Chapter 276

ALEXANDER

I glanced across the courtyard.

Alina was still crouched behind the planter, one arm wrapped tightly around Mia as they kept themselves low.

Smoke drifted between us.

The sound of gunfire echoed around the building.

Men shouted.

Glass shattered.

The world had turned into chaos.

But then her eyes found mine.

And for one brief second...

Everything else disappeared.

The danger.

The noise.

The panic.

All of it faded.

None of it mattered.

All I saw was her.

My wife.

The woman who somehow managed to make me furious, terrified, and completely helpless all at once.

My chest tightened.

I love you, I mouthed.

Her expression softened instantly.

But before she could do anything stupid — because with Alina, stupidity was usually only seconds away — I pointed at the ground.

"Stay down."

Not a suggestion.

Not a request.

An order.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

I knew that look.

That tiny flicker of rebellion.

The same look she gave me when she decided my rules were merely suggestions.

But then...

She nodded.

No argument.

No sarcastic remark.

No dramatic eye roll.

Nothing.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Because I knew my wife.

And that innocent little nod could mean one of two things.

Either she had finally decided to listen to me...

Or

She had already created an entire plan in her head about how she was going to ignore me the second I looked away.

Knowing Alina, the second option had a terrifyingly high probability.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Don't."

She lifted her eyebrows.

"What?"

Like she had no idea what I meant.

Of course.

Even from across the courtyard, I could read the attitude.

I had spent enough time learning how to read enemies.

Apparently, I had spent even more time learning how to read my stubborn wife.

I mouthed slowly:

"Stay. Down."

She rolled her eyes.

Actually rolled her eyes.

During an attack.

My wife.

The only person on earth who could make me worry and want to strangle her at the same time.

I shook my head.

"Wife!"

Her expression softened again.

The humor disappeared.

She understood.

This wasn't me being controlling.

This wasn't me giving orders because I could.

This was fear.

The kind I hated admitting existed.

The thought of losing her...

I couldn't even finish that thought.

I held her gaze.

"Please," I mouthed.

The word felt strange coming from me.

I didn't ask.

I didn't beg.

Not for anything.

But for her?

I would.

"Just this once... listen to me."

Her face changed.

She saw it.

The fear behind the anger.

The panic behind the command.

Slowly, she nodded.

A real nod this time.

I held her gaze for another second.

The message was clear.

Stay.

Safe.

Alive.

Then she lifted one eyebrow.

Because apparently she couldn't let me have a single peaceful moment.

I frowned.

"What?"

She mouthed:

"You're bossy."

I stared at her.

A fucking attack was happening around us, and she was criticizing my personality.

I shook my head.

"Impossible woman."

Her lips twitched.

Then she mouthed back:

"Your woman."

And somehow, in the middle of hell...

That was enough.

I smiled and turned back toward the threat.

I yanked my phone from my pocket and dialed one of the men stationed on the perimeter.

"What the fuck was that?" I barked the second he picked up.

"Unknown, boss,"  Lukas replied,

"It came out of nowhere," he replied quickly.

"No visual on the shooter yet. We're sweeping the area, checking the rooftops and—"

A sudden crash sounded through

the line.

A curse.

Then—

"Holy fucking shit—"

The call cut.

Static.

Silence.

For half a second, my brain refused to process it.

Then the world exploded.

A large truck rammed into the orphanage gates with a deafening crash of metal on metal. The gates buckled, twisting violently as the vehicle barreled through.

Another truck followed right behind it.

Then another.

Three heavy vehicles smashing through the entrance like battering rams, tires screeching as they tore across the courtyard.

The children screamed.

Every instinct in my body reacted before I even thought.

"FUCK!"

I moved.

Fast.

I grabbed the nearest two children, pulling them behind the stone planter as debris scattered across the courtyard.

"Stay low!"

"Don't move!"

The kids were no longer questioning me.

No jokes.

No teasing.

They clung to me with tiny hands gripping my shirt, their fear finally breaking through.

I crouched around them, shielding as much of their small bodies as I could with mine.

One little girl buried her face against my chest.

Another had both arms wrapped around my waist.

They weren't supposed to be looking at me for safety.

They were supposed to be worrying about scraped knees and missing toys.

Not whether they were going to survive an attack.

Fuck.

Alina.

Through the chaos, through the smoke and shouting, I searched every corner of the courtyard again.

Then I saw her.

Still down.

Still behind cover.

Still alive.

Relief hit me for exactly one second.

One second was all I allowed myself.

Then the anger came.

Cold.

Violent.

The bastard had come for her.

Not me.

Not my empire.

Her.

He had dragged his war to the one place she loved.

The one place where she was supposed to feel safe.

Where children who had already lost enough were supposed to have a home.

My jaw tightened.

Santos wasn't just trying to hurt me.

He was trying to take something from me.

Something I would burn the entire world down to protect.

