What's Wrong With Being An Omega Nanny?-Chapter 164: Alessandro Isn’t Dead!

Viktor heard what the dominant omega asked, her voice was trembling in the suddenly quiet trade room. The air was still thick with the smell of gunpowder, spilt drinks, and blood.

The distant thump of the club’s music upstairs had finally been cut off, leaving only the heavy breathing of the team and the soft whimpers of the chained Omegas. Viktor sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at her.

She sat on the floor, back against the wall, clutching her bleeding hand, eyes wide with a mix of fear and defiance.

He raised his hand in a quick signal. One of his men stepped forward immediately. He pulled out a pair of metal cuffs from his belt, the chain rattling softly. The omega flinched as the man knelt, grabbed her uninjured wrist, and clicked the cuff around it. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger. He looped the other cuff around the leg of a heavy metal chair bolted to the floor nearby, locking it tight. She was secured... sitting awkwardly on the cold concrete, one arm raised slightly, unable to stand or run.

Viktor watched the process without speaking, then turned to Harlan. The blonde man was wiping blood from his hands with a torn piece of his shirt, breathing hard but steady. Viktor snapped his fingers once, a sharp sound in the silence. "Harlan... what do you want to do with the rest of them?"

Harlan waved his phone, the screen lighting up his face. "It’s already done," he said, voice calm but tired. "All I needed was to lead those VIP guests out through the back door. Media’s waiting with cameras, microphones, and the works. They know exactly who to look for."

Viktor smirked, understanding immediately. Harlan had called the press ahead of time... he called for reporters from every major outlet, hungry for scandal. The VIPs consisted of politicians, businessmen, people with names that meant something and they were about to have their faces plastered everywhere, caught in the act of buying Omegas like property. No cover-up would save them now.

"Good thinking," Viktor said, nodding once. He turned to one of his men nearby—a younger guy with a radio clipped to his vest.

"Take care of the VIPs. Escort them out the back, one by one. Make sure the cameras catch every face. No masks, no hiding. Let the world see who they are. Monsters."

The man nodded sharply. "On it, boss."

Another team member stepped forward. "What about the Omegas? The victims?"

Viktor glanced at the chained figures along the walls....some crying quietly, others staring in stunned silence.

"Take them to the holding room upstairs. Ethan and Harlan—go with them. Get statements if they’re ready. Also, provide blankets, water, and a medical check. Be gentle with them and don’t force them."

Ethan, who had been kneeling beside the ponytail omega, Alex, looked up. His hands were shaking slightly as he helped Alex sit up straighter.

"I’ll go. Harlan... help me?"

Harlan nodded, wincing as he pressed a hand to the cut on his side. "Yeah. Let’s get them out of here."

The room slowly cleared. Men moved efficiently... unlocking chains with bolt cutters. The VIPs were marched out the back, with their heads down, hands cuffed behind them, straight into the glare of flashing cameras and shouted questions outside.

Soon, the trade room was almost empty.

Only the dominant omega remained, cuffed to the chair, and Viktor.

He pulled over a metal folding chair from the corner, the legs scraping loudly on the concrete. He set it down directly in front of her, about three feet away, and sat. The chair creaked under his weight. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking at her steadily.

She stared back, breathing fast, blood still dripping slowly from her hand onto the floor.

Viktor spoke first, voice low. "Valeria Corinne Moretti. Funny how you share the same name with my sister."

Her eyes widened in shock. The name... her full, real name... hit her like a slap. She jerked against the cuffs, chain rattling.

"How... how do you know that?"

Viktor leaned back slightly, keeping his eyes on hers. "I ran a background check. Deep one. You’re not as hidden as you think. Just who I thought you were... the last surviving Moretti. The one who watched her family get wiped out years ago. The one who built this place to get revenge."

She frowned, lips trembling. "I was so close. My plan... everything was almost perfect. You destroyed it."

Viktor tilted his head. "What was the plan, Valeria? Tell me."

She turned her face away, jaw tight. "No. I’m not telling you anything."

Viktor sighed, rubbing his jaw. He scooted the chair closer—close enough that their knees almost touched. His voice softened, careful. "I can help you. If you let me."

