The attack came at 2:17 a.m.
Black vans rammed the front gate. Moon Ho-cheol's entire crew spilled out—twenty men, guns and knives, faces painted for war. Alarms screamed. Guards went down in the first thirty seconds.
Kang-woo woke to the first gunshot and was already moving. He grabbed the gun Ji-woon kept under the pillow, checked the magazine like the old days, and shoved his feet into shoes.
Ji-woon was pulling on a shirt, eyes black. "Stay behind me."
"Like hell." Kang-woo racked the slide. "This is my crew. My mess. You protect the kid. I end it."
They met the fight in the main hall.
Bullets punched through windows. A thug came around the corner with a shotgun. Kang-woo dropped to one knee—pregnant belly be damned—and put two rounds in the guy's chest before he could aim. The body hit the marble with a wet slap.
Ji-woon took down two more with precise shots, but the crew kept coming. One of them got close enough to swing a knife at Ji-woon's throat.
Kang-woo moved without thinking. He slammed into the attacker from the side, drove the gun barrel into the man's ribs, and pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed. The knife clattered away.
"Get back!" he snarled at Ji-woon.
Ji-woon grabbed his arm. "You're pregnant—"
"And pissed." Kang-woo shook him off and kept moving.
Moon Ho-cheol waited at the bottom of the grand staircase like he owned the place, cigarette glowing, rifle slung over his shoulder.
"Mad Dog," he called. "Still playing house? Hand over the CEO and the kid and I'll make it quick."
Kang-woo stepped forward, gun steady even though his heart was hammering. "You want me? Come take me."
Moon raised the rifle.
Ji-woon lunged to shield him.
The shot cracked.
Kang-woo saw the muzzle flash, saw Ji-woon jerk, saw red bloom across the Alpha's white shirt.
Everything went quiet except the roar in his own head.
He moved like the old days—fast, dirty, no mercy.
He fired three times. Moon's rifle flew from his hands. Kang-woo closed the distance, slammed the gun into Moon's face, then drove a knee into his stomach. The old boss dropped. Kang-woo followed him down, pressed the barrel to his forehead, and cocked the hammer.
"You shot my husband," he said, voice soft and pretty and ice-cold. "Big mistake."
Moon smiled with bloody teeth. "Kill me and the rest of the crew still burns this place."
Kang-woo pressed harder. "Then I guess I'll just have to kill all of them too."
Behind him, Ji-woon coughed, blood on his lips, but alive. Guards finally flooded the hall and swarmed the last attackers.
Kang-woo kept the gun on Moon's head while the crew was rounded up in cuffs and zip ties.
Ji-woon staggered over, one hand pressed to his bleeding side, the other reaching for Kang-woo's stomach like he needed to feel the baby was still safe.
"You saved me," he rasped.
Kang-woo looked at the man bleeding for him, then at the gun in his own hand, then at the small swell under his shirt.
"Yeah," he said. "Guess I did."
Moon laughed weakly on the floor. "Still think you belong here, princess?"
Kang-woo didn't answer.
He just pulled the trigger.
The gunshot echoed through the mansion like the final period on his old life.
And somewhere in the silence that followed, the baby kicked hard against his palm.
The external war was over.
But the real fight the one inside his own head was just beginning.