Page 42 of The Mafia's Septuplets
I frown, irritated she’d thank me for a simple kindness. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“I do though. You could have insisted we leave immediately for security reasons. Instead, you let me grieve and recover what mattered most.”
The gratitude in her voice makes my chest fell hollow. That she needs to thank me for basic human decency reveals how little softness she’s experienced in the world. I sound gruff, like I’m irritated, when I reply, but it’s just because of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. “You matter more than security schedules, and I had Timur bring in more men.”
When we reach the main house, she goes directly to her suite without conversation. I give her time to process the day’s events while I review security reports and coordinate response measures with Timur.
Forty minutes later, she appears in my bedroom doorway wearing one of my shirts and nothing else. The sight of her in my clothes sends possessive satisfaction through me, though her expression carries vulnerability that makes me want to wrap her in protection she can’t see or touch.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asks.
“You don’t need to ask. This is your home now.”
She approaches the bed with careful movements, and I pull back the covers so she can settle beside me. The mattress dips under her weight, and she immediately curls against my side with her head on my chest and her hand resting over my heart.
“I don’t want to be a prisoner,” she whispers into the darkness. “I don’t want to be a target either, but I don’t want to live my whole life afraid.”
I stroke her hair with gentle fingers while choosing my words carefully. “It won’t be your whole life. This will end.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m going to kill Mikhail Balakin, and that will end his war permanently.”
She doesn’t flinch at the blunt statement or try to talk me out of necessary violence. Instead, she simply nods against my chest as if she’d already reached the same conclusion. “When?”
“Soon. He’s escalated to personal attacks, which means he’s running out of patience for psychological warfare. He’ll make a direct move soon, and when he does, I’ll be ready.”
She stiffens against me. “What if something happens to you?”
The question reveals fears she hasn’t voiced before. What would happen to her and seven babies if Mikhail manages to kill me before I can eliminate him? The practical concerns are staggering, though I’ve already made arrangements to ensure she’s protected regardless. I need to make time to sit down with my attorney to ensure she’s financially cared for as well as addressing her safety. “Timur has instructions to ensure your safety and financial security if something happens to me. You and the children will be taken care of, and I’ll meet with my attorney to make it official as soon as he can come to me.”
She looks briefly relieved and nods but says, “That’s not what I meant.”
I look down at her, though the darkness makes it difficult to read her expression. “What did you mean?”
“I don’t want to lose you. Not for practical reasons, but because...” She trails off, apparently unable or unwilling to finish the thought.
The incomplete admission reveals more than a full declaration might have. She cares about me beyond security arrangementsand business partnerships. The knowledge settles into my bones with quiet satisfaction. “You won’t lose me. I have too much to live for now.”
She relaxes against me at the reassurance and within minutes, her breathing deepens into sleep. I lie awake long after she’s unconscious and think about the seven children growing inside her body, creating a family we’re building from violence, necessity, and something that might be love.
Seven babies will change everything about my future. They’ll require different choices, different priorities, and different definitions of acceptable risk. The man who built an empire through cruelty won’t be the same man who raises seven children to understand right from wrong.
My own father ruled through fear and violence, demanding absolute obedience while offering no affection or guidance beyond threats. I learned early that weakness invited punishment, and showing emotion marked you as a target for cruelty.
I won’t be that kind of father. These children will know they’re loved and protected without needing to fear the man who’s supposed to keep them safe. They’ll grow up understanding strength comes from protecting others, not dominating them.
The responsibility terrifies me as much as it thrills me. Seven small people will depend on me to create a world where they can thrive rather than simply survive. They’ve given me a new chance to build something better than what I inherited and to become the man their mother deserves rather than the one circumstances created.
She shifts in her sleep and makes a soft sound that might be contentment. I hold her closer and make silent promises about the future we’ll build together once Mikhail Balakin is dead and buried. Seven babies are counting on me to keep those promises, and I won’t let them down.