Page 92 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

Anton paces a few steps away, then back. “Why? Why now?”

I consider my answer carefully. “While I was out looking for Harris, I went to a baby store today.”

Anton blinks at the apparent non sequitur. “A what?”

“A baby store. One of those high-end places, where everything costs five times what it should.” I ease back against the railing. “I stood there looking at tiny clothes and furniture and these...devices I couldn’t even identify. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t calculating angles or assessing threats or planning my next move.”

“What were you doing?”

“Imagining. Anticipating.” I pause, searching for the right words. “I was thinking about what it would be like to bring my son home to a normal house. To push him on a swing. To teach him to ride a bike without looking over my shoulder for snipers.”

Anton’s expression softens. “Fatherhood changes men.”

“It’s changing me before he’s even born.” I straighten up. “I want him to have choices I never had. I want him to know his father as something other than a monster men fear.”

“You’re more than that, Damir.”

“To you, perhaps. To Elena, yes, but to the rest of the world?” I shake my head. “I’ve been what I needed to be to survive. Now, I need to be something else for my son to thrive.”

Anton is quiet for a long moment. “How do you plan to make this work? The feds are still investigating you, and Nikolai is still a threat. You can’t just disappear.”

“I’ve been planning this longer than you might think.” I move back to the railing, looking out at my city one last time. “The federal investigation can be managed. I have leverage on the agent leading the case and evidence that will redirect their attention to more pressing targets.”

“And Nikolai?”

“He dies.” The words are simple and final. “There’s no other way to ensure our safety.”

He nods, accepting this truth without question. “The logistics of your exit?”

“I’ve purchased property in five different countries under separate shell companies. Multiple escape routes if needed. I’ve transferred significant assets to untraceable accounts that require biometric authentication from both Elena and me to access.”

“Both of you?”

“Neither of us can access the funds without the other. It ensures we stay together and make decisions as a unit.”

Anton lets out a low whistle. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“I’ve had to.” I turn to face him. “The transition won’t be simple. There will be resistance, questions, and challenges to your authority.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can. That’s why I’m trusting you with this.”

Anton studies me. “And if I said no?”

“You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I give him a rare smile. “Because you’ve always wanted this. Not the way Nikolai did—through betrayal and blood. You wanted to earn it, and you have.”

Anton looks away, his profile sharp against the night sky. “What if I’m not ready?”

“You are. You’ve been ready for years. You just never wanted to take it from me.”

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he asks, “When?”

“After Nikolai is dealt with. We’ll need two to three months to transition smoothly. Any faster, and we risk chaos.”

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