Page 3 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

I chuckle dryly, relaxing in my seat. “Unfortunate. No, that’s not what I’d call the stunt that asshole pulled.”

“Be that as it may, it’s done. You both vowed to let bygones be bygones.”

No, father. I vowed to make him pay, one way or the other. I’m simply waiting for the day you close your eyes.

“Ezio will become Don of the Rossi organization after me,” my father continues. “That’s the way of things and always will be.” He picks at his teeth with a toothpick, then tosses it on his plate. “You both know your place in the organization. But the point remains, Ezio. Like me, you’re not getting any younger. I suggest you sow your oats now to secure the family line.”

The topic of family succession is not a new one between me and my father. He’s been on my case for the last two years. And for the last two years, my answer has been the same. “I’m not ready.”

Not necessarily true. I want kids. I want a family, just not on my father’s command. Though I’m looking forward to producing my own heir someday, I’ll postpone it just to spite his controlling ass.

Stefano turns his attention back to his dinner plate, sawing away at a slab of meat with his knife and fork. “Mhm. I just might break tradition, after all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, frowning.

With a slight shrug, my father slowly lifts his head to look at me. “Your brother seems more enthused to give me grandkids. Maybe I should lethimtake over.”

I’m tempted to call his bluff, but I’ve been alive long enough to know the lengths my father will go to get what he wants. Alessandro’s smirk is enough to make me back down. I’ll never give my brother that satisfaction. He willneverrun this enterprise.

“So, you’re saying I should go out and choose a random woman to impregnate?” I ask.

Alessandro sniggers.

Stefano shrugs his wide shoulders. “You’re quite popular with the ladies, so that shouldn’t be a problem,” he says between chews. “In several years, I’ll be gone from this earth, and God knows what you’ll be doing with the legacy I built. Stop wasting my time, Ezio, pick one, and knock her up. Better yet,” he pauses, pointing at me with his dinner knife. “Pick two or three. Increase the odds.”

I shake my head. I think the old man is finally losing it. The day I must take over the Rossi operations may come sooner than I thought. “And what if I succeed?” I ask. “Assuming any of them would carry a baby to term and not run for the nearest abortion clinic, then what? Steal the kids? Buy them from their mothers?”

Stefano looks at me as if I’m the one who’s crazy. “For fuck’s sake Ezio. It isn’t that hard. If push comes to shove, we just eliminate the mothers, like any other obstacle. Quick bullet in the head. All in a day’s work for you, I should think.”

Holy fuck. Killing women? This is cold, even for him. I look down at my plate. I’ve quite lost my appetite. I drape my napkin over my unfinished meal and rise from the table, the legs of my chair scraping harshly against the polished stone floor. “Excuse me. I have an appointment.”

I leave the room, feeling their curious stares boring into my back, and head toward the underground garage that lies beneath the rambling main residence of the Rossi estate where my prized Maserati Ghibli sits parked. I don’t exactly have an appointment, but I need some space from my father and brother right now, and a high-speed drive to anywhere that’s not this claustrophobic house is the quickest escape.

I start to wonder if Alessandro and I were even told the truth about our own mother and how she died. We had no way of knowing; we were only toddlers when it happened. But knowing my father, I highly doubt it was anything but innocent. Stefano was a madman, and he raised us as if he were training soldiers for war. The only ‘motherly’ attention we ever got was from a string of nannies that came and went like the days of the week.

Just as thoughts of my brother and our childhood crossed my mind, Alessandro suddenly appears at my shoulder.

“Off to play Norman Bates again, are we?” he sneers.

I don’t bother turning to look at him. “Where I go and what I do is no concern of yours,” I say, pressing the button for the elevator that will take me to the underground level. “Don’t talk to me unless it’s business-related, Alessandro. I already told you that.”

“Well, this is business-related,” he replies. “It concerns the enterprise.”

“What about it?”

“We both know I’m the better fit to run things. Why don’t you convince father to let me take over while you keep doing what you do best?” He points to where my fingers are linked. My thumbs tap against each other as I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re better with those hands than your brain, anyway.”

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” I growl.

A wiser man would’ve heard the danger in my voice and made a hasty retreat. My idiot brother thinks he’s protected by our blood tie. Not that he’s wrong to assume that.

At least, for now.

“What I have is a goal. I might not be a skilled marksman as you are. I don’t find pleasure in taking someone’s life like you do.”

I know, which is why I’m still alive today.

“But I’m smart,” he continues. “With you as my second-in-command, I can make our family the most successful mob enterprise in the state. All I need is for you to step aside.”

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