Chapter 5 - The Devil’s Bargain
The kitchen knife slipped from Marco's lifeless hands as he collapsed to the floor. Viktor, the Bratva underboss, stood over the body, wiping his blade with a silk handkerchief. He was surrounded by six heavily armed Russian mercenaries, their rifles aimed directly at us.
Matteo tried to raise his gun, but his body finally gave out. He fell onto his side, gasping for air, his hand still desperately reaching out toward Theo and me.
"Do not... touch them..." Matteo choked out, dark blood pooling beneath him.
Viktor ignored him, stepping over Matteo’s bleeding form and approaching me. I backed into the steel bunker, tightly hugging Theo against my chest. My mind raced, searching for any weapon, any escape, but we were completely cornered.
"Mara Vieri," Viktor said, his Russian accent thick and melodious, like a velvet glove hiding a iron fist. "The beautiful ghost. For six years, the entire criminal underworld believed you were dust. And yet, here you are, having successfully hidden the greatest prize in Europe."
He reached out a gloved hand to touch Theo's dark curls. I snapped forward, biting his hand through the leather as hard as I could.
Viktor hissed, pulling his hand back, but instead of getting angry, he laughed. A deep, amused sound. "Ah, the lioness protects her cub. I respect that. But let us be practical, Mrs. Vieri. Look at your husband. He is dying. Even if my men do not shoot him, he will bleed to death in less than ten minutes."
"Please," I sobbed, the pride stripped away, leaving only a terrified mother. "Take whatever you want. Take the money, take the territory. Just leave my son alone."
"I am taking the territory, Mara. But to keep it, I need legitimacy. The Vieri soldiers will never follow a Russian boss... unless that Russian boss is the regent for the rightful Vieri heir." Viktor knelt down, looking at Theo, who was staring back at him with fierce, unblinking gray eyes. The boy wasn't crying anymore. The Vieri blood in his veins was taking over; he was staring at his captor with pure, icy defiance.
"He has his father's spine," Viktor noted, impressed. He looked back up at me. "Here is my proposition, Mara. Come with me. Allow me to adopt your son. He will be raised as the prince of both the Vieri and the Bratva empires. He will have everything—wealth, power, security. In exchange, I will call my personal medical team right now. They are outside in the helicopter. They can save Matteo's life."
My breath hitched. "You... you would save Matteo?"
"If you come willingly, yes," Viktor smiled, an evil, calculating expression. "Matteo will live, but he will be forced to sign over everything to the boy, with me as the guardian. If you refuse... I kill Matteo right now, I take the boy by force, and I leave your body to sink into the ocean with this house. Choose, Mara. The life of your husband, or the freedom of your son."
I looked down at Matteo. His eyes were fading, rolling back into his head. He was dying. The man who had spent six years mourning me, the man who had instantly thrown himself into gunfire to shield our son, was slipping away.
"Don't... do it, Mara..." Matteo whispered, his voice barely an audible breath. "Don't give him... our boy..."
I looked at Theo. "Mama?" he whispered, his small hand gripping my uniform. "Are we going with the bad man?"
I closed my eyes, a single tear falling down my cheek. I had spent six years running from the mafia, only to walk right into its jaws to save the man I loved.
"I’ll go with you," I whispered to Viktor. "Save him. Save Matteo, and I will give you whatever you want."
Viktor smiled warmly, stepping back and gesturing to his men. "An excellent choice. Call the medics. Secure the boy."
Two large mercenaries stepped forward, tearing Theo from my arms. Theo began to scream, kicking and crying for me. "Mama! Mama! Help me!"
"Theo!" I screamed, but Viktor grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the exit.
May you like
As they dragged us out of the crumbling estate, I looked back one last time at Matteo. The medics were already descending upon him, pumping adrenaline into his chest. His gray eyes locked onto mine through the smoke, a look of profound, terrifying promise burning within them. He was alive. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that he would tear the earth apart to get us back.
Hook / Cliffhanger: Three days later, we were locked inside a high-rise penthouse in New York City. Viktor walked into our room, holding a newspaper. He dropped it on my lap. The headline read: MAFIA DON MATTEO VIERI PRONOUNCED DEAD AFTER FORTRESS EXPLOSION. My heart shattered—Viktor had lied to me; Matteo was dead. But as Viktor turned his back, Theo pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket that he had found hidden inside his morning milk carton. It was written in elegant, familiar handwriting: I am coming for you, my queen. Look out the window at midnight.
