourself."
"Carlo Bianchi," I said. "You almost killed him."
"He deserved it. Traitor. Snitch. He got Viktor killed."
"Viktor got Viktor killed." I stepped closer. "But you—you chose to come back. You chose to hurt my family. And now you're going to pay for that choice."
He laughed. "You think you scare me? I've been running from men like you my whole life."
"Then you know how this ends."
He raised his gun. I was faster.
The shot echoed in the small room. Garrick staggered, dropped his weapon, clutched his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers.
"You won't kill me," he gasped. "You need me alive. For information. For leverage."
"No," I said. "I don't."
I raised my gun again.
"Antonio." Marco's voice, behind me. "Think about Sofia. About Carlo. About what happens next."
I didn't lower the gun.
"He's right," I said. "I don't need you alive. I don't need anything from you. What I need is to make sure you never hurt anyone I love again."
Garrick's eyes widened. "Please—"
"Viktor begged too. Did you listen?"
He didn't answer.
"Neither did I."
I pulled the trigger.
---
SOFIA
The call came at 3 AM.
I was dozing in the chair beside Carlo's bed when my phone buzzed. Antonio's name on the screen.
I answered before the second ring. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay." His voice was tired, but steady. "It's over, Sofia. Garrick's dead. It's over."
I closed my eyes, let the relief wash over me.
"Come home," I whispered.
"I'm on my way. How's Carlo?"
"Awake. Stable. He's going to be okay."
"Good." A pause. "I love you, Sofia."
"I love you too. Now come home."
"I'm coming."
He hung up. I sat there, phone in my hand, and finally let myself cry.
---
ANTONIO
I got to the hospital at dawn.
Sofia was in the hallway, leaning against the wall, her eyes red but her face calm. When she saw me, she crossed the distance between us in three strides and wrapped her arms around me.
"You're okay," she whispered. "You're okay."
"I'm okay." I held her tight. "I promised."
She pulled back, searched my face. "Did you—"
"Yes."
She nodded slowly. "Was it necessary?"
"To keep you safe? Yes."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she took my hand.
"Carlo wants to see you."
"Me?"
"You. He wants to thank you."
I let her lead me to Carlo's room.
---
Carlo looked better than he had the day before—still bruised, still broken, but alive. Awake. He smiled when we walked in.
"Antonio." His voice was rough, but steady. "Sofia told me. About Garrick."
"It's done."
"I know." He met my eyes. "I wanted to thank you. For saving my life. For trusting me. For..." He swallowed. "For giving me a chance I didn't deserve."
"You're Sofia's brother. That's enough."
"It shouldn't be. I haven't earned it."
"Then earn it." I stepped closer. "Get better. Stay clean. Keep showing up. That's how you earn it."
He nodded slowly. "I can do that."
"Good."
I took Sofia's hand, pulled her close.
"Now get some rest. Both of you." Carlo smiled weakly. "I'm not going anywhere."
---
SOFIA
We left Carlo sleeping and walked out into the dawn.
The city was waking up. Lights flickering on. People starting their days. Normal life, happening all around us, completely unaware of the war that had ended in the night.
Antonio pulled me close.
"It's over," he said. "For real this time."
I leaned into him. "And now?"
"Now we live. The way we talked about. The house, the kids, all of it."
I looked up at him. "You still want that?"
"More than anything."
I kissed him then, standing in the hospital parking lot, and let myself imagine it. The house. The children. The ordinary, beautiful life we were going to build.
"Let's go home," I whispered.
"Home."
We walked to the car, hand in hand, and I didn't look back.