Page 37 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

Accepting my answer, we leave her study, the Omerta files now in my possession.

Chapter Nineteen - Fiona

It takes close to a week for me to get back to my new normal as a pregnant mob-wife-to-be. The parking lot kidnapping had been doing a number on me as it looped on replay in my mind, the stories of what could have been keeping me up at night.

I used the excuse of creeping into the kitchen for snacks when Ruslan caught me the first night. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his tall, built body taking up all the right amount of space in the kitchen.

“What are you doing up?” I avoided eye contact with him because I didn’t want to end up in his bed. There were so many emotions I had yet to process about my life, and the loss of my father, and honestly I had no idea where to begin.

“I came for a snack, and I couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled, doing my best to push him away. “Go back to sleep. There’s nothing’s wrong with the baby or me,” I lied, knowing that part of being a mob wife is being resilient. I didn’t want Ruslan’s pity. I’m sure in his mind I was never his true choice of wife, despite our magnetic attraction.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” I’d held on to the lie as tightly as I could, waiting until Ruslan left to sob to myself, and rifling around the refrigerator for food. Ruslan had already put together a stack of sandwiches with my favorite in them and brought extra crisps. It makes the waterworks turn on even more, but I didn’t give him enough credit for picking up on my emotional cues, because as soon as the fridge door closed, Ruslan’s intense shadow filled the space, drawing me in for a tight hug.

“I knew you weren’t okay. Tell me what I can do to help, Fiona. I made a promise to you. Nobody’s going to hurt you, and if this is about Bergin—know that he’s already been taken care of.”

Brushing back the tears, I sniff, playing it off. “I’m fine. It’s just the hormonal changes and thinking about my father. Sorry.” Ruslan’s face softened as his large hands covered my shoulders, kissing my forehead.

“Understandable, and I know I said we should be in separate rooms until the wedding, but if you want to come into my room, the door’s open,” he rasped, the croak of sleep in his voice.

I refused, not wanting to rely on being in Ruslan’s bed as emotional comfort. “I’m okay, thanks. I’m going to eat my snacks and go back to sleep.”

He hovered for a minute, but didn’t overstep the boundary, leaving as quickly as he came. Still the looming questions came.

What if Bergin got me into his SUV and Ruslan couldn’t save me? What will happen the next time?

What if he can’t figure out what to do with the picture I gave him? I’d tossed and turned so much, that I’d worn myself and the baby out, and the growing seed in my stomach is what stopped me from worrying.

You’re going to stress the baby out. You have to stop the worrying.

Today, I’m better. Besides, I can’t stay fearful, I have a wedding to look forward to, and the dressmaker is coming today for my final fittings in the afternoon. I wish I had moreinvolvement in the process, but Ruslan and the staff of the estate assure me they have everything under control.

If it were my wedding, my friends and I would be designing everything down to the wedding invitations and seat placements.

Feeling sorry for myself and still in my robe, I push back the curtains of my suite, seeking entry to the outside world, and what I see and hear is the purr of Ruslan’s red sports car reversing in the driveway. My presence in the window must make him look up at him as he throws me a wave and a broad grin. He’s so charming, and handsome, but where is he coming and going from all the time?

You’re never home.I let the curtains seal back together, becoming annoyed and resentful of him. I know it’s Bratva business, and that he’s a busy man, but still, it irks me that he won’t spend more time with me. The shrill sound of my phone overturns my thoughts as I pick it up.

“Good morning,” I say to Ruslan.

“Good morning my beautiful wife to be. You look good in your robe. I’m checking in.”

A wave of sunshine touches me as I listen to the seductive timbre of his voice, and it’s amazing how he’s changed my mood just like that.

“Thank you.” I blush, wishing he was with me.

“I have a surprise for you when I get back. I’ll tell you about it when I see you in the afternoon.”

“Oi! You can’t do that. Tell me now what it is?” I whine, a touch excited.

“No. You’ll have to wait, but I can guarantee you’ll be happy about it.” He chuckles.

“I can’t wait,” I gush. It would be nice to have a good surprise.

“Me neither. And by the way, I think we’ve figured out the clue from the warehouse picture.”

The mention of my father’s picture pains me as I wince, having betrayed his trust, even if in death. Gulping down the unknown possible regret, I nod solemnly, suddenly wanting to hang up. “Okay. I guess that’s good for you,” I say sadly, folding in my bottom lip.

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