Page 67 of The Bratva's Sextuplets
“This is about the trouble in Chicago?” Dmitri Volkov has been running intelligence operations for the MoscowBratvafor twenty years, and his network spans three continents.
“It’s about ending the trouble in Chicago permanently.” I flip through surveillance photos while we talk. “Avgar Federoff has escalated beyond what I can tolerate, and I want him and everyone connected to him eliminated before they can threaten my family again.”
“Family?” There’s surprise in Dmitri’s voice. “I heard you married the Lo Duca girl, but I didn’t realize it had become personal.”
“It’s personal.” I don’t elaborate on just how personal it’s become. “Can you deliver the intelligence or not?”
“Consider it done, but if you’re planning what I think you’re planning, you’ll need more than intelligence. You’ll need weapons, trustworthy personnel, and coordination that goes beyond what your Chicago operation can handle alone.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting if you want to eliminate the Federoffs completely, you let Moscow provide direct support. You won’t have much trouble garnering it, and Federoff has none here. He’s burned too many bridges. With our back-up, you can senda message to every family in America that attacking a Belsky has consequences that extend far beyond local retaliation.”
The offer is tempting, but accepting help from Moscow means owing favors that could complicate my plans to legitimize parts of theBratvaoperation. “I’ll consider it. Send me the intelligence first, and we’ll discuss additional support based on what we’re dealing with.”
After the call ends, I spend the next two hours reaching out to contacts in Detroit, Boston, and Miami, building a network of information and potential allies that will help me understand the full scope of the Federoff threat. Each conversation reinforces the same conclusion. Avgar is preparing for something big, and if I don’t act first, Zita and our children could be caught in the crossfire.
The sun is setting by the time I finish my calls and start reviewing architectural plans for property acquisitions. If we’re going to raise six children safely, the current safehouse arrangements won’t be sufficient. I need something more permanent, more secure, and more suited to the long-term needs of a large family.
The property I’m considering is a forty-acre estate in Lake Forest, far enough from the city to provide privacy and security, but close enough to maintain business operations and access to medical care. The main house has eight bedrooms, which will accommodate six children plus staff quarters. The grounds include space for a helicopter pad, secure perimeter fencing, and outbuildings that could house security personnel.
It’s the basement specifications that really interest me. The previous owner was a tech executive with paranoid tendencies, and he installed a state-of-the-art bunker system complete withindependent power, water, and air filtration. If we’re ever under siege, Zita and the children could survive down there for weeks.
My phone buzzes with a text from Dr. Kozlova confirming Zita’s appointment for next week and requesting additional security measures for the clinic. The reality of managing six high-risk pregnancies while maintaining operational security is beginning to sink in. Every doctor’s visit becomes a potential target opportunity. Every test result creates another piece of information that could be compromised.
I make a note to have Viktor arrange to move the clinic from the current Chicago house to build a private medical wing at the Lake Forest property, adding obstetrics and NICU facilities. If we’re going to do this safely, we need to control every variable, including who has access to Zita during her pregnancy and delivery, along with who cares for our children afterward. They’ll be safer in a NICU at our home, cared for by carefully screened workers. It’s an unorthodox arrangement, but I doubt we’ll have much trouble finding live-in staff with the kind of compensation I can offer.
The office door opens without a knock, which means it’s either Viktor with urgent intelligence or Zita, who’s the only person allowed to interrupt me without permission. I look up to see her in the doorway, wearing one of my shirts over leggings, her hand resting unconsciously on her still-flat stomach.
“You’ve been in here for eight hours.” She settles into the chair across from my desk. “What are you planning?”
“I’m planning to keep you and our children safe.” I close the property files and focus on her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, nauseated, and overwhelmed by the idea of carrying six babies for the next seven months.” Zita picks up one of the ultrasound photos. “That’s not why I’m here though. I can hear you on the phone through the door, and I know you’re organizing something that involves a lot of violence. I’ve learned enough Russian to pick out some phrases.”
“The Federoffs are planning to escalate their attacks.” I don’t see any point in hiding the intelligence from her. “If I don’t move first, they’ll come after us, possibly you, directly, especially if they find out about the pregnancy.”
“So, you’re going to start a war to end a war.” Zita’s voice is carefully neutral. “You’re going to kill everyone connected to them before they can threaten our family.”
“Yes.” There’s no point in softening the truth. “I’m going to eliminate every threat to you and our children, no matter how distant or indirect it might seem.”
“I understand the reasons, but what happens to the man I fell in love with while you’re eliminating threats?” She sets down the ultrasound photo and looks directly at me.
The question cuts straight to the heart of my internal conflict. “I’m choosing love over power by protecting the people I love over maintaining political relationships or alliances.”
“No, you’re choosing to become your father because you’re terrified of losing us.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “You’re deciding that love means eliminating every possible threat through violence, which is exactly what Nicky would have done.”
“If Nicky had found out an enemy’s wife was pregnant, especially with multiples, he would have used that woman and her children as weapons against his enemies.” My temper is rising, but I keepmy voice controlled. “I’m trying to protect you from becoming weapons to be used against me.”
“By turning yourself into one.” She stands and moves around the desk to where I’m sitting. “You’re letting fear drive you to make decisions that will fundamentally change who you are.”
“What would you have me do?” I turn to face her. “Let the Federoffs live and hope they don’t discover you’re pregnant? Wait for them to make the first move and risk them succeeding?”
“I’d have you make these decisions with me instead of for me.” She perches on the edge of my desk. “I’d have you remember our children need their father to be someone they can respect, not just someone who can protect them through fear.”
The criticism stings because I can hear the truth in it. “I don’t know how to do this any other way. I don’t know how to keep you safe without eliminating the people who want to hurt you.”
“I know. I agree they’ll only respond to violence. I just want you to keep me involved so I can help keep you focused on being the man I love instead of a clone of your father.” Zita takes my hands in hers. “We need to make a plan that doesn’t require you to become a monster to protect us from monsters.”
