Page 29 of Mafia Pregnancy

The distinction matters more than it should. It matters because despite every logical reason to maintain professional distance, despite the security risks and potential complications, I still want to protect her from the dangerous realities of my world.

If she isn’t working against me, then shielding her means protecting her from my world. I should let her go, but I can’t.

9

Danielle

The nausea hits me while I’m cleaning the ash from the fireplace in Radmir’s study, a wave so sudden and violent I have to clamp my hand over my mouth and rush to the nearest bathroom. I barely make it before my stomach empties itself, leaving me shaky and dizzy as I grip the marble countertop.

This is becoming a pattern. In the four days since Carmen and I confirmed what I already suspected, my body seems to have decided to announce this pregnancy to anyone paying attention. I need to be more careful and find ways to manage these symptoms before someone notices.

When I return to the study, I find Andrei standing near the fireplace, examining my half-finished work with deep attention that makes my skin crawl. He’s always unsettled me in ways I can’t quite articulate. Where Radmir is scorching intensity, Andrei is frigid calculation. Where Radmir sometimes lets emotion flicker across his features, Andrei remains perpetuallyunreadable. I’m not frightened of him, exactly, but I’m wary, like prey around a hungry beast.

“Ms. Arden.” His voice is polite and professional, but there’s something underneath that makes me want to step back. “Are you feeling well? You left rather suddenly.”

I force myself to stay calm, to project the kind of professional composure that’s kept me employed for months. “I’m fine. I’m just battling a bug.”

“Of course.” He moves closer once I’m again kneeling beside the fireplace, his presence looming over me in a way that feels like he’s trying to intimidate me. “These old fireplaces can be dusty. It’s easy to inhale particles that upset the stomach.”

There’s something in his tone that suggests he knows exactly why I was sick, but that’s impossible. I’ve been careful and haven’t told anyone except Carmen. He has no reason to suspect anything. “Yes. I should finish this and move on to the next room.” I reach for my cleaning supplies, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.

Instead, he settles into one of the leather chairs facing the fireplace, making it clear he’s not going anywhere. “Actually, I was hoping we could have a brief conversation.”

My stomach clenches, and not from morning sickness. “About what?”

“About discretion and the importance of maintaining confidentiality in a household like this one.” His pale eyes study my face with uncomfortable intensity. “I’m sure when you were hired, someone explained the terms of your employment agreement.”

“Mrs. Yranda went over everything with me, yes.”

“Including the non-disclosure provisions?”

I nod, though I’m not sure where this conversation is heading. “I understand Mr. Vetrov values his privacy.”

“Mr. Vetrov values many things, including privacy, loyalty, and the assurance his domestic staff understands the consequences of violating the trust he places in them.” Andrei leans forward slightly, his voice remaining conversational despite the menace underlying his words. “You’ve been an exemplary employee, Ms. Arden. Punctual, thorough, and professional. It would be unfortunate if that were to change.”

I stiffen. “I don’t understand what you’re suggesting.”

He blinks, looking placid. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m simply reminding you working in this house comes with certain responsibilities that extend beyond dusting furniture and cleaning windows.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Sometimes, domestic staff overhear conversations and business discussions that weren’t intended for their ears.”

My blood runs cold. He knows. Somehow, he knows I was listening when they talked about shell companies and customs documentation and Montenegro. “I would never repeat anything I might accidentally overhear while working.” The words come out steadier than I feel. “I understand the importance of confidentiality.”

“I’m sure you do, and I’m sure you understand violating that confidentiality would have serious consequences. Not just for your employment, but for your overall well-being.” He stands, straightening his suit jacket with a firm tug. “The non-disclosureagreement you signed is somewhat vague, but there are very specific consequences to people who betray Mr. Vetrov’s trust.”

The threat is clear, even wrapped in polite language. I think about Leo, the life we’ve built, and how easily it could all disappear if Andrei decides I’m a security risk. My stomach clenches when I think about the vulnerable baby in my belly. I struggle to sound calm when I reply. “I understand completely.”

“Excellent. I knew you were intelligent enough to see reason.” He moves toward the door, then pauses. “Oh, if you’re feeling unwell, perhaps you should consider seeing a doctor. Prolonged illness can affect one’s judgment, making it difficult to maintain the discretion this position requires.”

“Thank you for the suggestion, but I feel better already,” I say coldly. Is he threatening my pregnancy? Does he actually know, or is he just using my flight to the bathroom as a way to put more pressure on me?

“Excellent.” He gives me a warm smile that seems oddly genuine in contrast to the menacing conversation we just had. “I’m glad to hear it. I’d like your employment to continue with our boss for a long time.” His words ease some of my fears. If he suspected I was pregnant, he wouldn’t be referencing me staying on long-term. I get the feeling he’s Radmir’s fixer, and he’d be trying to fix the situation with either a discreet abortion or a large payoff if he knew or even strongly suspected.

After he leaves, I sit back on my heels, my hands shaking. Andrei threatened me—subtly and professionally, but unmistakably. He knows I overheard sensitive information, and he’s making it clear that using that information would be dangerous. I had no intention of telling anyone, so I’m irrationally angry at the accusation for a moment before the fear takes over again.

The smart thing would be to quit immediately. I should give notice, find another job, and disappear from Radmir’s life before this situation gets any more complicated, but I can’t afford to quit without another job lined up, and finding equivalent employment could take weeks or months. Leo’s school tuition is due again next month, and our savings account barely has enough to cover rent and groceries.

I’m trapped, at least for now.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of routine cleaning tasks, but Andrei’s words echo in my mind. Every time I think about telling Radmir the truth about Leo and this pregnancy, I remember the cold calculation in Andrei’s eyes and the carefully worded threats about what happens to people who violate trust.

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