Page 46 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

“We had love between us and a mutual respect. That’s what it’s going to take for you to stay in the heart of my daughter. I want you to take care of her. Promise me that. Not just keep hersafe but take care of her heart. She’s carrying your child. I can’t protect her now, and nor can her father.”

I let her words soak in, the heavy weight of our marriage not lost on me. “I will.” I take Fiona’s mother’s hands in my own giving her my word, because both Fiona and I share the same trait—loyalty.

“Good. She’s got you now, but don’t forget she comes from a Marino bloodline.”

“I won’t forget.”

I whistle as Fiona returns from her bathroom break, giggling with her friends. Andrei approaches, clapping me on the back.

“How’s it going? You look like you’ve been handed your ass by the old lady,” he correctly observes.

Smirking, I drop my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, I guess I was, but I would do the same thing if I were her,” I say thoughtfully. “Did you set up that account with everything in it? For Fiona?” I ask.

“Yes. I set it up. Does she know yet?”

“No, she doesn’t. I’ll tell her in good time.”

“Alright. It’s a nice little nest egg. Are you sure you want her to know?” Andrei presses, as I look him dead in the eye, irritated with his question. His hands fly up. “My bad. I’ll stay out of it. We got what we wanted, and boy is there a lot to unpack in that.”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yes, and don’t I know it. Personally, I think Fiona and I are going to have a very long and successful partnership together.”

Andrei claps me on the back a couple of more times. “Me too. Me too. You’ve made a smart move not only yourself but for the whole Bratva family. Your father would be proud of you.”

I imagine he would be, but as much as I wanted Fiona to marry me, I want her to be able to make her own choices as well. What I’ve organized for her is going to give her that option. My jaw ticks as I think it over.Yes. It’s the right thing to do.

I smile, watching Fiona from the sidelines, laughing with her girlfriends, taking selfies and being free. God, I’m a lucky man. She catches me watching her, immediately summoning me over as I join in taking photos and meeting her friends.

Secretly, I can’t wait for the festivities to be over, and a touch before midnight, I get my wish, driving Fiona back to the estate, giving her something to look forward to as I drop my hand onto her thigh.

“When you have the baby and you’re feeling more like yourself, we can take a trip—a belated honeymoon if you want. What do you think?”

“That sounds brilliant, but maybe it might be a while.”

“It might, but anytime you want, we can organize it. Say the word,” I tell her.

“I’m fine at the estate for now. I’ve got the baby coming anyway, and a nursery to paint. I’m looking forward to it.” And this time, I hear the excitement in her voice, thinking I must be paranoid about her not being happy with our arrangement.

I narrow my eyes, letting my hand slide up to the wedding garter I know she still has on.

“Ah, there it is. We didn’t get time to play that game at the wedding. I look forward to taking this off later.”

Fiona grins, winking at me as we reach the estate, the cup of passion threatening to run over. “Hmm, I look forward to it too, and to getting all these pins and hairspray out.” She wrinkles her nose, starting to take down the hairpins, her long tresses falling from their curls one by one.

“God, you’re so beautiful. And I’m sorry, but most of the day I’ve wanted to get you home. To my bed—our bed. Not your suite.”

“Ooo, not that suite. So now I’m sleeping in your room.”

“Not my room, our room—together. We are husband and wife, and I want to wake up next to you in the mornings.”

“Oh, you do? Every morning? Even if I hog the covers?”

“Yes. Even if you hog the covers.” I laugh as we get out, kissing and scrambling to the door, both nicely delighted from the reception, and unable to keep our flurry of hands off one another.

“Let’s shower together,” Fiona suggests. “As much as I love this dress, I want to get out of it and into something else,” she says as I lead her to my wing of the house, and our room together.

It’s not a surprise. She has seen it, but as she stands in front of me in her shimmering wedding dress, I bite my lower lip. “I want you out of that dress. The only time I want to see it tonight is if it’s on the floor.”

“Mm-hmm, well, you’re going to have to meet me in the shower,” she teases, starting to unzip the back of her dress. I watch it fall away, helping her take the rest of her hair down until there are no more pins, only a cascade of curls. Wrapping my hands around her from the back, I cradle the growing bundle of life in her belly.

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