My wife.

These kids.

And now he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

Because there was no negotiation left.

No warning.

No mercy.

He had crossed a line that even monsters knew better than to cross.

I looked back at the children clinging to me, their terrified faces hidden against my chest.

Then at Alina.

My entire world was right there in front of me.

And Santos had just given me every reason I needed to end this.

Alina lifted her head just enough to meet my eyes, fear written all over her face.

"Alexander..."

"I'm okay," I mouthed.

She nodded...

"The kids...Don't let anything happen to them."

Something tightened in my chest.

Of course that was her concern.

Not herself.

Not the danger.

Them.

I gave her a sharp nod.

"I won't."

More gunfire erupted from the trucks as men started pouring out - armed, masked, moving with purpose.

I had maybe thirty seconds before this turned into a bloodbath.

The kids were still crouched down beside me, tiny bodies trembling, faces buried against my sides and legs.

"It's okay," I said, voice low and steady despite the chaos.

My eyes flicked around the courtyard.

Other kids were hiding - some behind benches, some behind planters - staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

They were too far to reach.

Fuck.

I couldn't get to all of them.

Not without exposing myself.

Not without risking the ones already clinging to me.

One little girl looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

"Are the bad men going to hurt us?"

"No," I said firmly.

"Not today. Not while I'm here."

I scanned the area again, calculating angles, cover, threats.

The attackers were spreading out.

Moving closer.

I needed to buy time.

I needed to end this.

Fast.

I reached into my boot and slowly pulled out the six-inch combat knife I always carried.

Cold steel.

Reliable.

Silent.

A weapon I trusted.

One of the boys eyes looked at the blade.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then his face fell.

Completely.

Like I had just told him the cavalry wasn't coming.

"That's it?"

I glanced at him.

"What?"

He pointed at the knife, his expression filled with genuine disappointment.

"That's the plan?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"It's a knife."

"Exactly."

He looked at the blade.

Then at me.

Then back at the blade.

"We're in trouble."

I almost smiled.

"Good to know you have so much faith in me."

"No, I mean..." He lowered his voice, like he didn't want to hurt my feelings.

"I just don't think you can save everyone with that."

A few of the other kids nodded solemnly.

Apparently, my six-inch blade had already failed its performance review.

"Don't you have a gun?" the boy whispered.

There was actual disappointment in his voice.

Like I had shown up to fight a dragon with a spoon.

I looked at the knife.

Then back at him.

"I do...but knives are good too."

The boy frowned.

"But in movies..."

Of course.

Movies.

I should have known.

"In movies, the hero has a gun," he explained seriously.

"And then he goes—"

He raised his tiny hands.

"Bang bang bang."

He paused dramatically.

"And the bad guys fall down."

Several kids nodded.

A tiny audience agreeing with his very detailed tactical analysis.

I stared at them.

They were terrified.

There were armed men outside.

Their entire world had been turned upside down.

And somehow...

They were disappointed my weapon choice wasn't cinematic enough.

"The knife works," I said.

The boy looked unconvinced.

"But it's not as cool."

I blinked.

Not as cool.

I had spent years training with every weapon imaginable.

I had ended conflicts with less than what I had in my hands.

And apparently my biggest weakness was failing a child's action movie expectations.

I sighed.

"Fine."

I reached for my pistol and pulled it from my side.

The boy's entire face lit up.

"There!"

I held it up.

"Happy?"

He nodded immediately.

"Much better."

"Wonderful."

I looked at the knife still in my hand.

"Apparently the knife needed better marketing."

The boy didn't understand.

Probably for the best.

"Now listen to me."

The excitement disappeared from their faces.

Every pair of frightened eyes locked onto mine.

"Stay here."

I crouched down so I was closer to their level.

"You do not move."

"No matter what you hear."

"No matter what happens."

"You stay together."

I looked at the oldest one.

He was trying so hard not to look scared.

"You’re in charge until I come back."

His eyes widened.

"Me?"

"Yes. You."

He swallowed.

"But what if—"

"You can do it."

The hesitation disappeared slightly.

He nodded.

"I can do it."

"I know you can."

I looked at all of them.

Six small faces.

Six lives that had nothing to do with my world.

Nothing to do with the violence that followed me.

And yet they were looking at me like I was someone who could keep them safe.

The responsibility sat heavier than any weapon ever had.

"Close your eyes," I said quietly.

"And don't open them until I say so."

They nodded, faces pressed against me.

I took a deep breath.

Then I stepped out from behind cover and opened fire.

The first man dropped before he even saw me.

The second followed a second later.

Chaos erupted as the rest turned toward me.

Bullets chewed up the ground around me.

I ducked back behind the wall, heart pounding, but my hands were steady.

This was what I was good at.

This was what I was built for.

Protecting what was mine.

Even if it meant painting the courtyard red.

More men were coming.

But so was I.

And I was done playing nice.