Page 60 of The Mafia's Septuplets
18
Iskander
The legitimate business meeting takes place in a glass conference room overlooking Charleston’s harbor. Three potential partners sit across from me, their expressions flat as I outline investment opportunities that could secure Willa’s future and mine.
“The restaurant chain generates consistent revenue with established customer bases in prime locations,” I say, sliding financial reports across the polished table. “We’re looking for strategic partners who understand the value of long-term growth over quick profits.”
David Wellington, a hotel magnate with interests throughout the Southeast, studies the numbers with professional skepticism. “The margins are solid, but the industry can be volatile. What makes you confident this particular chain will weather economic downturns?”
I’ve prepared for this question, along with dozens of others that probe the legitimacy of my business operations. “Wehave diversified locations, established management teams, and conservative expansion policies. We focus on sustainability rather than aggressive growth that creates vulnerabilities.”
The conversation continues for two hours, covering everything from operational procedures to exit strategies. These men know nothing about money laundering or territorial disputes, but they recognize profitable ventures when presented properly. Their investment capital could provide the foundation for a completely legitimate future.
After they leave with promises to review the proposals, I remain in the conference room studying Charleston’s skyline through expansive windows. The transformation from criminal enterprise to legitimate business requires patience and careful execution, but each meeting like this one moves me closer to the life I want to build with Willa.
My phone buzzes with a text from Timur:Need to discuss security upgrades. Can you meet at the warehouse in an hour?
The message carries undertones of urgency that make my jaw clench with familiar tension. Every day brings new tests from Mikhail’s campaign of harassment, each one requiring resources and attention that could otherwise focus on building our future.
The drive to the warehouse passes through neighborhoods where my influence extends into every business, every street corner, and every decision that affects people’s daily lives. Walking away from this network of control and profit won’t be simple, but the alternative is raising seven children in a world where violence lurks behind everything.
Timur waits beside his car when I arrive, looking grim. He hands me a manila folder thick with surveillance photos andintelligence reports. “Mikhail’s people have been conducting reconnaissance on the estate perimeter. Professional-grade surveillance they’re trying to hide, not the casual observation they did blatantly to make us nervous that we’ve dealt with previously.”
I flip through images that show unfamiliar faces positioned at strategic points around my home. The systematic nature of their positioning suggests coordinated planning rather than random harassment. “How long has this been going on?”
“At least a week and possibly longer. We’ve identified three separate teams working in shifts to maintain continuous observation.” He points to specific photographs that show equipment and positioning. “This isn’t preparation for psychological warfare but for direct action.”
The implications make my chest constrict with protective fury. Mikhail is escalating beyond property destruction toward active threats against the woman carrying my children. The timeline for ending this conflict has suddenly shortened from months to weeks, and possibly even days. “Recommendations?”
“Double the security around the estate immediately. Install additional surveillance equipment, increase patrol frequencies, and implement counter-surveillance protocols to disrupt their intelligence gathering. We also need to consider relocating Willa to a more secure location until this situation is resolved.”
The suggestion of moving her again makes me shake my head automatically. “She’s finally settling into life at the estate. Moving her to another unfamiliar location would create more stress during a high-risk pregnancy.”
“Da, but stress is preferable to kidnapping or assassination attempts.”
His blunt assessment cuts through my emotional resistance to acknowledge the practical realities we’re facing. Mikhail’s escalation threatens more than just property or business operations. He’s preparing to target the only thing that could break my will to fight.
“Implement all security upgrades immediately. Install whatever equipment is necessary and hire additional personnel, but I want the changes to be as unobtrusive as possible.” I close the folder and hand it back to him. “Willa doesn’t need additional anxiety about threats she can’t control. We’ll maintain the possibility of a fallback location, but it’s a Plan L right now.” L meaning Last Resort, which he understands.
“Understood. What about the business transition planning? Should we accelerate the timeline for transferring operations?”
The question forces me to confront competing priorities that seem impossible to balance. Protecting Willa requires my complete attention, but securing our long-term future demands continued focus on legitimate business development. “Continue with the current timeline but prioritize anything that moves money out of vulnerable operations.”
Timur nods, though I catch the concern in his expression. “Did the potential partners from this morning’s meeting seemed receptive to your proposals?”
“Yes. Wellington, in particular, will likely invest, and the others are considering smaller partnerships. It’s progress, but not fast enough to eliminate our dependence on existing revenue streams without major downsizing, which I’m open to doingif it gets me out faster, but not if I can’t afford to maintain security during the transition and beyond.” I walk toward my car, already mentally reviewing the security modifications that need to happen before evening. “Keep me informed about any changes in Mikhail’s surveillance patterns.” He nods as I slide in behind the wheel.
The drive back to the estate takes me through Charleston’s historic district, where tourists walk freely without considering the hidden networks of power and violence that shape their peaceful afternoon. In a few months, I want to be one of those civilians, concerned with legitimate business challenges rather than territorial wars and assassination attempts.
When I reach home, additional security vehicles are already positioning themselves around the property perimeter. The modifications happen quietly, but Willa will surely notice the increased presence and ask questions I’d prefer not to answer. She’s not blind.
I find her in our home theater, curled up on the massive leather sofa with a bowl of popcorn and a romantic comedy playing on the screen. The domestic scene should be relaxing, but I study her posture for signs of the unhappiness that’s been lurking beneath her recent improvement in mood.
“How was your meeting?” She pauses the movie and makes room for me beside her, though something in her expression suggests the question carries more than just casual interest.
I steal a handful of popcorn and much a piece before answering. “Productive. Three potential partners are considering significant investments in the restaurant chain, which would help accelerate our transition timeline.” I settle beside her and pullher close, appreciating the familiar warmth of her body against mine. “How are you feeling?”
“Physically, much better. The nausea has mostly passed, and I have more energy during the day, though still some trouble breathing at times.” She rests her head against my shoulder but doesn’t relax completely. “Emotionally, I’m struggling with some things.”