Page 94 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

“And then we end this. Permanently.”

Anton’s expression hardens. “No mercy.”

“No mercy,” I echo. “Nikolai had his chance and made his choice.”

“He’ll fight to the death.”

“Then that’s what he’ll get.”

Anton pushes away from the railing. “I should go. It’s late, and we both have work to do tomorrow.” He hesitates, then adds, “Thank you for your trust.”

“You’ve earned it many times over.”

He smiles slightly. “Still, not many men would do what you’re doing.”

“Not many men have what I have to lose.”

He nods, understanding completely. He turns to leave, then pauses at the door. “She’s changed you.”

“For the better?”

“Definitely for the better.” His smile widens. “The old Damir would have shot Casey on sight.”

“The old Damir didn’t have a pregnant wife to consider, but this version might still be tempted to shoot him on sight.” I hope Elena gives me permission to end his miserable life, because my trigger finger is already itching to do just that after I interrogate him.

We have to find him first.

“True.” Anton slides open the door. “Get some sleep, my friend. Tomorrow, we hunt.”

After he leaves, I remain on the balcony, watching the city. My city, for a little while longer before it becomes someone else’s problem. The thought should bother me more than it does. I’ve spent twenty years building this empire, fighting and killing and manipulating to create something that would outlast me. Now I’m walking away from it all for a woman and a child who isn’t even born yet.

I don’t regret it for a second.

I pick up my empty glass and Anton’s, carrying them inside to the kitchen. The penthouse is quiet as I move silently through the living room toward the bedroom, stopping at the doorway to look at Elena’s sleeping form.

She’s still curled on her side, one hand resting protectively over her stomach. Her dark hair spills across the pillow, and her face is relaxed in sleep, all the worry and stress of the day erased. This is what matters now. This woman, our child, and the future we’ll build together, far from Philadelphia and its dangers.

I undress quietly, slipping into bed beside her. She stirs slightly, murmuring something unintelligible before settling again. I place my hand over hers on her stomach, feeling the slight swell there that will soon become more pronounced.

My son. My heir. Not to an empire of crime, but to something better. Something I never had. A normal life, a family, and love. I close my eyes, allowing myself to imagine a house somewhere quiet, with Elena practicing medicine at a local hospital. I envision our son taking his first steps on grass instead of marble floors. No guards, no guns, and no constant vigilance.

Just us. Just peace.

It’s a fantasy I’ve never permitted myself before. A weakness I couldn’t afford. Now, it’s becoming a plan, with logistics and timelines and exit strategies, and I can’t wait to tell Elena.

Now, it’s becoming real.

27

Elena

Ifinish my rotation an hour early, surprising myself with my efficiency. The last patient had been straightforward, just a simple case of bronchitis that didn’t require extensive workup. I pull my phone from my pocket and text Valeriya and Fydor that I’m ready for pickup.

My phone buzzes almost immediately, but the number isn’t one I recognize. I read the message twice.

Regular team delayed. Replacement driver sent. ETA 5 minutes. –Security

Something about the message makes me pause. The wording seems off. Damir’s security team never refers to themselves as “Security” in texts. They always use names or code phrases we’ve established. I start to type a response when Dr. Patel’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

---