Chapter 91: The War Begins

The battlefield was set.

Matteo's compound stood in the distance, surrounded by his men, all armed to the teeth. Dominic watched from his vantage point, his grip tight on his gun. The past few months had been leading up to this moment—a final war between two mafia kings.

He and Vincent had gathered their best men. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. Matteo had overstepped too many times. Tonight, Dominic would end it.

"Positions set?" Dominic asked.

Vincent nodded. "Everyone's in place. We go in on your mark."

Dominic exhaled sharply, glancing around. Elijah and Adrian were at the safe house, far from this fight. Good. This wasn't a battle they needed to see.

A sharp whistle pierced the air—the signal.

The first explosion rocked the compound's front gate, sending Matteo's men scrambling. Dominic moved in with his team, gunfire erupting around them. Bullets zipped past, shattering walls, ripping through bodies. The air was thick with smoke and the metallic scent of blood.

Dominic moved like a shadow, taking down enemy after enemy with cold precision. Matteo's men were strong, but Dominic had spent years preparing for wars like this. He didn't hesitate. Every bullet he fired was meant to kill.

Vincent was right beside him, covering his flank. "They're retreating toward the main hall!" he shouted over the chaos.

"Push forward!" Dominic ordered.

They advanced through the courtyard, cutting down anyone in their way. The deeper they went, the more resistance they faced, but Dominic didn't slow. His heart pounded, adrenaline fueling his every move.

Finally, they reached the grand hall. Matteo stood there, waiting.

He looked unfazed, dressed in his usual tailored suit, gun in hand. "Took you long enough."

Dominic raised his weapon. "You always did like playing king, Matteo. But your reign ends tonight."

Matteo smirked, raising his gun. "Let's see about that."

They fired at the same time.

Dominic dodged, feeling the heat of Matteo's bullet graze his arm. He rolled behind a column, returning fire. Matteo moved fast, using the shadows to his advantage. Their men continued to fight around them, but in that moment, it was just the two of them.

Dominic charged forward, knocking Matteo's gun aside. They clashed, fists meeting bone, years of anger pouring into every strike. Matteo was strong, but Dominic was stronger. He slammed Matteo against the wall, pinning him down.

"Any last words?" Dominic growled, gun pressed to Matteo's skull.

Matteo coughed, blood dripping from his lips. "Yeah… you should've killed me years ago."

For a long moment, Dominic considered it.

It would be so easy. One pull of the trigger and Matteo would be gone. No more threats, no more games.

But something in him hesitated. Matteo had been more than an enemy once. He had been a brother.

With a sharp exhale, Dominic lowered his gun. "I'm not wasting a bullet on you."

Matteo chuckled weakly. "Mercy doesn't suit you, Moretti."

"This isn't mercy," Dominic said coldly. "Stay away from my family. If you ever come near us again, I'll finish what I started."

Matteo's smirk faltered. He knew Dominic meant it.

Dominic turned, leaving him there.

The war was over. Matteo's men were either dead or had surrendered. Vincent met him outside, blood splattered across his shirt. "We got them all. It's done."

Dominic glanced back at the ruined compound. "Let's go home."

He had won. But somehow, it didn't feel like victory.

-----

The drive back was silent. The weight of everything that had just happened still hung in the air. Dominic sat in the backseat, his hand resting on the fresh wound on his arm. It wasn't serious—just a graze—but it was a reminder of how close things had come.

Vincent drove, his grip tight on the wheel. "You really let him live?"

Dominic exhaled. "Killing him wouldn't have changed anything."

Vincent didn't argue, but Dominic could feel his disapproval. He didn't care. Matteo was finished. Whether he lived or not didn't matter anymore.

They pulled up to the safe house, the headlights cutting through the darkness. Dominic barely had time to step out of the car before the door swung open.

"Elijah—"

Elijah slammed into him, gripping his shirt. "Are you crazy?! You could've died!"

Dominic let out a sharp breath. He had expected anger, maybe a glare, but not this.

Elijah's hands were trembling as he grabbed Dominic's face, checking him over. His eyes flickered to the blood on Dominic's sleeve. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?! You—"

Dominic silenced him by pulling him close. "I told you I'd come back."

Elijah didn't push him away. He just breathed against Dominic's shoulder, his body pressed tightly against his.

From behind, Adrian cleared his throat. "So… are we gonna talk about what just happened or are you two just gonna make out?"

Elijah groaned and pulled away. "Shut up, Adrian."

Vincent smirked, shaking his head. "Some things never change."

Dominic ignored them both, his gaze locked on Elijah. He could see it in his eyes—relief, worry, something deeper. They had made it through another war, but it wasn't over yet.

It never would be.

But for now, Dominic was home. And that was enough.

---

The atmosphere inside the safe house was tense. Though the battle was over, the weight of everything that had happened still hung in the air. Dominic sat on the couch, rolling up his bloodstained sleeve as Elijah disappeared into the kitchen. He returned moments later with a first aid kit, his jaw tight with frustration.

"Take off your shirt," Elijah ordered.

Dominic raised an amused brow. "You just can't resist, can you?"

Elijah shot him a glare. "I swear to God, Dominic—"

"Alright, alright." Dominic smirked but obeyed, pulling his shirt over his head. His torso was marked with fresh bruises and old scars, reminders of the life he lived. Elijah kneeled in front of him, carefully dabbing at the wound with antiseptic.

He didn't speak at first, his movements careful, almost gentle. Then, in a low voice, he muttered, "You should've killed him."

Dominic studied him. "Matteo?"

Elijah nodded, focusing on wrapping the bandage around Dominic's arm. "He'll come back. You know that."

"I know."

Elijah let out a frustrated sigh. "Then why didn't you—"

"Because I'm not like him."

Elijah's hands stilled for a moment before continuing. "And what if that gets you killed?"

Dominic reached out, tilting Elijah's chin up so their eyes met. "Then at least I die knowing I didn't become a monster."

Elijah swallowed hard. His fingers unconsciously gripped Dominic's knee, like he was grounding himself. "I hate you," he whispered.

Dominic chuckled. "No, you don't."

Elijah didn't respond, just went back to finishing the bandage. But his touch lingered a second too long, his eyes betraying something he wasn't ready to say out loud.

Vincent leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he watched the two. "Well, this is awkward."

Elijah groaned, standing up. "Can you not ruin every moment?"

Vincent grinned. "Not my fault you two have unresolved tension."

Adrian snickered from the other side of the room. "He's got a point."

Elijah rolled his eyes, but Dominic only smirked. For once, he let it go.

For now, they had peace. But deep down, he knew it wouldn't last.

And when the next storm came, he would be ready.

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