Page 17 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

As we ascend to our office floors, Andrei and I keep the debate running. “No, if I have a wife and children—once I have them, I would keep them safe. They would rarely be seen.”

“What’s the fun in that?” I tell him, the elevator doors parting as we walk through to our offices.

“It’s not about fun,” Andrei continues, releasing a bored sigh and rolling his eyes.“It’s about shielding your family.”

“No. I would protect them and wouldn’t hide them away from the public. Now, Luca’s made it even worse for himself because the girl will become a target once the other mob families find out. Don’t you think?”

Pushing the glass door open to my office, we enter, and I flip on the light. “Yes. Once they catch on to the fact, Luca has a daughter, it’s going to open hunting season.”

“That’s my point.” I stop the debate as Mark enters with a crooked smirk on his face.

A quick beat thumps through my chest. “What is it?”

Mark waves a piece of paper in my face. “I have news.”

Chapter Eleven - Fiona

A small plastic strip has successfully decided the trajectory of my life, and as I step out of my bathroom, I’m having a hard time catching my breath. I hold on to the pregnancy strip willing it to change colors as I keep tossing the outcome back and forth in my brain.

No. It’s fake. It’s a drugstore pregnancy reveal. Once you go to the doctor, you’ll see that it’s not real. It can’t be real. Not with him.

I’ve been in this toxic thought cycle for the last few days and can’t shake it because there’s no way in hell it can true. Pacing back in forth in my apartment, I return to the bathroom, dropping both my hands over the sink, taking a hard look at myself in the mirror.

“What have you done?” I ask, beating myself up for several reasons.

I should have worn protection with the man. Rookie mistake. I shouldn’t have thought he was going to do it.

Your career and your life are ruined. You’re having a baby by a mobster.I don’t know if Ruslan is a mobster for certain, but I can only assume he’s after the files.The files. The files. The files.In one flash, and one hot night, my life has shattered into a thousand pieces, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

“You’re going to have a baby with a mobster, Fiona.What the fuck?” I lack the energy to brush the bird’s nest on top of my head into anything presentable. I look like a hot mess, and my limbs are sore from lying in bed.

Every time I’ve gotten a text from my friends, I’ve ignored it.

SOPHIA:Have you heard from your mystery man?

RACHAEL:Has he hunted you down yet? How’s work? Girl, we haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Are you hiding out in your apartment or something? Come out on the weekend!

I want a do-over, and if I could fling back the hands of time to the past, I wouldn’t exactly take back the dare, but I would have only kissed Ruslan, not taken it any further with him.

No, you wouldn’t, Fiona. If you knew Ruslan was a Russian mobster, you would have bypassed him altogether and waited for the next man to approach you.

My rational thinking has been thrown out the window. Not to mention there’s a thick cloud of grief blanketing me like a heavy weight. My mother is the only one I’ve spoken with in the past few days, and it’s not a healthy thing to do.

“Hello? Mom?” I wished I could give her a hug and curl up in her arms back in Ohio like I used to.

“Hi. You’ve heard?”

“Yes. I can’t—I can’t go.”

“You won’t be there? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I can’t face a funeral now.” Especially after knowing I slept with the man who murdered my father. Even though, when I think of Ruslan, my entire body flushes with a strange heat.

My mother paused for a long beat before answering. “Very well. I understand. He knew the consequences of his profession and the type of lifestyle he was leading.”

“Yes, he did. Mom, I love you, but I have to go.” I’d held in my tears on the phone wanting to keep strong for her because she might have let him go for the mob, but deep down inside, I knew she made the ultimate sacrifice in love, releasing him go to the mob.

Hauling myself out of the past, a mournful sigh escapes my lips as I wet my hair, put a brush through it, scraping my hair up and into a ponytail, just so I feel a little better about myself. Going through the motions, I brush my teeth, throw on some new clothes, making the decision to call my girlfriends, and let them in. I’ve been sulking long enough, and it’s not going to help anything.

---