Mafia Boss's Baby Won't Stop Crying On The Plane—Single Mom Does The Unthinkable

“Mommy?” Maya whimpered, pressing her small body entirely behind Clare’s back.

Richard looked at his daughter, his expression devoid of any paternal warmth. “Come here, Maya. Your mother has caused enough trouble. We’re leaving.”

Clare didn't lower the gun. Her hands were shaking violently, but her aim remained locked squarely on her ex-husband’s chest. The terrified, submissive woman Richard had controlled for five years was dead. Gabriel Salvatore had buried her, and in her place stood a fiercely protective mother.

“You are not touching her,” Clare said, her voice dropping into a cold, lethal register she didn't know she possessed. “And I am not going anywhere with you.”

Richard laughed, a cruel, dismissive sound. “You’re not going to shoot me, Clare. You don't have the stomach for it. You’re a nurse, remember? You save lives. You don't take them.”

He took a confident step forward, reaching out to grab the barrel of her gun.

He fundamentally misunderstood the woman standing before him.

Clare didn't look at Richard. She looked at the massive cartel soldier stepping into the room behind him, raising an assault rifle to clear the bunker.

Clare shifted her aim slightly to the right, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed concrete room. The recoil sent a shockwave up her arm, almost knocking the weapon from her grip.

The cartel soldier didn't even have time to scream. The bullet struck him squarely in the throat. He collapsed backward into the hallway, his rifle clattering uselessly to the floor in a spray of crimson.

Richard froze, his arrogant smile vanishing instantly, replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock. He stared at the bleeding body of the mercenary, then slowly turned his gaze back to his ex-wife.

Clare racked the slide of the 9mm, aiming it directly back at Richard’s face. She didn't blink.

“I said, you are not touching my daughter,” Clare repeated, her voice steady and terrifying.

Richard’s face twisted in pure, hateful rage. The illusion of control was shattered. He wasn't the master of this situation anymore. He raised his heavy revolver, leveling it directly at Clare’s chest, completely willing to murder the mother of his child to regain his power.