Chapter 200: The Fall of Elias Carter

The compound was chaos. Fires raged where grenades had hit, smoke choking the halls. The fight had been brutal, but they had pushed through, cutting down Carter’s men one by one, floor by floor.

Nat’s breath was ragged as she slammed another clip into her gun. Blood streaked her arm—she wasn’t sure if it was hers or someone else’s. Across the room, Roman had just taken down a man twice his size, his knuckles raw, his eyes sharp with an unrelenting fury.

Ginger took cover beside her, wiping sweat and dirt from his brow. "We’re close. Carter’s in the main office. He’s cornered."

Roman turned toward them, his expression unreadable. "Then let’s finish this."

They stormed forward, kicking down the massive steel doors to the office. Inside, Elias Carter stood behind a desk, his hands resting casually on the surface, as if he hadn’t just sent an army to die for him.

He smirked. "So, you finally made it."

Nat’s gun never wavered as she stepped inside. "It’s over, Carter."

Carter chuckled, shaking his head. "You think killing me will change anything? There will always be another man to take my place. Another empire ready to rise."

Roman was on him before he could say another word, slamming him against the desk. "There won’t be another you."

Blood trickled from Carter’s mouth as he let out a wheezing laugh. "She’s just like me, you know. No matter how much she runs, Nat’s got my blood. She’ll never escape it."

Nat’s grip on the gun tightened, but before she could speak, Roman grabbed Carter’s own pistol from his holster and pressed it to his forehead.

"You don’t get to talk about her," Roman growled.

Carter smiled, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Then do it. Finish what you started."

Nat swallowed hard, locking eyes with Roman. She had spent her whole life haunted by this man, by the weight of his crimes, by the blood that tied them together. Killing him wouldn’t erase what he had done. But letting him live? That wasn’t an option either.

She took a step forward, placing a hand over Roman’s and slowly lowering the gun.

"This is mine to do," she said softly, her voice unwavering.

Roman’s jaw clenched. "Nat—"

"No," she interrupted. "It has to be me."

She turned back to Carter, and for the first time, his smirk faltered. There was something different in his gaze now—not fear, not defiance, but something rawer, something more human.

"You really mean to do it, don’t you?" His voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. "My own daughter, pulling the trigger."

Nat’s throat felt tight, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the gun. "I had a father once," she whispered. "But he died a long time ago. You made sure of that."

Carter exhaled slowly, tilting his head as he studied her. "I never wanted you to be weak, Nat. That was the only thing I could give you—strength. The world doesn’t care about little girls with soft hearts. I made sure you’d survive."

She swallowed the bitter lump rising in her throat. "You didn’t make me strong. You made me broken. I spent my whole life trying to outrun the damage you left behind. And now, I finally get to end it."

For a brief moment, something flickered in Carter’s expression—regret? Sadness? It was gone before she could be sure. Then his expression hardened, and his voice turned sharp.

"And for what?" he sneered. "To betray your own blood for them? For him?" He jerked his chin toward Roman. "The man I sold you to? Or maybe for the other one—the man who didn’t even want you at first?" He let out a hollow laugh. "Tell me, Nat, which one convinced you to put a bullet in your own father?"

Nat’s breath hitched, anger burning through her veins. "No one convinced me of anything. I made this choice on my own. Because you stopped being my father a long time ago."

Carter’s smirk curled into something bitter, but there was something else beneath it—a flicker of something she might have once called sorrow. "Then do it," he murmured. "If that’s what you need to be free."

Nat inhaled sharply. She had dreamed of this moment, imagined it a thousand times in a thousand different ways. But now that she was here, standing over the man who had shaped her life in all the worst ways, she realized something.

There would be no victory in this. No peace. Killing Elias Carter wouldn’t undo the years of pain, wouldn’t rewrite her past. But it would end him. And that was enough.

She tightened her grip on the gun, leveling it at his chest.

Carter’s smirk faded, replaced with something almost resembling pride. "Good girl."

The gunshot rang out, sharp and final.

Carter’s body slumped forward, a quiet exhale leaving his lips as the life drained from his eyes. The man who had once controlled empires, who had built a kingdom on blood and fear, was now nothing more than a corpse.

Nat stood there for a long moment, her hands shaking, her breath uneven. It was over. He was gone.

Ginger placed a steadying hand on her back, grounding her in the moment.

Roman turned away from Carter’s lifeless body, his expression unreadable. "It’s done."

But as the sirens of approaching authorities wailed in the distance, Nat knew one truth:

This was only the beginning of whatever came next.