Page 54 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

The next morning, we gather in Kiril’s office. A secure line connects us to Viktor and his team in Naples, giving us play by play updates on what’s happening. Everyone is frozen in anticipation, our nerves overtaking the room like thick smoke.

Viktor’s voice crackles over the line. “Team in position. Target is leaving for school drop-off.”

I grip the edge of the desk, my mouth dry. My hands are so sweaty that they keep slipping from the wood, but I keep clawing at it, trying to stabilize myself for what’s to come.

Kiril places a reassuring hand on my back. “Proceed,” he commands.

The next few minutes are agonizing as we listen to the team’s coded communications. Finally, Viktor’s voice returns. “Package secure. En route to extraction point.”

Kiril and I exchange a look of relief. Phase one is complete. Now comes the delicate task of bringing Isabella and Tony to New York without alerting Damiano or anyone else.

As the team makes their way to a private airfield, I wonder about the consequences of our actions. We’ve just turned a child’s world upside down, but as I look at Kiril, I remind myself why we’re doing this. For family. For survival. For our future.

23

Kiril

Istand on the tarmac, watching the private jet taxi toward us. The wind whips my hair, and I brush it off my forehead absently, mainly focusing on the task at hand. As the plane comes to a stop, I signal my team to approach.

The door opens, and Isabella Valanza emerges first, her dark eyes wide with fear. She clutches Tony’s hand tightly as they descend the stairs. The boy looks around with curiosity, seemingly oblivious to the tension surrounding us.

“Welcome to New York,” I say, keeping my voice even as I step close enough for her to see me. “I’m Kiril Pimaslov. You’re safe now.”

Isabella nods stiffly. “Thank you for your... hospitality.”

I notice her hesitation and try to soften my expression. “I understand this is difficult. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

Tony tugs on his mother’s hand. “Mama, when can we go in the plane again?”

Despite the situation, I smile at the boy’s enthusiasm. “Do you like airplanes, Tony?” I ask, looking down at him.

He nods vigorously as he cranes his neck to see me. “I want to be a pilot when I grow up.”

“That’s a great dream,” I say, crouching down to his level. “Maybe we can arrange for you to see the cockpit sometime.”

Tony’s face lights up. “Really? Can we, Mama?”

Isabella’s grip on her son’s hand loosens slightly. “We’ll see.”

I stand up and gesture toward the waiting SUV. “Let’s get you settled in. We have a secure wing prepared for you in our penthouse with everything you might need.”

As we walk to the vehicle, Isabella seems to be relaxing slightly. Tony’s carefree chatter inevitably eases some of the tension. I help them into the car, then slide in beside them. “I know this is a lot to take in,” I say as we pull away from the airstrip, “But you’re under my protection now. No harm will come to you or Tony.”

Isabella meets my gaze. “Why are you doing this? We’re nothing to you.”

I consider my words carefully. “You’re family, and family protects its own.”

She scoffs. “Family? Is that what you do for family? Kidnapping us and bringing us to a foreign country?”

“I understand your anger,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “This was necessary for your safety. Damiano failed to?—”

“Don’t speak his name,” Isabella hisses, her expression revealing a flash of fury. “He’s done everything he could to keep us safe.”

I nod. “I apologize. The situation in Naples was becoming too dangerous. We couldn’t risk your lives any longer.”

Tony looks between us, confusion evident on his face. “Mama, why are you mad? Is this a vacation?”

Isabella’s expression softens as she turns to her son. “No, my love. We’re staying with some new friends for a while.”

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