Page 57 of The Mafia's Quintuplets
"That's already arranged." She checks her watch. "We need to go now. The servant corridors will take us to the garage without passing the main security checkpoints."
I hesitate, glancing around the room one last time. Despite my determination to leave, this departure feels rushed and unfinished. "Shouldn't we at least leave a note?"
"Not necessary." Her expression turns enigmatic. "Mak knows."
This revelation stuns me more than anything else. "He's letting us go? Just like that?"
"It's complicated." She takes my suitcase, gesturing for me to follow. "I'll explain on the way."
The servant corridors are narrow and dimly lit, clearly designed for household staff to move through the mansion unobtrusively. Zina navigates them with easily, suggesting she's used these passages before. The staff quarters we pass are silent at this early hour, though the kitchen already shows signs of activity as the day's first meals are prepared.
"I used to explore these passages as a child," she whispers as we descend a narrow staircase. "Mak would get so angry when he couldn't find me, until he realized I was mapping escape routes. Then he helped me identify the ones that bypassed security."
The comment reveals yet another layer to the complicated relationship between the siblings. Mak was simultaneously protecting his sister while preparing her for independence he likely never expected her to claim.
We emerge into the garage, where an unmarked sedan waits. It’s not one of the usual Vorobev fleet vehicles with their bulletproof glass and reinforced doors, but something inconspicuous that wouldn't draw attention on regular roads. It seems like something the servants might drive to run errands.
Most surprising of all is Leonid, Mak's most trusted lieutenant, who steps forward to take our bags and load them into the trunk. His presence confuses me even further. If anyone represents Mak's authority within the organization, it's this stoic, efficient man, who never leaves his side.
"Everything is prepared," he tells Zina, his typically impassive face betraying unusual concern. "The coastal property is secured and stocked. We couldn’t arrange for Dr. Philips, since it might be too conspicuous, but I found a new specialist. Dr. Wilson will arrive weekly for medical checks. I’ve sent you the files about him, including his photo, so you don’t let in the wrong person. The satellite phone is programmed with emergency contacts only."
"Thank you, Leonid." She squeezes his arm with familiar affection. "Any changes to the timeline?"
A shadow crosses his face. "Accelerated. The Kazanov situation required an immediate response."
Zina nods as if this cryptic exchange makes perfect sense. "Be careful. All of you."
I look between them, trying to make sense of this unexpected alliance. "I don't understand. Why are you helping us leave?"
Leonid turns to me, his expression softening marginally. "My loyalty has always been to the Vorobev siblings personally, not to the organization. I've watched over them since they were children. Their father trusted me with their safety above all else."
"Mak arranged this," says Zina, guiding me toward the car. "After what happened yesterday, he realized he couldn't keep you safe here while also dealing with the threats against you."
The pieces slowly connect in my mind. " When he said he'd burn it all down…"
"He meant it." Leonid opens the car door for me. "What my employer is attempting has never been done before. There will be resistance. Violent resistance. The estate will become a target."
"What exactly is he planning?" The question seems important, though I'm not sure why. I've made my decision to leave, regardless of Mak's intentions.
Leonid and Zina exchange a look loaded with meaning I can't interpret.
"It's better if you don't know the details," she says finally. "For your own safety and the babies'. Plausible deniability matters in the world we're leaving behind."
He checks his watch. "You need to leave now to reach the checkpoint before the shift change. The route is clear for the next thirty minutes only."
Four men emerge from a side door, taking positions in two additional vehicles—one that will drive ahead and another that will follow. Unlike Mak's usual security detail with their obvious earpieces and bulky jackets concealing weapons, these men are dressed casually, their protection disguised as ordinary travel companions. I don’t recognize any of them and realize I’m slightly sad not to be able to tell Orlov goodbye. He’s the talkative one of my two guards, which means he says roughly twenty words per day instead of Yakov’s one or two.
"These men—Yuri, Anton, Boris, and Gorba—will escort you to the safehouse," says Leonid. "They answer only to me and to Mak directly, and no one else in the organization. They'll remain with you as long as necessary."
The implications of this arrangement aren't lost on me. Mak doesn't trust his own security structure with our safety. The thought should terrify me, but instead, it reinforces the rightness of my decision to leave.
"Fedor?" Zina asks quietly.
"Under observation." Leonid's expression hardens. "He remains... problematic."
I remember the cousin Mak mentioned occasionally, the ambitious family member whose loyalty seemed increasingly questionable. I’ve yet to meet him, having the sense he didn’t want to meet me, or maybe, it was Mak shielding me all along. It’s another piece of the complicated puzzle I'm leaving behind.
As we settle into the backseat of the sedan while Anton settles behind the wheel, Zina takes my hand. "It's going to be okay, Wil. The coastal property is beautiful, and completely off the grid. No one knows about it except Mak, Leonid, and now us."
