Chapter One Hundred And One

Chapter 101
The air was thick with tension, the sound of waves crashing against the docks underscoring the heavy silence. Jon Ross stood at the head of his reinforcements, his sinister grin a sharp contrast to the grim determination etched across the faces of Jemima and her group.
Jemima tightened her grip on her weapon, her knuckles white as her gaze locked with Jon's. Every fiber of her being screamed to end this now, to protect her family and friends at all costs. Jay moved to her side, his stance protective but poised for action.
“Mindgames,” Jemma’s voice was low but clear. Jemima didn’t need to ask twice, she perfectly understood what Jemma was planning.
"Nice reunion you've got going here," Jon drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Shame it's going to end in tears."
“What is your endgame, Jon?” Jemima asked, surprising everyone, including herself.
“Child, you’re a fool if you still think this has an endgame,” Jon shot back, his eyes bloodshot as his reinforcements stood strongly behind him.
“So what is it, Jon? Or are you too scared to admit that this is all for nothing that’s been built on nothing but ridicule and jealousy for the valerians?” Jemima screamed, her chest heaving with anger.
“What are you doing?” Jay whispered, tugging at the hem of her dress so she’d stop but she vehemently pulled away from his grasp and focused on Jon.
“Your mother thought she could walk all over me after everything I gave her. She considered me a weakling but no! I have here with me every single army in the Bratva and none of you are leaving here alive!” Jon shouted, rolls of thunder clapping in the sky above which added a layer of insight to his tone.
“But at what cost? Even your son is disgusted by you and wants nothing to do with you! You’re nothing but a miserable man who has nothing going on for himself. Preying on weaker people feeds your ego that’s why you’d rather form alliances with the Bratva than correct your mistakes. You’re nothing but fucking Coward Jon Ross!” Jemima exclaimed, tears in her eyes poured out like a faucet.
“Enough!” Jon barked, “this ends now!”
"Not if we end you first," Marcus shot back, stepping forward with his gun raised.
Jon chuckled darkly, unfazed. "Bold words for a man outnumbered and outgunned. But then again, your family's always been stubborn."
Ava, clutching her injured shoulder, stepped forward. Her face was pale but fierce, her eyes blazing with defiance. "You'll regret underestimating us, Jon. You always have."
Jon's smile faltered for a split second before he waved his hand. "Kill them all."
The docks exploded into chaos.
Gunfire erupted, the deafening cracks reverberating off the water and concrete. Jemima dove for cover behind a stack of crates, pulling Jay with her as bullets ricocheted around them. She peeked out just long enough to return fire, her shots precise and fueled by raw determination.
Marcus and Dimitri took up defensive positions, their combined firepower holding back Jon's advancing men. Dimitri's injuries slowed him, but he fought with the desperation of someone with nothing left to lose.
Vanessa stayed close to Alan, the two of them working in tandem to pick off enemies. Alan's sharp eye and steady hand made him a formidable shot, while Vanessa's quick reflexes kept them both alive.
Ava, despite her injury, was relentless. She moved like a storm, her shots finding their marks with deadly accuracy. Jemima caught glimpses of her sister out of the corner of her eye and felt a surge of pride and fear.
"Stay low!" Jay shouted, pulling Jemima back as a spray of bullets tore through the crate they were using as cover.
Jemima nodded, her heart pounding. "We need to split them up. They're too organized."
Jay glanced around, his mind racing. "The fuel barrels by the east dock. If we can get to them..."
Jemima didn't need him to finish. "I'll cover you."
"No," Jay said firmly. "You're not going out there alone."
Before Jemima could argue, Marcus's voice rang out. "Jay, Jemima—move! We'll hold them here!"
Jemima hesitated, torn between her instincts to fight and the trust she had in her brother. Finally, she nodded. "Be careful."
"You too," Marcus said, firing off another shot before ducking behind cover.
Jemima and Jay darted through the chaos, weaving between crates and containers as bullets whizzed past. The fuel barrels were just ahead, glinting ominously under the harsh lights.
"We'll need to ignite them and retreat fast," Jay said, already pulling a lighter from his pocket.
