Page 3 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

“Agreed. Hot. Now you just need the perfect shoestring strap shoe to go with, and you’re going to knock them dead.”

A sparkle comes to my eyes as I hold the dress up in the change room mirror. “Yep, I hope I’m going to be going home with someone by the end of the night.”

“For sure you will. You could have already, but you’ve just been so fussy. Heads turn as soon as you walk in the nightclub, Fi; you just don’t realize it,” Sophia discloses, performing a catwalk routine in front of the mirror.

“You’re probably right,” I reply with a weighty sigh, grappling with my wardrobe choices. “Let’s see what Friday night brings, huh?”

“Oh, it’s going to bring all the boys to the yard. Trust me. We—” Sophia points back and forth with her finger to Rachael. “—are going to make sure of it.”

Now the threat’s not so scary.

Chapter Two - Ruslan

Destiny Bar is pumping, and I can feel the beat of the trance music pulsating through my bones, and it’s just the way I like it. It’s the perfect bar for a party-going Bratva boss like me. I can set up in the VIP lounge, slink back into the dark corner of the velvet chaise lounge, watching everything and everyone from a distance. If I want to engage and grab any woman I see, I can have Mark round me up the surplus of available club skanks,orI can challenge myself—not that it’s much of a challenge for a witty charmer like me.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I grab my chilled vodka on the rocks, sipping it and watching the scantily clad blonde in front of me, dancing and grinding her body in time with the music. Chuckling, I wink at her as the fringe of her short skirt grazes my sinewy forearm. A thick beat rides through my alcohol-fueled system as I resist the urge to grab the dancer and perch her on my lap. Rolling up my sleeves, I open my legs wider so she can slide between them. Beckoning her to come closer, with my index finger, I raise my glass to entice her, as her oriental perfume wafts through my nose.

Her hair is like silk as I comb my fingers through its dangling strands, my cock rising to the occasion. Andrei—my cousin—looks on in amusement, chuckling to my right. To my left is my Bratva right-hand man, Mark, and a couple of other associates have floated in and out of the booth throughout the night. Every single one of them has a woman dancing in front of them. It’s a standard Friday night for all of us, and we’ve got a lot to celebrate.

“Hey,” she asks silkily as I deeply inhale the scent of her, running my fingers through her hair. “Are you and your boys having a good time tonight?”

Whispering in her ear, I reply, “I sure am, and it looks like the boys are too. How about you, sweetheart?”

Her surgically enhanced breasts flounce in front of my face, and I watch swaying my head from side to side. It’s tempting to think about taking her home, but why would I when I can check out what else is on the platter in the club?

“I am. I’m having a great time,” she replies as I tuck a hundred-dollar bill down the middle of her bra. Andrei interrupts, tapping my arm.

“I just got a text,” he advises, his face changing to more of a serious tone.

“Okay, I’ll wrap this up,” I tell him, returning my gaze briefly back to the woman in front of me. “Good, good.” Abruptly, I cool down my wit, swiftly replacing it was a cold, icy glare. “Take the other girls and go, please,” I reprimand politely enough, watching her body movements slow down.

“Really? You want us to go?” she asks, a baffled expression riding over her face.

“Yes.Go.Maybe I’ll call you back later, but for now, you’re going to have to go. Don’t worry, enjoy drinks on me, anything you want. Tell Teddy at the bar it’s open for you and the girls, okay?” The dark tilt of my tone screams of danger, but she immediately catches the hint, shifting back from between my legs, and nudging her girls to beat a hasty path.

“Oh, umm, okay, Ruslan.”

As the girls scamper off, I turn my face to my men, getting serious.

“Hey, I was in the middle of something important,” Mark explains as I sip more of my drink.

“Fuck what you were in the middle of. Bratva business is more important. Remember that always,” I remind him with a deadpan stare as I snap my fingers in the direction of the DJ. He shifts one of his headphones back from his ear, holding up an “OK” symbol, and automatically the music in the VIP booth descends.

Andrei drains the remains in his vodka glass. “You’re right about that, but we do have cause for celebration, despite the text message,” he replies gravely.

Mark nods, cracking a smile. “Yep. Securing Harwood Heights and Lyon were massive. We’ve been trying for weeks to have them negotiate.”

Grimly, I nod my head. “Yep, you’ve got that right, and supplying those low-level drug runners is the perfect cover for our larger operations. They’re so stupid, they don’t realize how much we’ve marked up their rubbish guns.”

“Dummies,” Andrei scoffs with a self-satisfied smirk. My cousin, Andrei, is almost a dead ringer for me with his dark hair and pale features, the only difference being our height—him being smaller, my facial hair, and the extensive range of tattoos inked on my body, telling their own story. He’s as ruthless as me and that’s precisely why, as a blood brother, I keep him close. Not all members of my Bratva brotherhood are as sharp as me, and that’s why I’ve worked my way to the top, slugging through the ranks, but Andrei and Mark hold their marks. I can trust them.

“The whole of the Southside of Chicago is ours in one way or another,” Mark comments as we clink our glasses together.

“Yes. Now we need to take our sights to the top of the tree. We have to reach our Bratva roots deeper into political networks, and that will give us more political powerand protection,” I add, letting my brain run wild with the possibilities.

“Yep, but first we need to concentrate on these Omerta files. That’s what’s going to make us the most feared Bratva network in the whole country,” Andrei proposes, practically salivating.

“We need to get the girls back because this deserves a toast. The Italians will crumble if Omerta files are released publicly,” Mark points out.

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