She laughed—a short, bitter sound. "Help me? Nothing would make me trust an Alpha. I despise them. All of them. Especially Alphas from Mafia families. You think you’re different?"

Viktor didn’t flinch. "I didn’t do anything to your family."

She glared at him. "I know. But people like you... people with power, money, guns... you’re the reason it happened. You ruin everything. You take. You destroy."

Viktor nodded slowly, not arguing.

"Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you can kidnap Omegas however you like. They have families too. People who love them. People waiting for them."

She smirked, though it looked painful. "They took my family from me. So what’s wrong with me taking them from their families? Fair trade."

Viktor stood up suddenly. The chair scraped back hard. She flinched, eyes darting to him. He kicked the chair aside—hard enough that it skidded across the floor and crashed into the wall. She watched him, breathing fast.

He squatted down in front of her, eye level now, hands resting on his knees. His voice stayed calm, almost gentle. "I’m trying to be as calm as possible here. You know I can’t hand you over to the police. Not really."

She snickered, though it sounded forced. "You’re pretty soft for an Alpha mafia. I thought you lot were always cold. Ruthless. Kill first, ask later."

Viktor rolled his eyes but she caught it. He sighed. "I have a heart. People to protect. Kids. A family. I can’t be ruthless and kill everyone in sight. That doesn’t fix anything."

She stared at him, searching his face. "So... are you going to kill me?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. I have no business in your life. All I want is justice. And the police won’t give it. They could throw you in jail, sure... but after a few days, a few weeks, you’d be out. Money talks. Connections talk. You know that."

She swallowed. "Then what are you going to do to me?"

Viktor stayed squatted, voice steady. "It’s up to the Omegas in your custody. If you treated them well... if you fed them, didn’t hurt them, gave them some dignity... then maybe they’ll spare you. But if you treated them worse than animals... then it’s up to them how you’re treated."

She shook her head fast, panic rising. "No. No. I don’t want that. I’d rather die in your hands. Do it. Just do it."

Viktor stood up slowly. She started screaming—loud, desperate. "Kill me! Kill me now! Don’t leave me with them!"

He didn’t answer. He walked away. Her yells echoed behind him, raw and broken.

When he got out through the main exit, the night air hit him. His men were outside, securing the perimeter. On the other side of the police tape, reporters had gathered, cameras flashing, microphones thrust forward. Influential men were being led out in cuffs, heads down, faces exposed to the bright lights.

Questions were shouted:

"Senator, why were you in there?"

"Mr Chairman, comment on the charges?"

"How long have you been coming to Club Eclipse?"

Viktor stretched his arms over his head, feeling the ache in his shoulders from the night. He said quietly to Nico who was standing beside him,

"One down. The club Eclipse is done. Next is the Mafia, which stole the Drago port. Get the team ready."

The Nico nodded. "Already on it."

Viktor took his phone out of his pocket. His thumb hovered over Elias’s name. He wanted to call to ask if everything was fine at home, if the kids were asleep, and if Elias was okay after the long day. But he stopped. He didn’t want to stress Elias. Not now. He wanted to finish this—clear the board, end the war—so he could go home and spend the rest of the year in peace with his children and Elias.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked up at the sky. Dawn was still hours away.

.

.

Meanwhile, it was almost dawn... 3 a.m. The Corleone estate was quiet, except for a few security lights. Bianca stepped out of Richardo’s room, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body. The hallway was cold, the floor hard under her bare feet. She moved carefully, trying not to make a noise.

Then she heard Sofia’s voice...soft, but clear. "How is it?"

Bianca flinched in fear, heart jumping. She turned, clutching the blanket closer. "Sofia? Why are you here?"

Sofia stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed, face serious.

"I wanted to be here for my younger sister. I couldn’t sleep."

Bianca rolled her eyes, though her hands were shaking.

"You scared me half to death. I thought I got caught."

They walked back to their room together, footsteps quiet on the carpet. When they reached the door, Sofia closed it softly behind them.

"So?" Sofia asked, voice low. "What did the old man say?"

Bianca shrugged, sitting on the edge of her bed, blanket still wrapped around her. "Richardo didn’t kill Alessandro. He left him at an abandoned playground."

The room went silent.

Sofia stared at her.

"That means, Alessandro isn’t dead."