Chapter 6 - The Mafia Boss Who Became Their Father
We escaped to a safe house.
For the first time in days, there were no guards outside the nursery.
No alarms.
No gunfire.
Just silence.
I sat beside my daughters.
Elias entered carrying two bottles.
“You haven't slept.”
“Neither have you.”
He smiled faintly.
“I sleep badly.”
I laughed.
It was the first time I'd laughed in weeks.
He handed me a bottle.
One daughter woke.
Elias carefully picked her up.
She immediately grabbed his finger.
He froze.
“She likes you.”
“I've never held a baby before.”
“You're doing fine.”
He looked terrified.
I smiled.
“You look more afraid than when men point guns at you.”
“They can't shoot me.”
“Babies can.”
He laughed.
Something changed between us that night.
Elias wasn't just protecting my daughters anymore.
He was becoming attached to them.
Days passed.
Weeks.
The investigation continued.
Victor remained missing.
Nathan was still gone.
And then one morning, Elias came into the kitchen.
“I have something for you.”
He placed documents on the table.
“What are these?”
“A house.”
I stared.
“What?”
“It's yours.”
“I can't accept this.”
“You can.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve somewhere safe.”
I looked at him.
“I don't need a mansion.”
“It's not a mansion.”
“It has twelve bedrooms.”
He paused.
“Okay. It's a large house.”
I laughed.
Then he became serious.
“Ava, I know what your life was like.”
“I don't want pity.”
“I'm not offering pity.”
“What are you offering?”
He looked toward the nursery.
“A family.”
My heart stopped.
“Elias…”
“You don't have to marry me.”
“I wasn't thinking that.”
“I know.”
He smiled.
“I mean family.”
I looked at him.
“I don't know how to trust people anymore.”
“Then don't.”
“What?”
“Trust me slowly.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Months passed.
My daughters grew.
They laughed.
They crawled.
They began calling Elias something that made everyone in the house laugh.
“Papa.”
The first time one of them said it, Elias froze.
Then he walked outside.
I followed.
He stood beneath the balcony, staring at the city.
“You okay?”
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
“You're crying.”
“No.”
“You are.”
He wiped his face.
“Don't tell anyone.”
I smiled.
“I won't.”
For the first time in years, my daughters had something I'd thought they would never have.
A father who wanted them.
Not because they were heirs.
Not because they were valuable.
Because they were children.
But happiness never lasts forever.
Three months later, Nathan returned.
May you like
He arrived alone.
And he was bleeding.