Jemima nodded, scanning the area. "Cover me. I'll rig them."
Jay hesitated, but the urgency in her voice left no room for debate. He positioned himself to provide cover fire as Jemima crouched by the barrels, her hands moving quickly to prepare a makeshift fuse.
"Almost there," she muttered, her fingers trembling.
A sudden movement caught her eye, and she looked up just in time to see one of Jon's men charging toward them.
"Jay!" she shouted.
Jay spun, his gun barking as he took the man down. But the momentary distraction cost them. Another enemy emerged from the shadows, aiming directly at Jemima.
Time seemed to slow as the man's finger tightened on the trigger.
A single shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground. Jemima turned to see Ava standing a few feet away, her gun still smoking.
"Don't thank me yet," Ava said, grimacing as she pressed a hand to her bleeding shoulder.
Jemima finished rigging the barrels and scrambled back to Jay. "Light it!"
Jay flicked the lighter and tossed it onto the fuse. The fire sparked and raced toward the barrels.
"Run!" Jemima shouted.
They sprinted back toward cover just as the barrels exploded in a deafening roar. The blast sent a shockwave through the docks, scattering Jon's men and creating a wall of fire between them and the group.
The explosion bought them a brief reprieve, but it wasn't long before Jon stepped through the flames, his face a mask of fury. He was flanked by a handful of his most loyal men, their determination unshaken by the chaos.
"Enough of this," Jon growled, raising his weapon. "You're all going to die here."
Jemima stepped forward, her gun trained on him. "Not if I kill you first."
Jon laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "You don't have the guts."
Jemima's hand trembled, but she held her ground. "You don't know me."
Before she could pull the trigger, Jon's men opened fire again. The group scattered, returning fire with everything they had left.
Ava and Marcus worked together to flank Jon, their coordinated attack forcing him to retreat slightly. Dimitri, despite his injuries, charged one of Jon's men, taking him down in a brutal hand-to-hand fight.
Alan and Vanessa provided covering fire, their movements synchronized as they picked off enemies with deadly precision.
Jemima found herself face-to-face with Jon, the chaos around them fading into the background.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble," Jon said, his voice low and dangerous. "But it ends now."
Jemima didn't respond. She lunged forward, her movements fueled by adrenaline and fury. Their weapons clattered to the ground as they grappled, each fighting for control.
Jon was stronger, but Jemima was faster. She ducked under his swing and drove her elbow into his ribs, forcing him to stumble back.
"You should've stayed out of this," Jon snarled, drawing a knife.
Jemima's heart raced as she dodged his attacks, each swing of the blade coming closer than the last.
"Jemima!" Jay's voice cut through the chaos, and she turned just in time to see him throw her a weapon.
She caught it and fired without hesitation. The shot hit Jon in the shoulder, sending him to his knees.
The battle around them fell silent as Jon's men realized their leader was down.
Jon clutched his bleeding shoulder, his face twisted in pain and rage. "You think this is over?" he spat.
"It is for you," Jemima said coldly, raising her gun again.
"Wait," Ava said, stepping forward. "Let him live."
Jemima looked at her sister in disbelief. "After everything he's done?"
Ava's gaze was steady. "Killing him makes us no better than him. Let the authorities deal with him."
Jemima hesitated, her finger hovering over the trigger. Finally, she lowered the gun, her body trembling with the effort.
Jon glared at them, but his defiance faltered as Marcus stepped forward. Marcus smirked.
“I am the authority, Ava, I am the Godfather!”
And with that, Marcus cocked his gun at him but before he pulled the trigger, Alan came into view.
“Don’t kill him,” Ava whispered into Marcus’s ear. Marcus stared at Alan and they both engaged in a silent battle of understanding.
With one last breath, Marcus knocked Jon out cold with the back of the gun.
The group stood in silence, the weight of their victory sinking in.
"It's over," Jay said softly, wrapping an arm around Jemima.
"For now," Marcus added grimly, his eyes scanning the wreckage.
Jemima looked at her family and friends, their faces battered but alive. Despite the pain and loss, they had won.
And for the first time in a long while, she felt hope.