Page 28 of Forbidden Boss

But just as quickly, she pushes me away and smooths down her dress.

“I have to get back to work,Mr.Borikov,” she says coldly, a perfect mask of professionalism on her face despite her smudged lipstick.

I carefully swipe at my own mouth to get rid of the evidence.

“Whatever you say, Ms.Gonzales,” I shoot back. “I’ll see you at six in front of the building. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She glares at me until I move out of her way and unlock my door for her.

13

MARI

As the weekend passes, I have to admit, reluctantly, that the compound feels a lot less oppressive than the penthouse. I don’t feel so cooped up, and the gardensarebeautiful. I take long walks through them several times a day, breathing in the fresh air I never get in the city. I still hate the fences and the men who stand around pretending to be harmless, but the bed is perfect, and the quiet is addictive. If I ignore the earpieces and the guns, it’s almost nice.

Susie, on the other hand, is having the time of her life. Lev moved her to a West Side apartment with a doorman and a view we could only dream about before. She sent me a video tour earlier this week. The kitchen has brand-new appliances. The furniture is luxurious and comfortable. She has the largest TV I’ve ever seen in my life, and Lev even made sure her fridge is stocked.

“If this is your dangerous era,” she said, “please endanger us into a matching set of wine glasses.”

I told her to shut up. With a small smile and giggle.

Later, she sent me a picture of her feet propped on the balcony railing and said, “No, seriously, get yourself into slightly more trouble. I’m thriving.”

Back at the office Monday morning, I try to pretend my life is normal. I focus on my budget reconciliations and make sure all of our vendors got paid last week. It’s utterly boring and mundane, which is exactly what I love about this job. I needlessdanger in my life, no matter what Susie says.

It’s 11:15 when my phone buzzes and my stomach drops. There’s a notification from my period-tracking app, reminding me that I haven’t logged my period this month. Panicked, I open it and look at the calendar view. I’m a week late.

Before panic grips me, I force a little logic. Stress can delay things. I’m on the pill. There’s absolutely no reason for me to think I’m pregnant.

I make it to noon, tell my hallmates I’m stepping out for lunch, and end up in the back seat of a black SUV with Pavel. He’s tall, quiet, and absolutely hates me. Not without reason. Last week, I made him walk exactly six paces in front of me and refused to walk for a solid five minutes when I felt like he was too close. I know it isn’t fair to punish him for doing his job, but all of Lev’s men are an extension of him. I have to let out my frustration somehow.

We drive the two blocks to the pharmacy. It’s a waste of gas and time, but Lev refuses to let me walk anywhere, calling it a liability.

“Ten minutes,” Pavel grumbles when we get inside the pharmacy.

“Set a timer,” I mutter, and grab a basket.

I make sure he stays posted by the door before I head to the women’s aisle. Once there, I swear I break out in hives. There are so many different options for pregnancy tests, and they all look like nuclear bombs.

I grab two different tests because I don’t know which one is better, and I don’t want to take any chances. I toss in a bottle of shampoo, hoping to hide my purchases from Pavel, and pay without looking anyone in the eye.

“How’d I do?” I ask Pavel in an overly cheery tone.

“Thirty seconds to spare,” he grunts. “Not bad. Let’s go.”

Back in the office bathroom, I lock myself in a stall, rip open both boxes, and follow the instructions carefully. The three minutes it takes for the result to come back are simultaneously the longest and fastest of my life.

I pace the entire bathroom, jump around to burn off some of my nervous energy, and stretch my legs out on the sink. None of it helps with the nausea churning in my stomach. When my timer goes off, I pick up both tests, and I really do have to throw up.

Two very clear lines on one test, and a condescending plus sign on the other.

I’m pregnant.

I clean up and go back to my office so I don’t draw any more suspicion. I know Pavel is watching my every move throughout the day.

An unexpected pregnancy is bad enough. I’m only twenty-three. I wasn’t planning to think about kids for several more years. I wanted to be settled, and maybe even married, before I had todecide. This wasn’t part of my plan, and that alone is enough to send me into a panic spiral.

But there’s an even bigger elephant in the room. Lev runs a criminal organization. He’s literally a mob boss, no matter what terms he uses for that title. He’s the most dangerous man I’ve ever met, and now he’s contributed half the DNA of the little life growing inside me.