Page 78 of The Mafia King's Baby

Car doors slam shut, and I strain to hear voices through the reinforced walls. They’re mostly male voices carrying authoritative tones and sound like they’re coordinating official actions rather than casual interactions.

“I think I see someone walking toward the entrance.” Leonid presses closer to the window. “I can’t make out details, but the body language looks familiar.”

My heart pounds so hard I wonder if the stress might hurt the baby. Everything about this pregnancy feels precarious already, between the morning sickness and the constant anxiety about our situation. The last thing I need is to add cardiac stress to the list of complications.

The sound of keys in the door lock sends adrenaline through my system like an electric shock. I step back from the window and position myself where I can see whoever enters first, though I’m not sure what I’ll do with that information.

The door opens, and two federal agents enter, scanning the room with professional alertness before stepping aside to allow someone else through.

Yefrem walks into the safehouse.

He doesn’t get dragged, carried, or restrained in handcuffs. He walks freely between the agents like someone being escorted rather than someone being arrested. The relief that floods through me is so intense I have to grab the back of a chair to keep from collapsing.

He sees me immediately, and the expression on his face mirrors what I’m feeling. Hours of uncertainty and fear dissolve into the simple reality that we’re both still here, still safe, and still capable of holding each other.

I cross the room faster than my tired legs should allow, and when his arms close around me, tension leaves both our bodies. He holds me against his chest with desperate intensity that suggests he wasn’t entirely certain he’d see me again either.

“It’s over.” His voice is rough with emotion as he speaks against my hair. “We’re free, or we will be.”

The words don’t immediately make sense. Freedom sounds like something that happens to other people, not to us. Freedom feels like a concept from another lifetime. “What do you mean?”

He pulls back enough to look into my eyes while his hands move to cup my face with the gentleness I’ve learned to associate with his most serious moments. “I made a deal. Complete immunity in exchange for everything we have on Lang’s network.”

“Complete immunity?” The phrase sounds too good to be true.

He nods, giving me a small smile. “We’ll get new identities for all of us, including your mother if she wants to relocate. The deal includes federal protection during the investigation, then we disappear into whatever life we choose to build.”

I process this information slowly because I’m afraid to believe it’s real. “They agreed to that?”

“Lipsey and Hendricks both signed off on the preliminary agreement. The evidence we collected is too valuable for them to ignore, and they understand that prosecuting me would mean protecting the same corrupt agents who tried to kill Patricia.”

“I told you, Celia.” With a smile, Leonid joins us while relief becomes evident in his posture as he clasps Yefrem on the shoulder. “How long until it’s finalized?”

“Seventy-two hours for them to verify our evidence and coordinate with appropriate authorities, and then formal arrangements for new identities and relocation begin.”

“And until then?” he asks.

Yefrem gestures toward his ankle, where I notice the monitoring device for the first time. “I’m under house arrest here while they process everything, but we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

I sink onto the couch because I’m suddenly exhausted as adrenaline fades and the reality of our situation settles in. “You really think this will work? That they’ll honor the agreement?”

“I think they understand we have information they need more than they need to prosecute me for defending myself and protecting innocent people.” He sits beside me while his hand moves automatically to rest on my stomach. “But more importantly, I have backup plans they don’t know about.”

“What kind of backup plans?”

He drops his voice lower, probably worried they’re monitoring us. They probably are. “New identities I arranged independently before we left Sandpoint, along with resources they can’t freeze or monitor, and escape routes that don’t depend on federal cooperation. I don’t fully trust the government to keep its word, so I’ve prepared alternatives.”

The admission doesn’t surprise me. Yefrem has survived this long by always having contingency plans and never depending entirely on other people’s promises. Even in cooperation withfederal authorities, he’s maintaining the kind of strategic thinking that’s kept us alive. “Do you really think our child will be safe?”

He nods sharply. “I think our child will grow up. Whether that happens through federal protection or through our own efforts doesn’t matter as long as the result is the same.”

I lean against his shoulder while drawing comfort from his solid presence and the steady rhythm of his breathing. “Tell me about the deal again. All the details.”

For the next hour, Yefrem walks us through his negotiation with Lipsey and Hendricks, explaining how he presented our evidence and what specific protections they’ve agreed to provide. The scope of Lang’s corruption network, the depth of documentation we’ve compiled, and the potential for saving other federal agents’ lives all contributed to their willingness to make a deal.

“Hendricks was the key.” He describes how the assistant director’s near-death experience influenced her perspective on who the real criminals are in this situation. “She understands I saved her life, and she’s not forgetting that when it comes to honoring our agreement.”

“And Lipsey?”

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