Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 382: Vito, I Hope You Rot in Hell!

After everything with the Blackwells, I was running on empty. Wisteria’s death had lifted something I hadn’t even realized I was still carrying a weight that had settled into my bones so gradually I’d stopped noticing it. Now the only thing that mattered, the only person who mattered, was Lewis.

After I finished showering and pulling on fresh clothes, I found him in the bedroom, carefully rewrapping the bandages around his chest. The sight of them made something twist painfully inside me. The white gauze against his skin was a quiet reminder of what he’d done what he’d taken for me.

"Lewis..."

He looked up and simply reached out his hand, a silent invitation. "Come here."

I crossed the room and sat beside him, and he pulled me onto his lap without a word, wrapping both arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. His warmth bled into me instantly, the bond between us humming low and steady like it always did when we were this close.

"Elena, let me hold you," he murmured against my neck. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"I’m sorry for worrying you again." I felt him exhale slowly. Even though it had only been one day, the brutal chaos of everything that had unfolded must have shaken something deep in him that fierce, protective instinct he could never quite keep quiet.

"As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about."

"You’re being silly. Dominic never meant to hurt me. I walked away without a scratch you took the knife for me."

His fingers brushed my cheek gently, turning my face toward his. "Elena, the more people standing in your corner, the better your odds. Even Aunt Amber keeps a lot close to her chest about that group. But if our paths are tied together and I believe they are then Dominic and Amber will fight for you when it counts. I just need to know you have a safety net. I need that."

I understood exactly what he meant. I really did.

I let out a long breath. "The feud with the Blackwells may be finished, but the trafficking operation is still running. Are we supposed to just let them disappear into the shadows?"

"Elena, even if you handed everything to the police, it wouldn’t move the needle. Dominic isn’t running the whole machine he’s just one piece of the Snowville network. These operations have roots everywhere, and the people at the top stay buried. We don’t have enough on the Blackwells to go after them properly, and even if we did you saw what happened to Sheila and Silas."

I went quiet. The memory of Sheila’s end settled over me like cold water, and the thought of Amber facing something similar made my chest tighten unbearably. But even removing them wouldn’t stop the money from flowing. Dominic’s seat would be filled before the body was cold. We couldn’t chase down every single one of them.

"For now, let the Blackwells live," Lewis said carefully. "At least they won’t be causing any more damage. We watch them, we learn their movements, and maybe we find a thread that leads us to whoever’s really pulling the strings."

I nodded slowly. "I understand. But the Sanders brought this on themselves, Lewis except the Sanders back then were nothing but pieces on someone else’s board. Commander and his wife moved them like pawns. Both the Sanders and the Blackwells have bled for it, but those two walked away clean." I paused, jaw tight. "Where’s the justice in that?"

He was quiet. "What do you mean Commander?"

I told him everything. All of it. And I watched the understanding settle into his expression like something clicking into place.

"So even the Blackwells don’t know the whole truth?"

"Exactly. Grandma’s greed cracked the foundation, but Commander and his wife brought the whole house down on purpose. If the Commander’s wife hadn’t let people humiliate Mrs. Blackwell Senior if she hadn’t orchestrated the family’s destruction piece by piece none of them would have ended up this way. The Sanders wouldn’t have been wiped out either."

Looking back now, everything traced back to that couple. They were the turning point. If it had only been the Commander, maybe Mrs. Blackwell Senior would have found a way to live for her children despite the pain. Ronald might have treated her better. Their lives wouldn’t have been perfect, but they could have found some kind of peace without the festering hatred the Blackwells carried all these years. The Sanders might have survived it.

"I really want to know where that man is now," I said, and I could hear the edge in my own voice. "What happened to him and everyone who came after him."

"From what I know, after the warlord era collapsed, order came back fast. Commander either moved into business or fled the country. With the connections he had, the money he’d accumulated he’s probably comfortable somewhere. Unless something catastrophic found him." Lewis said it plainly, and I believed him.

But knowing the truth didn’t quiet the storm in my head. I kept seeing Wisteria’s twisted expression, Yael curled under a tree with his arms over his head, Vito bloodied and fierce throwing himself in front of his brother. And Dominic. Charming on the surface, obsessive underneath. All the Blackwell faces I hadn’t even met yet. Ethan. Jake. Josh. Greg. So many people tangled up in a web that started long before any of us were born.

Grandma always said hatred was a poison that only ever kills the one holding it. An eye for an eye and everyone ends up blind. But I couldn’t stop wondering whether the people who had shattered our lives ever lost a single night of sleep over it. Did they rest easy, walking on top of the wreckage they’d made?

"Elena." Lewis’s voice pulled me back. "You can’t rush this. I’ll help you we’ll look into it together. But right now, you need to rest."

He had some ointment in his hand and was already reaching for me. "Let me check you over."

"I’m fine, just some bruises " I winced as his fingers found a tender spot, and the words died in my throat.

The crash earlier hadn’t been catastrophic, but my body had a few things to say about it regardless.

"Stubborn," he said quietly, with that soft, knowing look that always made it impossible to argue.

He was the one who’d been stabbed. And here he was, taking care of me. I gave up trying to protest and just let him, lying still while his hands moved carefully over my scrapes.

"How are Riley and Harlan?"

"They’ll be fine," he answered, his attention still fixed on the task in front of him.

"Can we call them? I’ve been worried about Riley."

Lewis shook his head. "The signal on this island is blocked. If Aunt Amber and the others hadn’t figured out Dominic’s plan when they did, I wouldn’t have reached you in time." He paused, his voice dropping slightly softer. "But don’t worry. I checked already Harlan broke a few ribs. Nothing life-threatening."

"That’s a relief." I let out a breath. "I didn’t like him before."

"I remember."

"But watching him throw himself into danger for Riley I can’t hold onto that anymore." I trailed off. They were their own kind of tragedy. Riley had already chosen to gamble with her future, but she didn’t love Harlan the way he loved her. And even if she someday did, she’d probably choose to leave him, just to keep him safe from a fate she couldn’t control. She wouldn’t let someone else drown because of her. Why did it always end up that way for us?

When Lewis finished, he lay down beside me, pulling me close. He hadn’t slept in over a day, and within minutes his breathing slowed and deepened, steady and warm against the back of my neck.

I stared at the lines of his face relaxed now, peaceful in a way he rarely allowed himself to be when he was awake. The Wisteria situation was resolved. The Blackwell feud was done. So why did unease still sit in my chest like a stone? Like something larger was coiling just beyond the edge of my vision, waiting.

I couldn’t sleep. Carefully, I drew the blanket over Lewis and eased myself out of his arms without waking him.

Whitney had been through more than most people could survive. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. I slipped quietly into the hallway to find her and stopped dead.

She was already there. Changed, kneeling on the floor in front of Vito, her shoulders shaking as she cried and begged him. "Please. Just give my father a proper burial. Please."

She still didn’t know Josh was alive.

Vito had to keep up the act for Dominic. Whitney was the key to that she had to believe it, so Dominic would. With his back to her, Vito’s voice came out like ice. "No. He was cremated. His ashes will be scattered in the waste pit, and his name will be forgotten."

I stood there, completely speechless.

I had to hand it to him. He was bold. If I hadn’t watched the doctor work on Josh with my own eyes, I might have believed him too.

Whitney couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She shot to her feet, and the crack of her palm against Vito’s face split the silence like a gunshot.

"Vito, you monster! I hope you rot in hell! I hate you "