The silence was heavier than the chaos.
Dr. Alistair Finch hung limp in Victor's grip. His wrist was bent wrong. His breath came in ragged gasps. The sirens outside promised a legal ending. Victor didn't want that.
His fingers tightened on Finch's collar. The urge was a physical pull. To snap the neck. To end it. Swift. Final. Justice.
"Victor."
Elara's voice cut through the red haze. Calm. Certain. She wasn't shouting.
He turned his head. His eyes, still burning, met hers across the room. She stood steady. Unwavering.
"He's not worth it," she said, her voice low. "Not worth the shadow on our future. He wanted to make you a killer again. Don't give him that victory."
The truth hit him like ice water.
Killing Finch wouldn't be winning. It would be losing. It would prove Finch right. It would mean the monster was still in charge.
Victor's grip loosened. Just a fraction.
The war inside him was raw on his face. Alpha rage versus the man he'd built himself into.
Finch felt the shift. He wheezed, a desperate whisper. "See? She controls you. Makes you weak. You were purer in your rage."
Last words of a broken man.
Victor looked from Finch's twisted face to Elara's steady one.
This was the breaking point.
Not of their bond. Of his last chain.
He made his choice.
With a final, contemptuous shove, he released Finch. The man crumpled to the floor, clutching his wrist. Victor stepped back. His chest heaved.
Mastering the beast was harder than unleashing it.
"No, Alistair," Victor said, his voice quiet and cold. "She doesn't make me weak. She makes me free."
The police lights painted the walls blue and red.
The monster was gone.
---
The loft flooded with light and shouts.
Officers swarmed in. Guns raised. Their focus landed on Victor—a furious giant over a broken man.
Elara moved.
She stepped between Victor and the guns, hands up. Her voice was clear authority.
"This is Dr. Alistair Finch. Subject of your international warrant. He set the fire. He was fleeing. We detained him."
Her words changed everything.
The focus swung to Finch. He was surrounded. Rights were read. He was hauled up.
As they dragged him past, Finch locked eyes with Victor one last time.
No clever remark. No final analysis.
Just hollow, terrified defeat.
The master manipulator was done.
Victor didn't watch him leave. He looked only at Elara.
The adrenaline was fading. Exhaustion poured into the space it left. The sirens and shouts became distant noise.
She was the only real thing.
She turned to him. Her composure cracked at the edges now. Safe. He saw the look in his eyes. Raw. Unguarded.
Not the CEO. Not the Alpha.
Just the man who chose her over vengeance.
He closed the distance. His arms wrapped around her. The embrace was desperate need. He buried his face in her hair. His whole body trembled.
Elara held him just as tight. Her tears finally fell, soaking his shirt.
They stood in the chaos. Two pillars holding each other up.
The breaking point was past.
The foundation had held.
---
The penthouse was a sanctuary. Dawn bled soft colors across the sky.
They stood on the terrace. The city stirred below, ignorant of the ended war. The fire's scar on the riverfront was just a mark now. Proof of survival.
Victor leaned on the railing. He felt hollow. Clean.
"He's gone," he said. It wasn't a question.
"He's gone," Elara confirmed, beside him. "He'll face a dozen countries' charges. He'll die in a cell."
Victor watched the sun climb. "I wanted to kill him," he confessed, the words rough. "For a moment, it was all I wanted. It would have been easy."
"I know," she whispered.
"But you stopped me." He turned to her. His eyes were clear. The ghosts were gone. "You didn't just stop my hand. You stopped me from becoming the man he designed. The man I was becoming before you."
He reached out. His fingers traced her cheek. "You saved me, Elara. Not from him. From myself."
Tears filled her eyes again. Relief. Joy. She covered his hand with hers. "We saved each other."
The revenge path was over. The contract was fulfilled. Not with blood.
With mercy. With choice.
The man on the terrace was just Victor. Whole. Healed. Free.
The sun crested the horizon. Light flooded the space.
He drew her into his arms. They stood together. Watching the new day dawn on their new life.
The foundation was solid.
And it was finally theirs.