Page 51 of The Mafia King's Baby

“We meet with Moretti and try to find a way out of this mess that doesn’t involve prison or graves.”

“And after that?”

He’s quiet for so long that I think he’s fallen asleep. Then he speaks, his voice carrying more vulnerability than I’ve ever heard from him. “After that, if we’re lucky, we figure out how to build something real together that isn’t just about survival or circumstances.”

“Is that possible in your world?”

“I don’t know, but I want to find out.”

I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my ear. Tomorrow we’ll enter Washington DC, a city full of people who want us dead or imprisoned, but tonight, I’m inlove with a dangerous man who loves me in return, and for now, that feels like enough.

Even if it terrifies me more than anything else I’ve faced so far.

18

Yefrem

The hotel in D.C. is even worse than the one we stayed at on the road. Thin walls, suspicious stains on the carpet, and the kind of clientele that minds their own business because they have too many secrets to risk asking questions. Perfect for our purposes.

I check the room while Celia sits on the edge of the bed and Leonid sweeps for electronic surveillance. Old habits from years of assuming every space is compromised until proven otherwise. The room is clean of bugs, but I still position myself where I can see both the door and the window.

“Moretti agreed to meet,” Leonid says while packing away his detection equipment. “Tomorrow afternoon. Meridian Hill Park, near the statue of Dante. He’s nervous about being seen with you, but he’ll come.”

“He should be nervous.” Celia looks up from the intelligence report she’s been reading. “What you have on him would destroy his career and his marriage.”

“That’s the point of leverage.” I sit beside her on the bed and note the pages she’s studying. Financial records, mostly, tracing payments between various accounts. “Understanding something?”

She sets the papers aside and looks at me with troubled eyes. “More than I want to. The scope of this is enormous, isn’t it? It’s not just Lang or even just the Belovs. It’s dozens of people, millions of dollars, and corruption that goes all the way up the federal food chain.”

The same realization has been keeping me awake for the past two nights. What started as a simple power struggle with one corrupt agent has revealed a network of criminal activity that makes my own organization look modest by comparison.

“Which is why we need information from Moretti. He’s worked with these people, taken their money, and helped them navigate the system.” I stand and walk to the window while checking the street below out of habit. “He knows who’s dirty and who’s clean, who can be trusted, and who needs to be eliminated.”

Celia repeats the word quietly. “Eliminated. You mean killed.”

“I mean neutralized. Sometimes, that requires killing, and sometimes, it requires other forms of persuasion.”

“What other forms?” she asks.

I turn away from the window to face her directly. “Blackmail, bribery, or threats against family members. It could also mean threat of or full exposure of criminal activity to honest agents, who will pursue prosecution.” I sit back down beside her. “Killing is efficient but messy. It draws attention and creates complications. It’s better to find leverage that keeps people cooperative and quiet.”

“Like what you have on Moretti,” she says.

“Exactly like what I have on Moretti.”

Leonid leans against the wall, arms crossed. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Simple surveillance to start. I meet with Moretti alone while you two maintain overwatch from separate positions.” I pull out a map of the park and spread it on the small table. “Celia stays in the car with communication equipment. You position yourself here with long-range support.” I tap the spot.

Leonid points to a spot that offers better sightlines to the meeting location. “I should be closer.”

I shake my head. “That’s too exposed. If this goes bad, I need you in a position to extract us quickly, not pinned down by hostile forces.”

We spend the next hour reviewing contingency plans, escape routes, and communication protocols. The detailed preparation might seem excessive for a simple conversation, but such steps have kept us alive through dozens of similar meetings over the years.

Celia asks, “What if Moretti doesn’t show?”

“He’ll show. He’s too scared not to.” I fold the map and return it to my jacket pocket. “Men like Moretti survive by avoiding confrontation, not by creating it. He knows that refusing to meet with me creates more problems than it solves.”

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