Page 53 of The Mafia's Quintuplets

Mak hustles me toward his car, his arm like an iron band around my waist. "We need to leave now. Police will be here soon."

"Those people…" I try to look back at the injured bystanders, my nurse's instincts fighting through the shock.

"My men will handle it." He pushes me into the backseat, sliding in beside me and signaling his driver. "Go. Now."

As we speed away from the scene, blood drying tacky on my skin and clothes, reality crashes down with crushing weight. This is Mak's world. This is what he brings with him everywhere—violence, death, and collateral damage. The man I've been sharing a bed with, whose gentleness with me that seemed so at odds with his reputation, just executed someone in broad daylight without hesitation.

It's like he reads my thoughts. "I had no choice." Mak reaches for my hand, which I instinctively pull away. "He would have taken you and probably killed you eventually."

"Those people on the street had nothing to do with this." My voice sounds strangely disconnected from my body. "That woman was hit. She needs medical attention."

"My men will ensure she gets it." He tries again to touch me, his expression haunted. "Wil, please. I did what was necessary to protect you and our children."

That's precisely the problem. Violence is always the answer in Mak's world, and the only solution he knows. The blood drying on my skin, the image of the man's head exploding from Mak's bullet, and the terrified civilians caught in the crossfire… This is the reality he inhabits daily.

Tears begin to flow, hot tracks cutting through the blood spatter on my cheeks. "I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" His voice sharpens with apprehension.

"I can't have our children growing up around so much death and depravity." The words pour out through rising panic. "Surrounded by men whose first instinct is to reach for a gun. What kind of life is that? What kind of people will they become?"

Mak's face pales, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Wil?—"

"I won't raise them to think this is normal." I sob, my hands still protectively cradling my belly. "No matter what I feel for you, I have to protect them first."

He recoils slightly, his expression transforming to something I've never seen before—raw vulnerability and fear. "We can work this out." His voice drops to an urgent whisper. "I can change things and adapt. Send you somewhere safer?—"

"Somewhere your enemies won't find me?" I shake my head, tears flowing freely now. "There is no such place. You said it yourself. As long as they're your children, they'll be targets."

The car speeds through city streets, putting distance between us and the bloodbath we left behind. I stare at my blood-spattered hands, at the precious ultrasound images now stained crimson at the edges.

Mak watches me with growing desperation, likely sensing me slipping away. "Tell me what you want. Anything. I'll make it happen."

What I want is impossible. I want a normal life for my children, free from bulletproof cars and security details. Free from the constant threat of kidnapping or assassination. Free from the shadow of their father's empire built on blood and fear.

I close my eyes, unable to look at him as I make the hardest decision of my life. "I need to leave. To take our children somewhere they can grow up safe."

"There is nowhere safer than with me." His voice breaks on the last word.

"What happened today proves that's not true." I finally meet his gaze, letting him see the shattered trust in my eyes. "This is who you are, Mak. This is the world you've built, and I can't let our children be part of it."

We ride in agonized silence back to the estate, the gulf between us widening with each passing mile. My body still trembles with shock, with the horror of watching a man die inches from my face, and with the realization that the father of my children, the man I've begun to care for despite every rational objection, lives in a reality I can never accept for our children.

The ultrasound images in my lap show five perfect hearts beating in healthy rhythm, depending on me to make the right choice. No matter how much it hurts Mak and me.

21

Mak

"Iwon't raise them to think this is normal. No matter what I feel for you, I have to protect them first."

Wil's declaration destroys me more thoroughly than any business rival ever could. The words echo in my mind during the silent drive back to the estate, each syllable cutting deeper than any blade. My empire, my power, and my reputation are all suddenly meaningless against the prospect of losing her and the five lives she carries.

I watch her from the corner of my eye, her face turned toward the window, tears still tracking through the blood spatter on her cheeks. Her hands haven't left her belly since the attack, as if physically shielding our children from the violence they've already witnessed. The sight burns like acid in my chest.

Back at the estate, I insist on having Dr. Phillips examine her immediately. Wil doesn't protest, her nurse's training overriding her desire to escape me as she acknowledges the medical necessity after such trauma. I pace outside the medical suite while the examination takes place, ignoring Leonid's attempts to brief me on the aftermath of the attack.

Dr. Phillips emerges after twenty minutes, her expression professionally neutral. "Physically, she's unharmed. All five fetuses show normal heartbeats and activity, but she's experiencing acute stress reaction. The psychological impact shouldn't be underestimated."

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