I’ve heard nothing from the Bratva. There have been no attempted rescue missions. Are they leaving Mikhail behind and assuming that he’s dead? Do they not care about my children or me?
Antonio is silent. “The test results will be back this afternoon.”
“Test results?”
“The DNA tests I had run comparing my sample to the children’s.”
I expel a heavy sigh. There’s no chance that the twins aren’t his. Antonio was the only man I’d been with that summer.
And I’ve run out of time stalling.
“What are you intending to do after you get the results?” I ask. I don’t see him as a warm father figure for Sophia and Liam. I’d settle with letting him send them presents and a card on their birthday, but I suspect he’ll demand more.
He avoids answering my question. “What do you intend on doing about your brother? He made it clear that you’re not welcome to return to his home. You’ve also heard the kids from different families. He’s responsible for the attacks on the other complexes.”
“You give him too much credit.”
“He orchestrated the attacks,” Antonio says. “Even if he didn’t physically abduct a child, he is responsible.”
“Just like you’re responsible for kidnapping Liam.” The vicious cycle continues. Will there ever be an end?
His jaw tightens. “And I regret that decision.”
“What about bringing me here against my will, with my children? Do you regret that too?”
He guides me farther down the hall, away from listening ears. We’re alone. I’m not the least bit afraid of Antonio, unlike when he first forced me into his vehicle at gunpoint. He hasn’t hurt me, not physically. And while I’m not happy to be here, he hasn’t harmed my children, either.
His hand is on the small of my back, and he stops just outside of his office door. He doesn’t lead me inside. Instead, he backs me up against the frosted glass door. The glass is cold and sends an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“I’m sorry that you didn’t have a choice in coming here,” Antonio says. His apology appears genuine. He’s not the least bit squirrelly or trying to weasel his way out with an excuse. “I wanted to keep you and your children safe.”
“And?”
There must be more than just protecting us. We barely knew one another.
“With the Hell brought down on the other mafia families, I needed a bargaining chip in case Mikhail decided to attack our complex.”
“You used me,” I say and fold my arms across my chest. “How did that work for you?”
“The bratva didn’t attack the complex, but I’m not sure they even knew that you were in our possession. Honestly, the whole operation was a fuck up from the beginning.” Antonio runs a hand through his hair.
I want to know what he means, but I don’t ask. I just wait and listen, hoping that he’ll expand on what he says.
“How did Mikhail know that our mafia family was flying into New York? They targeted the airport and attempted to obliterate one of the Italian’s private planes when it landed.”
“I don’t know. Nikita received a call with private orders, direct from Mikhail,” I say. “He was in a hurry and was going to make me late for picking up the twins from preschool.”
“Boss!” A gentleman wearing a white dress shirt rounds the corner of the hall, quite disheveled. On further inspection, there’s a smattering of blood on his sleeve.
Was he with Mikhail?
My mouth goes dry, and I want to hurry down the hall, run into the basement, and find out what the hell is going on.
Antonio steps back from me and turns to give the gentleman his undivided attention. “My office?” he suggests.
“Please,” the man says.
“We can continue this discussion later,” Antonio says to me.