Chapter 64 Face Your Fucking Demons

Chapter 64 Face Your Fucking Demons
Alexander’s POV

7:00 PM – The Meeting Point

A cold, empty warehouse on the edge of the city. My kind of venue.

No cameras. No exits. No witnesses.

I don’t bother dressing up. Black shirt. Rolled sleeves. Leather gloves. Gun holstered at my waist. I’m not here to talk peace. I’m here to see who has the balls to stand in front of me after putting their filthy fucking hands on my woman.

Jace stands beside me, silent but watchful. Two of my best men flank the entrance, armed and ready. The whole place smells of rust and sawdust—memories of every other “meeting” that ended with someone’s body in a bag.

At exactly 7:03, the bastards arrive.

Nico Alvarez walks in first—cocky little shit, thinks the world owes him blood. His brother Renzo trails behind him, taller, heavier, not as loud but just as lethal. I clock the bulge at his side. Gun. Same model I trained with twenty years ago. Cute.

They try to posture, to size me up like I’m still the man I used to be.

Fools.

“You’re looking well, Alexander,” Nico says, slick and smug. “Didn’t think you’d want to meet so soon after what happened to your little fiancée.”

The sound that leaves my throat is low and dangerous—half laugh, half growl.

“You tried to assassinate a pregnant woman, and you want to make small talk?”

Renzo raises a hand like I’m a kid throwing a tantrum. “We didn’t try to kill her. Believe me, if we wanted her dead, she'd be by now. That was just a warning.”

I move so fast neither of them sees it coming—I slam Nico’s face into the concrete pillar behind him. His skull cracks against the surface, blood spilling immediately. His scream echoes across the steel beams above us.

Renzo grabs for his gun but Jace already has his out, pressed to Renzo’s head.

I lean in, my lips at Nico’s ear. “That was your warning.”

“Fucking psycho,” he gurgles through cracked teeth. “We should’ve put a bullet in her brain—”

I backhand him so hard blood and teeth fly across the floor.

That’s not enough. I draw my Glock and without hesitation, put a round straight through his kneecap. His scream rips the air, raw and animal, as his leg twists unnaturally beneath him.

“You mention her again, and I’ll take more than your tongue. I’ll cut off every limb you own and send them home in separate boxes.”

Renzo snarls, fury flashing in his eyes. “You think this ends with us?”

I cock my head at him, almost amused. Then I lower the barrel and squeeze the trigger. The shot explodes into his thigh just above the knee. He collapses, clutching his leg, roaring in pain. The stench of blood thickens in the air.

“No,” I smile coldly. “This ends when your entire bloodline is ashes.”

Nico tries to crawl, whimpering, leaving a red trail. I grind my boot down on his ruined leg until his screams break into a hoarse sob.

“This isn’t revenge. This is legacy warfare.”

I pull a folder from my coat and toss it on the table between us. Inside are financial records, offshore accounts, detailed photos of every mistress, bastard child, and blackmail they’ve tried to cover up. Their eyes dart, wide with panic, even as their bodies tremble in agony.

“You’re done,” I tell them. “Your businesses are being swallowed as we speak. Every asset frozen. Every ally gone. You won’t even have a bank card by midnight.”

Their faces are white, sweating through the pain.

“And tomorrow morning?” I continue, voice low, deliberate. “There’s going to be a news leak. A video. Renzo fucking a seventeen-year-old. Nico laundering money through a charity. You think this is about Ivy? No. This is about me destroying you until your names are curses.”

“You fucking—” Renzo starts, but Jace shoves the barrel harder into his skull.

“Careful,” Jace mutters.

I take a slow step back, flexing my fingers. I’m calm now. Ice-cold.

“Leave this city tonight. Limp, crawl, drag your bleeding carcasses out of here, I don’t care. But if I ever see you again—if I so much as catch your name whispered near my woman—I’ll kill you and bury you, then dig you up, and kill you again.”

I holster my gun. Turn my back. Walk away.

I don’t need to stay and watch their fall. It’s already in motion. By the time they reach their car, their phones will be dead, their passports invalid, and every safehouse burned to the ground.

I gave them a chance.

And I’ll bury them if they waste it.

To Be Continued…