Page 38 of The Omega Accountant

Guilt.

In that fractional instant, understanding crystallized with devastating clarity.Notjust suspicion or theory, but bone-deep certainty that resonated with the hollow ache whereLuca'spresence should have pulsed.

"You knew,"Isaid quietly, the words falling into the space between us like the first drops of blood from a mortal wound. "Aboutthe suppressants.Aboutthe attempt tonight."

Carlo's hand moved toward his weapon, the motion aborted as he registered theBerettaalready aimed at his chest—drawn and positioned before conscious thought had fully formed the intention.

"Matteo," he began, using my given name for only the second time in our long association. "Youdon't understand the position?—"

The gunshot interrupted whatever justification he'd prepared, the sound strangely muted in the confines of the office.Carlo'sexpression registered surprise rather than pain as he looked down at the expanding red stain on his shirt—not a killing shot but a deliberate wounding, placed with surgical precision to ensure survival but prevent resistance.

"Who has him?"Iasked, voice devoid of the emotion roiling beneath controlled exterior.

Carlo sank to his knees, one hand pressed against the wound as blood seeped between his fingers. "Souza," he gasped, the name confirming what instinct had already suggested. "Emiliowants... leverage."

"Where?"

"The waterfront property.Theold processing facility."Bloodbubbled at the corner of his mouth, his beta resilience already fading as shock settled in. "Matteo, your father arranged?—"

"I know what my father arranged,"Icut him off, no interest in excuses or explanations that wouldn't change the fundamental betrayal. "Howmany guards?"

"Twelve.Maybefifteen."Hisbreathing had grown labored, eyes glazing slightly as blood loss took its toll. "Eliteteam.They'reexpecting you."

Of course they were.TheSouzaswould have calculated my response with mathematical precision—the alpha whose claimed omega had been taken would come for what was his, regardless of odds or rational assessment.Theywere counting on biology to override strategy, on instinct to blind tactical judgment.

They had miscalculated.

I moved to the intercom, pressing the direct line to what remained of my security team. "Medicalto the main office.Gunshotwound, non-lethal."Then, to the bleeding man who had been my right hand since taking the underboss position: "Ifhe survives, keep him sedated and secure.He'llanswer for this whenIreturn."

No emotion colored the order—not rage or grief or betrayal.Justcold certainty born of necessity and the singular focus that had descended the momentI'dregisteredLuca'sabsence.Theclaiming bond between us had sharpened priorities to crystalline clarity, stripping away every consideration beyond a single imperative:

Recover what was mine.

I moved efficiently through the office, gathering weapons from the hidden arsenal built into what had appeared to be ordinary cabinetry.Gunsslipped into purpose-built holsters.Knivessheathed against forearms, at ankles, across the small of my back.Theritual of preparation centered me, each weapon an extension of intent made manifest.Notjust tools but promises written in steel and polymer.

The main security monitors tracked movement in the hallway—medical personnel responding to my summons with the urgencyCarlo'sstatus demanded despite his betrayal.Theywould keep him alive, keep him secure untilIreturned to extract the full measure of information his treachery contained.Justicewould come later.Vengeancetoo.Fornow, only recovery mattered.

The private elevator opened directly into the underground garage where the most tactically appropriate vehicles waited in climate-controlled silence.Notthe armored sedan that announcedCorvinobusiness, but the matte-blackSUVdesigned for operations requiring more discretion, more... flexibility in rules of engagement.

AsIloaded additional weapons into the vehicle, memory surfaced unbidden—Luca'shands moving with unexpected competence as he stitched the knife wound at my side."Youkilled him."Nota question or judgment, but simple acknowledgment of reality.Understandingbeyond whatI'dexpected from the quiet accountant who had walked into my life with missing millions and unwavering integrity.

The memory sharpened focus rather than distracting from it.Theomega theSouzashad taken wasn't just a claiming or a political statement against my father.Hewas the partner who had seen beyond alpha biology to the man beneath, who had chosen connection within constraint, who had matched my protection with his own form of strength.

Mine to protect.Mineto recover.Mineto avenge.

The streets of the city blurred past asInavigated toward the waterfront, tactical considerations expanding to fill conscious thought where emotion might otherwise have compromised judgment.Twelveto fifteen elite guards, according toCarlo.Likelypositioned in rotating patterns around the perimeter and concentrated near the most probable entry points.TheSouzaprocessing facility had been ostensibly abandoned years ago, but maintained as an off-books location for operations requiring distance from legitimate business interests.

I knew the building intimately—had once orchestrated a raid on it during an earlier territorial dispute with theSouzas, before the current political maneuvering had begun.Knowledgethat would have been strategic advantage if not for the certainty that they knew exactly who would be coming forLuca.

They were expecting the enraged alpha, driven by biological imperative to recover his claimed omega without regard for personal safety or tactical consideration.Theberserker state that turned even calculating men into predictable weapons, easily manipulated through the very claiming bond meant to protect rather than expose.

They would be prepared for fury.Forfrontal assault.Forthe biological drive that prioritized immediate recovery over strategic patience.

They were not prepared for me.

13

LUCA

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