“What about the twins, sir?” Mario asks. “What would you like me to do about them?”
“They can stay downstairs with the other children, so long as they’re keeping out of trouble and are not doing Aleksandra’s bidding. The minute you see them trying to lift a cell phone or sneak out of the room, you send them upstairs with her at once.”
My children have no idea what’s going on. They’re young and innocent, and I intend to keep it that way.
But it worries me, leaving them alone, unattended with the other mafia players. Whether they’re dons, wives, or children, I’m not too fond of the thought that I can’t watch over my kids.
Mario drags me up the stairs, escorting me to the third floor, leaving Sophia and Liam in the living room with the other children, oblivious to what’s happening around them.
“Please, I want to be with my children,” I beg Mario.
He rolls his eyes and unlocks the door to my bedroom on the third floor. “Get in,” he orders. “If you behave, Antonio might let you out when he returns.”