Page 58 of The Mafia's Quintuplets

The car pulls out of the garage, following a service road that circumvents the main gate and its security checkpoint. Dawn is just breaking over the horizon, painting the sky in muted pinks and purples. I watch the estate recede in the distance, the imposing mansion growing smaller until it disappears around a bend in the road.

"How long has Mak been planning this?" I ask, still struggling to reconcile last night's emotional confrontation with this seemingly well-orchestrated departure.

She stares out the window, her profile reminiscent of her brother's in the soft morning light. "The safehouse has always existed as a contingency, but your leaving specifically? I think he's been preparing for it since you arrived."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother is many things, but he's not delusional." She turns to me with a sad smile. "He knew from the beginning that you might not be able to accept his world. That you might eventually need a way out. He's been preparing contingencies since the day he brought you to the estate."

The thought brings fresh pain. Even while building something with me, while sharing his bed and making plans for our children, Mak was simultaneously preparing for my inevitable departure. The realization speaks to a lifetime of loss and betrayal I can barely comprehend. "Are you sure you should come with me? He's your brother, Zina. You're all he has." The idea of him utterly alone breaks my heart.

"Not anymore." Her gaze drops meaningfully to my belly. "And Mak asked me to go with you, to help you, and to protect you if necessary. He knew you'd need someone you trust, and if I'm honest, I was always leaving. I was supposed to go to Oxford next month, but my heart wasn’t in it. I just wanted out. Helping you and them gives me purpose beyond escape."

I shake my head, still not understanding. "But he loves you more than anyone."

"Which is exactly why I agreed." Her expression turns fierce, suddenly reminding me powerfully of Mak. "Because I love him too, and right now, the best way to help him is to keep you and the babies safe while he does what he needs to do."

The car merges onto the highway, joining early morning commuter traffic heading away from the city. Our convoy maintains careful spacing—not close enough to be obviously connected, but within sight of each other. Anton and Yuri, in the passenger seat, remain silent, focused on their tasks with professional detachment.

As the city recedes behind us, I stare out the window with my hand pressed against the glass. My heart feels like it's been carved out of my chest, first with the loss of Gisele and now Mak. Whatever his flaws, whatever the danger his world represents to our children, the connection between us was real. The memory of him whispering promises against my belly last night, vowing to become someone worthy of being their father, brings fresh tears to my eyes.

The babies kick more vigorously than before, a chorus of tiny movements beneath my palm. I brush away tears, remembering I need to stay strong for them and for Zina, who has given up everything to join me in this uncertain new beginning. "How far is this safehouse?" I ask, trying to focus on practical matters rather than the ache in my chest.

"About three hours up the coast." She passes me a bottle of water from a small cooler at her feet. "It's completely isolated, with a private cove and a house overlooking the ocean. Beautiful, but nearly impossible to approach without being seen. The nearest town is small enough that strangers are noticed but large enough that we won't stand out too much with proper cover stories."

"Another fortress," I whisper, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"A temporary asylum," she corrects gently. "Until you decide what comes next."

The wording catches my attention. "You mean until we decide."

She shakes her head. "This is your journey, Wil. Your children and your future. I'm here to help, not to make decisions for you."

"But what about what you want?" I turn to face her fully. "You said you've been planning an escape for years."

A complicated emotion crosses her face. "Let's just say our temporary goals align. Beyond that...we'll see what happens."

The cryptic answer suggests layers of planning I'm not privy to, reinforcing my suspicion that Mak, Zina, and Leonid are engaged in something more complex than simply helping me leave.

"Will Mak join us there?" The question emerges before I can stop it, betraying a longing I've tried to suppress.

“There or somewhere…” Her expression turns guarded. "Eventually, if he can."

"If he can?"

She stares straight ahead, her profile suddenly reminding me painfully of her brother. "What Mak is attempting is dangerous, Wil. There are no guarantees."

The statement makes me suck in a breath. Despite my determination to leave, despite knowing our relationship is impossible as things stand, the thought of Mak in danger creates a surge of panic. "What exactly is he doing?"

"Creating a different future." She takes my hand, squeezing gently. "For all of us, if he succeeds."

Morning light spills across the highway as we travel north, the landscape gradually changing from dense suburbs to scattered towns and eventually open countryside. I rest my head against the window, exhaustion from the emotional turmoil of the past twenty-four hours finally catching up with me.

As sleep begins to claim me, I find myself wondering if this departure is truly an ending or merely a pause. Is it a necessary separation while Mak attempts whatever dangerous transformation he believes might make a future possible for us, or will it be permanent? The uncertainty should frighten me, but instead, it carries a strange comfort. For the first time since the attack, I consider maybe we can still have a future with Mak.

23

Mak

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