Page 50 of The Mafia's Quintuplets

"Indeed." He sips the scotch, leaning against the bookshelf casually. "The estate has quite the domestic atmosphere lately. Almost cozy."

I continue reviewing security protocols for the upcoming shipment, refusing to engage with his transparent attempts at provocation.

"Mrs. Petrova is practically glowing with approval, and Zina seems quite attached to your nurse." He swirls the amber liquid in his glass. "One big happy family."

"Did you need something specific, Fedor? I have work to complete."

His expression hardens slightly at my dismissal. "The Kazanov family is testing our eastern borders again. Three of our distributors reported contact attempts last week." He refills his glass without permission. "The Colombians are questioning our distribution arrangements for the summer shipments. They're sensing weakness."

"They'll find none." I sign off on the security protocols, setting them aside. "Handle the Kazanovs with the usual warning. I'll speak with the Colombian representative myself."

"This isn't the time for family picnics, Mak." His voice takes on an edge. "Our rivals are watching for any sign of distraction. Your...domestic situation provides an obvious target."

"My personal life is not your concern."

"It becomes my concern when it affects the organization." He pushes away from the bookshelf, moving closer to my desk with a boldness that would have earned another man a bullet. "The woman is a liability. She makes you weaker when you need to project strength."

I continue working, refusing to show the anger building beneath my calm exterior. "You overstep, cousin."

"Do I?" He places his hands on my desk, leaning forward. "Our enemies are more volatile than ever. The power balance is shifting weekly, and you've placed your pregnant woman and unborn children right in the crosshairs by keeping them here."

This observation hits closer to home than I care to admit. I've considered the danger and weighed the risks of keeping Wil at the estate versus sending her away to a more remote location, balancing the protection I can provide personally versus the safety of distance.

Fedor presses his advantage, sensing he's struck a nerve. "You're attempting a dangerous balancing act, Mak. The Vorobev empire requires your complete attention, not divided loyalties."

"I'm handling both."

"For now, perhaps." His voice drops, taking on a tone of false concern. "What happens when the babies arrive? With five infants demanding attention, and a new mother needing support, can you effectively lead while changing diapers?"

My fingers tighten around my pen, the only outward sign of my rapidly deteriorating patience.

"Perhaps," he suggests with careful precision, "It's time to consider whether someone else should take control while you enjoy your growing family."

The insinuation that I should step down for someone stronger, meaning Fedor himself, crosses the final line. In a blur of motion, I grab my cousin by the throat and slam him against the bookshelf, my other hand withdrawing the pistol from my shoulder holster and pressing it against his temple.

"The next time you suggest I'm not fit to lead," I say with deadly calm before pistol-whipping him across the face, "Will be your last day breathing."

Fedor stumbles backward, blood dripping from his split cheek. His eyes widen with a mixture of shock and fear. He's pushed before and tested boundaries but never experienced the full force of my violence directed at him personally.

I return to my desk, tucking the pistol back into its holster before resuming my paperwork as if nothing happened. "You're dismissed. Send Leonid in on your way out."

He leaves without another word, pressing a handkerchief to his bleeding face. Only when the door closes behind him do I allow myself to acknowledge the sweat in my palms. It’s not from fear or regret, but from restraint. The old Mak would have done worse than a pistol-whipping for such blatant insubordination, especially from family.

Privately, I know Fedor isn’t entirely wrong. Loving Wil openly is a risk. Having her and the children at the estate creates vulnerabilities my enemies will seek to exploit, but it's a risk I'm more than willing to take, though I must now watch my cousin more carefully than ever before.

When Leonid enters minutes later, I can tell by his careful neutrality that he's already aware of what transpired.

"Fedor will need watching," I say without preamble. "Discreetly."

Leonid nods, clearly unsurprised by the order. "Already arranged, sir."

"And increase security around Ms. Lamb and Zina. Assign additional men but maintain their distance. I don't want them feeling imprisoned."

"Of course." He hesitates briefly. "If I may, sir… Fedor won't forget this public humiliation. He's never been one to forgive perceived slights."

"I'm counting on it." I meet his gaze directly. "Let him make his move. I'd rather face the threat I can see coming than wonder where the knife will enter my back."

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