Through the reinforced walls, I heard the explosion.
Massive. Devastating. The entire living room was obliterated by fire and shrapnel. Windows blew outward, walls cracked, and the ceiling partially collapsed.
Twenty-foot radius, the scanner had said.
If Valentina had been holding those flowers when it detonated, she and our babies would have been vaporized.
The thought made my knees weak.
When the smoke cleared, and we emerged from the panic room, the safe house was destroyed. Burn marks on walls. Furniture in splinters. The crystal vase became shrapnel embedded in drywall.
Valentina stood in the doorway, both hands on her stomach, staring at the destruction with blank eyes.
"We need to leave," I said quietly. "Now. This location is compromised."
She nodded mechanically.
We evacuated within the hour and moved to a new safe house across the state.
Two attempts in eleven days. Each one supposedly more secure than the last. Each one proving inadequate.
The third attempt was poison in the groceries—ricin in the coffee grounds, undetectable until Domenico's team tested everything.
Three attempts in two weeks.
Each one closer than the last.
I found Valentina that night sitting in the dark, staring at nothing, both hands on her stomach.
"This is never going to end, is it?" Her voice was hollow, defeated. "Our children will grow up looking over their shoulders, never safe. Always running. Always afraid."
I sat beside her, pulled her against my chest. "No. It ends. One way or another, it ends."
"How? Marco won't stop. He'll hunt us until we're dead or he is."
"Then we make sure it's him."
She pulled back, studied my face. "What does that mean?"
I'd been wrestling with it for days. The offer Domenico had made quietly, carefully, during our last encrypted call.
"Domenico knows a contractor. Very good, very discreet. Could handle Marco permanently. Make it look like natural causes or an accident. Completely deniable. No connection to us."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You're talking about assassination."
"I'm talking about ending the threat permanently so our children can live without fear."
"By becoming murderers?"
"By protecting our family."
She was quiet for a long time, one hand absently rubbing her stomach where our twins grew.
Then: "No."
"Valentina—"
"No." Her voice was firm now, stronger. "You said it yourself weeks ago—we're better than that. We do this the legal way. Testify, put him away forever, then disappear into witness protection. We don't become the monsters we're fighting."
