Page 19 of Surprise Quadruplets for the Mob

He glances at me with a smile, his eyes holding a glint of amusement. “Ah, well, that’s a bit of a complicated question. I’m in the real estate business, among other things.”

Real estate? Not the answer I expected, somehow, but I don’t press further. I’m slowly learning that with this guy, there’s always more to the story.

“I have a confession to make,” he says as we speed through the downtown streets. He glances at me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “My name—my real name—is Maksim. Alec was just a name I used for convenience. It’s easier to go by a different name sometimes.”

“Easier?” I repeat, puzzled. “Why would it be easier to use a fake name?”

He shrugs, as if trying to downplay it. “Sometimes, in my line of work, it’s better to keep things a bit more discreet. You know, to protect myself and the people I care about.”

His answer only adds to the mystery surrounding him. What kind of real estate work could possibly warrant using a fake name?

“In real estate? Are yousureyou’re not a murderer?” I ask playfully, although to be quite frank I’m not so sure myself that it isn’t a fair question to ask. Especially when his only response is a snort, as he takes a left and continues driving.

Before I can press further, we pull up in front of a small restaurant. My jaw drops when he ushers me inside. It’s unlike any place I’ve been before. The atmosphere is hushed and luxurious, and I can tell by the opulent décor that it’s expensive.

“Wow,” I say, my eyes wide with astonishment. “This place is so pretty. You didn’t have to bring me somewhere fancy.”

Maksim chuckles, a low and infectious sound. “Why not indulge ourselves? Life is too short not to enjoy the finer things.”

I can’t argue with that logic, but the idea of spending so much money on a meal still astounds me. As we’re seated at a private table, I glance around and notice the attentive staff, the elegant settings, and the rich aroma of the food. It’s all so lavish, and I feel a bit out of place. At least I’m dressed for the occasion. I can’t imagine showing up at a place like this in jeans or a plain, simple skirt. “This place really is incredible, Maksim,” I whisper, trying out the unfamiliar name. His real name. Which I still don’t understand why he felt the need to hide, but it feels too late to go back on the subject now.

“I’m glad you agreed to join me,” he says, his eyes softening with warmth. “To be truthful, I wasn’t sure if it was the right idea for me to come to the fundraiser again this year.”

My shoulders hunch in a little self-consciously. Was he avoiding me?

“But in the end, you were the reason I came back.”

He reaches across the table to take my hand, his touch sending a tingle up my arm.

“Oh,” I manage, feeling a blush forming warm on my cheeks. “Then, why did you leave so quickly that morning? Or…or why not try to find me again all this time? You know who I am.”

His green eyes dart searchingly across my features. “Would you have wanted me to?”

“Yes,” I respond, probably a little too quickly, and I feel my cheeks heat further.

He looks down at where our fingers touch in the middle of the table, and a smile flickers against his lips, before something like worry descends over his features and, still looking down, he pulls back.

“I wanted to. I’ve been thinking about you a lot this past year. More than I think is probably normal, for the short time we spent together.”

Me too,I say internally, although I wait for him to finish so as not to interrupt.

“That morning,” he continues, before finally looking up, “I didn’t want to leave you, but I wasn’t ready for anything serious at the time. I was hoping to see you again at the fundraiser this year.”

My heart skips a beat at his words, and I’m relieved to know he was thinking of me just as much as I’ve been thinking about him.

“I was hoping I’d see you again, too,” I murmur, and his lips once more lift in a smile. “Also, there was something I wanted to tell you. It’s…it’s important.”

He leans forward, his eyes locked on mine with genuine interest. “You can tell me anything, Abby. I’m here to listen.”

I fidget with the napkin in my lap, trying to find the right words. “Well, you see, last year, after we met at the fundraiser, when we, um, spent the night together. I knew it was a one-time thing, and I obviously didn’t plan for it to happen. But, um, I…I got pregnant.”

Maksim’s expression shifts from curiosity to surprise, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Pregnant?”

I nod, unable to tell what he’s thinking or how he’s taking the news. There’s nothing to do but keep pushing forward. “I wanted to find you. I really did. But all I had was your first name, and apparently not even your real first name. I hit a dead end and had no choice but to move forward on my own.”

He runs a hand through his hair, processing the information with a sharp intake of breath. “You kept the baby?”

“Do you wish I hadn’t?” I ask, and suddenly there’s a weight in the air, a solid feeling in my chest, that tells me his answer right now is very important, and will change the course of ‘us’ with finality.

---