Page 81 of Vengeance

"No." Vengeance's voice stayed calm. "My mother did. "You stole my life from me."

Something dark flashed across Dante's face. "You always were weak."

"No, I just learned compassion, and how to love,” Vengeance argued.

Dante laughed. "You actually believe love makes you stronger? Love is a disease."

"No, it’s not. Love has already made me stronger," Vengeance insisted.

Dante slowly drew the pistol hidden behind his back. "You disappoint me."

"I know, but I’m good with that,” Vengeance said.

"You could've ruled the world,” Dante shouted.

"I'd rather save one little girl than own the whole damn thing." The words hit Dante harder than any bullet could. His face twisted with genuine confusion.

"Why would you feel that way?" his father asked.

Vengeance looked him directly in the eyes. "Because that's what Savage would've done."

For the first time, real anger crossed Dante's face. "I hated that man."

"I know you did, and he felt the same way about you,” Vengeance insisted.

"He stole everything from me."

"No, he just exposed what you already were."

Dante's finger tightened on the trigger. "You know,” he said, smiling at Vengeance, “I never loved Elena." Vengeance shrugged as though it didn’t mean anything to him. "I never loved you either."

Vengeance didn't flinch. "I know."

"I only ever loved one thing." He spread his arms toward the mansion. "My power." The confession echoed through the room, and every illusion Vengeance ever had about his father died in that instant. Every question Vengeance had carried since childhood finally had its answer. There had never been a father to save—only a monster.

Dante fired, and Vengeance moved fast. He fired one shot, and the bullet shattered Dante's shoulder. The second struck him squarely in the chest, and Dante staggered backward.His pistol slipped from numb fingers, and he almost looked surprised as blood spread across his white shirt.

"You—” He coughed. "You were supposed to become me."

Vengeance lowered his weapon. "I became Savage's son instead.” Dante collapsed onto his desk, and Vengeance watched as the life drained from his eyes. It was something he had waited a long time to see, but it was worth it. The monster who had raised him was finally gone, and nothing would get in the way of his happiness ever again—he’d make sure of it.

Vengeance walked out of the office and back down the grand staircase, not bothering to look back. There was nothing left for him back there. FBI tactical vehicles poured through the gates, and this time, the agents inside of them weren't corrupt.

Whitmore's arrest an hour earlier had broken the political shield protecting Black Veil. Agents flooded the mansion and went room by room, clearing the place. Gabriel emerged carrying a heavy steel case. "We found it." He handed the case to Bowie, and he opened it. There were thousands of pages inside with names, photos, bank account numbers, and shipping routes. They had found the Lazarus Files, and it was everything that they needed to bring down the Black Veil Syndicate. Doc hadn't hidden the evidence; he hid everything they’d need to destroy the devil.

Bowie closed the lid. "It's over."

"No," Gabriel corrected quietly. "Now justice starts."

Three Months Later

Every major news network carried the same story: The Black Veil Syndicate had officially ceased to exist. More than fourhundred arrests had been made in twenty-three countries. Hundreds of survivors had been rescued. Properties were seized, and accounts had been frozen. For the first time in decades, the missing girls had names again. Memorials replaced secrets, trials replaced silence, and hope replaced fear.

Vengeance stood beside Savage's grave. He had placed fresh flowers on Elena's grave, along with an old lighter on Savage’s headstone. "You were right." The wind stirred the trees, making him smile. "I finally figured out what revenge really looks like."

It wasn’t about hate or death. It was about justice. He smiled faintly. "I think you'd be proud."

A familiar hand slipped into his, and Chloe stood beside him. "He would be proud of you. I know I am. Are you ready?" He looked back toward the motorcycles waiting at the cemetery gates, where Bowie and Dallas stood waiting for them. They had quickly become a family—the one he always wanted.