What's Wrong With Being An Omega Nanny?-Chapter 162: Shit?

Viktor disconnected the call as soon as he got the message from Harlan and immediately alerted the other men through comms, his voice was calm and filled with urgency.

"Okay! Team—ready check. Weapons checked? Comms checked?"

Responses came quickly. "Ready." "Checked." "All good."

Viktor smiled even though he heard the response. Everything was going smoothly. But at the same time, it made him scared. Because sometimes when everything is happening smoothly, something can go wrong at the end, ruining everyone’s hard work.

He shook the bad thoughts off his head and cleared his throat.

"Nothing would happen. Nothing can definitely go wrong!"

He grabbed his gun from the holster, putting extra bullets inside his pocket in case he needed them during the chaos. He told some men over the radio, "Station yourselves at the secret backdoor we saw on the map... in case they try to run away that way. Block it tight."

"Roger." They spread immediately, moving into position around the club.

"Okay! It’s now or never," Ethan exhaled deeply, also feeling nervous.

Viktor stared at his hands that were trembling a little. He suddenly realised that Ethan wasn’t from a Mafia family. He was just an ordinary man who was going to be the heir one day.

Viktor suddenly leaned in, trying to take the gun from him but Ethan noticed and pulled his hand away.

"Are you sure you can handle that?" Viktor questioned.

"It’s not my first time. I can handle it," Ethan replied with a determined voice.

"I see..." Viktor shook hands with Ethan, the grip firm. "Good luck."

Ethan nodded with his heart thumping fast. "You too. Let’s end this."

They headed to the club, splitting to cover entrances. From outside, as teams moved in quietly, the Omegas at the front started screaming as they saw armed men in dark gear approaching fast. Panic spread, and people scattered in all directions.

Even those inside the club started screaming as teams breached the main doors, the music still bursting through the speakers loudly, drums thumping over the chaos.

And that’s when it started. Teams moved efficiently... some men working in the bar as security or staff were restrained quickly with zip ties, and no shots were fired yet to keep it controlled and make sure those in the secret trade room aren’t running away yet.

The Omegas inside were rounded up carefully. Since there were a bunch of omegas working as slaves, there were also those who worked there willingly and those who came to dance. Teams immediately identified the ones with tattoos as victims, treating them gently, wrapping blankets around their shoulders, and leading them to safe areas away from the action.

"Get them into the van. The van on the west side! Move!" Viktor yelled into the Comms.

Inside the trade room, the trade was still ongoing as men auctioned for Omegas on a small stage, voices calling bids calmly like it was normal business. Harlan hated what he was seeing—the Omegas on display, with their scared eyes, and forced smiles.

He was still acting drunk, slouched in his chair, but inside he just couldn’t take it anymore, especially as his anger kept building. He wanted to slip his hand into his pocket and pull out his gun to end it, but one of the Omegas working in the bar ran in suddenly, with a pale face. "The club is under attack! Armed men everywhere!"

The men started whispering and groaning, shifting uncomfortably. They didn’t want to get caught up in this since their reputations, families, and businesses were at risk.

The host... the beautiful dominant omega, the same one that’s the owner of the club but pretending not to be... stood up quickly from her seat near the stage.

Harlan immediately recognised her after Ethan’s detailed description of her. She was elegant, with long hair and sharp eyes, dressed in a sleek outfit that commanded attention. She was the dominant omega who’s been in charge of this hellhole.

As soon as she heard about the attack, she wanted to run toward a side exit, but Harlan was quick to catch her, moving fast despite his "drunk" act. He held her hands and pulled them to the back firmly. "Not so fast, pretty girl."

She started to yell, struggling.

"I’m innocent! I was forced to do this. Please! Help me! You have to take me away from these people."

Harlan first pretended to believe her, loosening his grip a bit.

"Really? Why don’t we work together then? Tell me... where’s your boss? Tell me, and maybe I’ll help."

She sniffed, tears coming fast, trying to touch his arm.

"He’s the one who controls everything. He is..."

He knew very well how to avoid her touch because she would create a tattoo on his body with her ability to control him to do anything she wanted. He beat her hands off sharply, stepping back. Her eyes suddenly went cold as she burst into laughter, the act dropping.

She asked, "You’re one of the people terrorising my club?"

Harlan shrugged, hand near his gun. "So what if I am?"

She snapped her finger, and suddenly guns appeared from all the corners of the room—hidden panels opening, armed guards stepping out, pointing at him. Harlan stepped back, hands up slowly as he requested backup through his earpiece. "Need support... Now!"

She smiled. "Support? No one will come to your aid. You’re trapped."

Harlan didn’t want to believe her until he heard Viktor’s voice in the background over comms, strained.

"Harlan, the pin has changed. We don’t know the new one. The door’s locked solid. I’m sorry, Harlan."

Harlan sighed, muttering under his breath about having to do it himself. He took off his coat slowly, rolling his shoulders as the VIP men were moved to the back of the large hall by guards. Harlan gave Viktor an order calmly.

"Break down the door as quickly as you can. I’ll be done with the people in here by the time it’s down."

Viktor asked, concern clear. "You sure you can handle them alone?"

Harlan smirked, cracking his knuckles. "I’m from the Corleone house. This is a small thing for me."

The omega froze when she heard Corleone’s house, her confidence cracking. She didn’t want to believe it until Harlan took out his gun smoothly, the Corleone insignia was clear on the handle. She froze and whispered, "Shit!"