Page 72 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

Our future. The phrase makes me tremble. What kind of future can we possibly have? Valerian is a powerful crime boss, constantly in danger, and now I’m carrying his children—four tiny, vulnerable lives that will be targets from the moment they’re born.

I reach for my phone, desperate for a distraction. Maybe I’ll call the flower shop to see if they need any help. As my fingers brush the screen, I see I’ve missed a text message from my mom, who probably just got back to the shop a short time ago. It must have come while I was in the bathroom.

When I open it, I let out a small cry of dismay.

“Emergency with your dad. Come to the shop ASAP.”

My chest constricts when I read the words again, panic rising like a tidal wave. I dial my mother immediately, but the call goes straight to voicemail. “Mom, it’s me,” I say, my voice shaking. “What’s going on? Is Dad okay? Call me back as soon as you get this.”

I end the call and immediately try Valerian’s number, but it rings endlessly with no answer. My mind races with possibilities. Did something happen at the shop? Is my dad hurt? Or worse, did the Petrov Syndicate make a move against my family?

I stand up, my legs unsteady beneath me. I need to get to Bloom House and now, but how? Valerian’s security won’t let me leave without his permission, and he’s not answering his phone. Dread settles in the pit of my stomach when I glance towardthe front door, where Valerian’s men are stationed. I’ll have to convince them to let me go. Somehow.

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves while I approach Ivan and Sergei. They’re standing guard near the front door, just as I expected. “I need to go out,” I announce, forcing a smile onto my face. “Some retail therapy would do me good right now.”

Ivan’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “Miss Bennett, I’m not sure that’s wise. Mr. Rostova?—”

“Valerian hasn’t forbidden me from leaving,” I interrupt, my voice firmer than I feel. “He just said I shouldn’t go alone. You two can come with me, right?”

Sergei and Ivan exchange a glance, as if a silent conversation passes between them. Finally, Sergei nods. “Very well, Miss Bennett. We’ll accompany you.”

Relief washes over me as we make our way to the car. The sleek black SUV purrs to life, and I settle into the backseat, my thoughts spinning. As we pull away from Valerian’s mansion, I clear my throat. “Actually, could we stop by my parents’ shop first?”

Ivan’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “The flower shop? Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes,” I lie smoothly, hating how easily the deception comes. “I just forgot to give my mom something when she came for lunch.”

The car changes direction, heading toward Bloom House. With each passing mile, my anxiety grows. The text from my mother replays in my mind:“Emergency with your dad. Come to the shop ASAP.”

What could have happened? Is it the Petrov Syndicate? Or something more mundane, like a health scare, perhaps? The possibilities swirl in my head, making me dizzy.

As we approach the familiar storefront, I lean forward, straining to see any signs of disturbance. The “OPEN” sign is dark, which is unusual for this time of day. Dad would have been holding down the fort while Mom visited me, and the shop is usually open until four p.m. on Saturday afternoons. No movement is visible through the windows.

“Miss Bennett?” Ivan’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “We’ve arrived.”

I nod, my hand hovering over the door handle. I shiver while staring into the seemingly empty shop. Something isn’t right.

“Is something wrong?” asks Sergei, his hand moving subtly toward the weapon I know he carries.

I swallow hard, torn between the urge to rush inside and the need to protect these men who’ve been assigned to keep me safe. “Maybe nothing,” I whisper, more to myself than to them. “But maybe everything.”

I curl my fingers around the cool metal of the door handle and continue to search for any sign of life within Bloom House. The cheerful displays of flowers that usually greet customers are eerily still, with no hint of my mother’s bustling presence or my father’s steady movements.

As calmly as I can, I open the SUV door and slide out, still peering at the darkness inside the shop. I’m torn between fear of approaching and desperate need for answers.

“Miss Bennett?” Ivan prompts again, concern evident in his voice. He must be picking up on my tension.

I turn to face him, my pulse quickening. “I’m not sure what we’re walking into, but I need to check on my parents.”

Ivan’s eyes widen, and he reaches for my arm. “Miss Bennett, wait?—”

I’m already moving, and I reach the shop before them, though Sergei and Ivan are right behind me. I push open the door, and the familiar bell chimes overhead when I step inside. The scent of flowers hits me—roses, lilies, and carnations—but something’s off. There’s an underlying mustiness, like wilting petals left too long in stagnant water.

“Mom? Dad?” My voice reverberates in the empty shop. Silence answers.

I move farther in as my guards crowd behind me. They’ve fallen silent and seem on edge too. Either they sense something is amiss, or they’re just being cautious.

The displays are untouched, and vibrant blooms stand contrast with the somehow colorless stillness. A half-finished arrangement sits on the work counter, scissors abandoned mid-cut.

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