Chapter 202 Finished

Chapter 202 Finished


Draco’s POV 

Gunfire changed.
Not the scattered resistance we’d been cutting through. This was tighter. Louder. Echoing in a way that told me exactly where we were headed.
The tunnel.
And Giovanni was already on the other side. “He’s pinned,” Giovanni’s voice came through the comm, steady but edged with the kind of focus that meant things were right on the line.
“Hold him,” I said.
No hesitation. No extra words.
“We got him,” Giovanni replied.
I believed him. But belief didn’t stop bullets.
“Move,” I ordered, pushing forward harder.
Renzo didn’t need telling twice. His men tightened around the formation, clearing the last stretch of rooms with speed that cut through anything left standing between us and that exit.
This wasn’t controlled anymore. This was force.
A man stepped into the hallway ahead, weapon raised, trying to hold the line one last time. He didn’t even get a shot off before he dropped.
“Keep pushing,” Renzo said.
We didn’t slow.
The entrance to the tunnel came into view, dark and narrow, the air shifting as the sound of the fight grew louder, sharper, closer.
“Stack up,” Renzo muttered.
We hit it together. Then we were in. The tunnel was tight.
Concrete walls closed in on both sides, the sound of gunfire bouncing back at us, making it louder than it should’ve been. The air was thicker here, dust kicked up from movement ahead, footsteps echoing just beyond sight.
“They’re still moving,” one of Renzo’s men said.
“Not far,” I replied.
We advanced fast, clearing as we went.
One of his men came out of a side cut in the tunnel, trying to catch us off guard. He didn’t get the chance. Renzo handled him before he could even adjust, stepping past the body like it wasn’t even there.
“They’re desperate now,” Renzo said.
“They’re out of room,” I answered.
That’s what this was.
A funnel. No angles left. No space to maneuver. Just forward.
The gunfire ahead intensified, sharper bursts, tighter exchanges. Giovanni’s men were holding. You could hear it in the rhythm. It was controlled, disciplined, not giving ground.
“They’re right there,” someone said.
I didn’t answer. I could feel it.
The tunnel began to open slightly ahead, the darkness breaking just enough to show movement, flashes of light cutting through as shots were exchanged.
We closed the last stretch. Then broke through. The exit opened into chaos.
Giovanni’s men had them exactly where they needed to be. They were boxed in, cut off, no clear path out. Bodies already on the ground, smoke hanging low in the air, the sharp scent of gunpowder thick enough to taste.
And right in the middle of it was him. 
The Reaper.
Surrounded by what was left of his men, still fighting, still trying to carve out something that wasn’t there.
Giovanni stood off to the side, holding the line, his men locking everything down so tight there wasn’t a single opening left.
“Took you long enough,” he said without looking at me.
“Had to make sure you didn’t mess it up,” I shot back.
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. Then he stepped aside just enough. That was all I needed.
The Reaper saw me. I watched it happen.
That split second where recognition hit, where he realized exactly how this ended.
His men shifted, tightening around him, trying to block, trying to hold, trying to buy him one last second.
Not enough. Not even close.
I moved through them.
One stepped in my path and I put him down without breaking stride. Another tried to grab hold, to slow me, to stop me. He failed. Nothing was stopping me from getting to him.
Not now. Not after what he said. Not after he spoke her name like that.
I closed the distance.
He raised his weapon.
Too late.
I knocked it aside, the force of it sending it off angle before he could fire. He tried to recover, tried to step back, but there was nowhere left to go.
Nowhere left to run.
“You should’ve kept her name out of your mouth,” I said, my voice low, controlled, final.
His eyes locked on mine, something flashing there. It was anger, realization, maybe both.
Didn’t matter.
Nothing he said now would change how this ended. Nothing he did would stop it.
I didn’t give him another second. Didn’t give him another word.
I ended it.
The fight around us didn’t stop immediately, but it shifted. His men broke, whatever structure they had left collapsing the second he dropped.
“Clear it,” I said. My voice carried now, steady again, back under control.
Renzo’s men moved immediately, finishing what was left. Giovanni’s team tightened the perimeter, making sure nothing slipped through. Nico’s voice crackled faintly over the comm, something about charges and timing, but it didn’t matter anymore.
It was done.
I stood there for a second, looking down at him, making sure there was nothing left of the threat he thought he was.
Then I lifted my gaze. “Status,” I said.
One by one, confirmations came in.