Page 8 of Mafia Pregnancy

“Danielle.” Carmen’s voice is carefully neutral. “What did this Mikhail look like?”

I close my eyes, remembering. “Tall. Maybe six-four. Dark hair and gray-blue eyes. He was...” I pause, heat flooding my cheeks. “He was beautiful. Dangerous. Like he could handle anything the world threw at him.”

When I open my eyes, Carmen is staring at me with an expression I can’t read. Something between shock and understanding, fear and sympathy.

“That’s not a coincidence, Danielle.”

My heart starts racing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that’s not just a resemblance. That’s a perfect description of Radmir Vetrov.”

The coffee maker beeps, signaling it’s finished brewing, but I can’t move.

“No.” The word comes out as a whisper. “No,” I say more firmly. “It’s just an uncanny resemblance. Maybe Mikhail was a distant cousin or something.” I don’t believe that, but I hope she will.

She arches a skeptical brow, and her voice is gentle but firm. “Why would a security guard use a fake name? Why would he disappear without a trace?”

Because he’s not a security guard. He’s Radmir Vetrov, and I’m nobody. He lied to me about everything, and I was too naïve to realize it. I understand that now, but I don’t think it’s in mine or Leo’s best interest for her to know, guess, or think Radmir might be his father.

My stomach drops, and I grip the counter harder, fighting off the wave of dizziness that threatens to overwhelm me. Carmen is right about the physical description, but she can’t know the truth. She can’t even suspect it. “It’s just a coincidence,” I say, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. “An uncanny resemblance, but that’s all it is.”

Carmen stands and moves to the coffee maker, pouring two cups with steady hands. “Are you sure? Because that’s an awfully specific set of features to match by accident.”

“What else could it be?” I accept the coffee she hands me, grateful for something to do with my shaking hands. “You think my one-night stand from four years ago just happens to be my new boss? That’s impossible.”

“Is it? Stranger things have happened.” She sits back down, studying my face with concern. “Maybe this Mikhail worked for Mr. Vetrov back then. Security for someone that wealthy would make sense, and he could be a distant relation, like you said?”

The suggestion makes my chest tighten because it’s too close to the truth, but it also gives me an escape route. “Even if that were true, it doesn’t change anything. Mikhail disappeared, and I moved on with my life.”

She frowns. “But the resemblance bothers you.”

“Of course, it bothers me.” I take a sip of coffee, using the time to steady my voice. “It’s unsettling to work for someone who looks like—somewhat like—the man who abandoned me when I was pregnant, but I can handle it.”

Carmen leans forward, her expression softening. “Danielle, maybe you should tell Mr. Vetrov about the resemblance. If this Mikhail did work for him, or is a relative, maybe he could help you find him.”

The suggestion sends panic shooting through my veins. “No. Absolutely not.”

She seems taken aback by my vehemence. “Why not? Don’t you think Leo deserves to know his father?”

“Leo deserves a father who wants him.” I set down my coffee cup harder than necessary. “Not one who has to be tracked down and forced into caring.”

She hesitates before saying, “What if there’s an explanation? What if something happened that prevented him from looking for you?”

I shake my head violently. “Carmen, you don’t understand. Men like that, who lie about their identities and disappear without a trace, don’t want complications. They don’t want responsibility. Mikhail made his choice four years ago.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I scowl. “He had four years to find me if he wanted, to be honest about who he was or is, and to be anything other than a lying stranger, who used me for one night and moved on.” My voice cracks slightly, and I force myself to take a deep breath. “I can’t afford to hope for something that will never happen.”

She’s quiet for a moment, watching me struggle with emotions I’ve kept buried for years. When she speaks again, her voice is careful. “What are you going to do about working there if the resemblance is this upsetting?”

“I’ll adapt and get over it,” I say in a hard tone. “I’m going to do my job and keep my head down.” The answer comes immediately, born of necessity and self-preservation. “I need this position. Leo’s tuition is due, and I can’t afford to lose steady income because my boss reminds me of someone from my past.”

“How long do you think you can handle it?” There’s a hint of doubt in her tone.

“As long as I need to. I’ll work there just long enough to get caught up on bills and maybe save a little money.” I shrug. “Then I can find something else somewhere that doesn’t come with uncomfortable reminders.”

“What about Leo? What if he ever meets Mr. Vetrov? What if he notices the resemblance too? What if one or both ask questions?”

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