“Word travels fast in certain circles.” He pauses. “Sophia, I need to tell you something. I’ve been doing some digging since I recovered, trying to figure out who might still have it out for Mikhail. The Sicilians have been asking questions about you two. Lots of questions.”
Mikhail and I exchange a glance. “What kind of questions?” he asks.
“Your routines, your security, your businesses. They’re planning something big.” Tony’s voice drops lower. “I can help you disappear. New identities, new location, completely off the grid. I have contacts who specialize in this kind of thing.”
The offer hangs in the air between us. Running. Starting over. Again.
Mikhail has old contacts who could do the same, but I’m unsure.
I think about the life we’ve built here.
The legitimate businesses Mikhail has worked so hard to establish.
The home we’ve made together.
The future we’ve been planning.
And I think about the baby growing inside me.
“No,” I say firmly. “I won’t run again.”
“Sophia—” Tony starts, but I cut him off.
“Thank you for the offer, Tony. Really. But we’re not running anymore.”
After I end the call, Mikhail turns to me. “Are you sure about this? The Sicilians are not like the Bratva families. They don’t negotiate. They don’t forgive.”
“I know.” I stand and move to the window, looking out at the estate grounds. “But I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. I’m tired of wondering when the next threat will come. I want a normal life, Mikhail. A legitimate life.”
“We’re working on that?—”
“I want our child to have a different life. Not this constant danger. Not always looking over our shoulder. I want legitimate businesses, a normal home, a future that doesn’t involve bulletproof vests and armed guards.”
He pulls back slightly, his expression hardening. “That’s not possible. Not now. Not with the Sicilians coming for us.”
“It has to be possible.” I grip his shirt, feeling the solid muscle beneath. “How many times have I almost died already, Mikhail? How many more close calls before our luck runs out? And now we have our child to consider.”
“Which is exactly why we can’t go continue to be totally legitimate right now.” His voice is firm, the pakhan speaking. “We need the protection of the Bratva, the resources, the soldiers. Going legitimate made us vulnerable.”
“We were already vulnerable!” My voice rises despite my attempt to stay calm. “Lorenza proved that, and these photos are just more of the same thing. Another family knows where we live, where we go, who we care about. The Bratva didn’t protect us from pain and loss. Going back will just bring more of it.”
He releases me and turns away, running a hand through his dark hair.
He’s quiet for a long moment, his thumbs brushing across my knuckles.
I can see the war playing out behind his eyes.
The pakhan who has spent decades building his empire versus the man who just learned he’s going to be a father.
“It was different when I thought we were out of danger,” he says finally. “When Lorenzo was dead and we could breathe. But now there’s this new threat, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to fortify, to prepare for war.”
“I know.” I squeeze his hands. “But we can’t live our entire lives preparing for the next war. At some point, we have to choose peace.”
He studies my face for what feels like an eternity.
Then he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin with surprising gentleness. “I love you, Sophia. I love you and our unborn child more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. But right now, all I want to think about is you.
He lifts me easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he lays me down on top of his desk.
