Page 14 of Mafia Pregnancy

Danielle

I t’s my day off, and the nausea hits me while I’m folding Leo’s laundry, a sudden wave that sends me rushing to the bathroom with my hand pressed over my mouth. I barely make it to the toilet before my morning coffee comes back up, leaving me shaky and confused as I grip the porcelain bowl.

This is the third time this week. I’ve had three mornings of waking up queasy, three afternoons of sudden exhaustion that makes it hard to focus on my cleaning tasks, and three evenings of falling asleep on the couch while Leo watches cartoons.

I tell myself it’s stress. The past ten weeks have been a careful dance of avoidance and professionalism that’s worn me down to nothing.

Working in Radmir’s house while pretending we’re strangers, cleaning around him like he’s just another piece of expensive furniture, and maintaining the fiction that ten weeks ago didn’t happen is enough to make anyone sick.

I rinse my mouth and splash cold water on my face, studying my reflection in the small bathroom mirror. I look pale and a little tired, like I’m starting to get sick. Leo’s been asking if I’m feeling okay, clearly picking up on changes I’m trying to pretend don’t exist.

My phone vibrates. It’s a message from Carmen: Park? Leo can play while we catch up.

I stare at the message, considering it. I’ve been avoiding Carmen’s concerned questions for weeks, deflecting her attempts to talk about what’s been bothering me. She knows something’s wrong and can probably see it in the way I’ve been moving through the days like I’m underwater.

Maybe it’s time to admit I need help figuring out what’s happening to me.

Sounds good. Meet you at Sunset Cliffs at 4?

The park is busy when we arrive, filled with families enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Leo immediately spots the playground and runs toward the swings, his backpack bouncing against his shoulders. I watch him go, envious of his endless energy even when mine is flagging.

Carmen and I settle on a bench with a clear view of the playground. She’s brought coffee for both of us, though the smell makes my stomach lurch in an unwelcome way.

“You look terrible,” she says without preamble, studying my face with the directness I’ve come to expect from her. “When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

I wrap my hands around the coffee cup for warmth, though I can’t bring myself to drink it. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.”

“Since when?”

“The past few weeks. Maybe longer.” I watch Leo climb the jungle gym with determined focus. “I think it’s stress from work.”

Carmen raises an eyebrow. “Stress from cleaning houses?”

“Stress from working for...” I trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence without revealing too much.

“For your boss who looks kinda like your baby daddy?” Carmen’s voice is gentle. “Danielle, we’ve talked about this. The resemblance is uncanny, but that doesn’t mean you should let it affect your health.”

I take a shaky breath, trying to find the words to explain what I can’t quite understand myself. “It’s more than just a resemblance.”

“What do you mean?”

The truth sits in my throat like a stone. For weeks, I’ve been carrying this secret knowledge that changes everything and nothing at the same time. Trying to regain calm, I watch Leo navigate the monkey bars with determined focus, his small hands gripping each rung with complete confidence.

“Carmen, what if I told you Leo’s father wasn’t who I thought he was?”

She frowns, clearly not following. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if the name Mikhail gave me was fake? What if everything he told me about himself was a lie?” My hands shake as I grip the coffee cup. “What if I’ve been working for him this whole time?”

Carmen’s expression shifts from confusion to shock as understanding dawns. “Danielle, are you saying...”

“I’m saying Radmir Vetrov and Mikhail Petrov are the same person.” The words feel strange in my mouth, like speaking a foreign language. “My boss is Leo’s father, and he’s been pretending not to know me for months.”

Carmen stares at me for a long moment, processing. “And ten weeks ago?”

“Ten weeks ago, that pretense broke down temporarily. We ended up... We slept together in his office.” I can’t meet her gaze. “I told myself it was closure, or curiosity, or just a moment of weakness, but…”

Carmen’s coffee cup slips from her hands, spilling across the bench between us. She doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re telling me that the man you work for, who signs your paychecks, is the same man who...” She can’t finish the sentence.

“The same man who gave me a fake name and disappeared after one night, yes. The same man who has no idea he has a son.” I pull napkins from my purse and start cleaning up the spilled coffee, needing something to do with my shaking hands.

“Danielle.” Carmen grabs my wrist, stopping my frantic cleaning. “This is insane. You’ve been working for Leo’s father for months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I can barely process it myself.” I pull my hands free and lean back against the bench.

“Then you had sex in his office.” Carmen’s voice is flat with disbelief or shock. “Then, what? Just pretended not to know each other again?”

“I know how it sounds. It was stupid and reckless and completely unprofessional, but I couldn’t stop myself.” The memory of that afternoon floods back with unwelcome clarity. “For thirty minutes, it felt like four years hadn’t passed, and he was still the man I thought he was.”

“What happened after?”

“Nothing then, and nothing since. Like you said, we both pretended it never happened. He’s been traveling more, and when he’s home, we avoid each other completely.” I watch Leo race across the playground toward the slide. “It was supposed to be a one-time mistake that I made twice.”

Carmen is quiet for a long moment, processing everything I’ve told her. When she finally speaks, her voice is gentle but firm. “Danielle, secrets like this don’t stay buried forever, especially not when there’s a child involved.”

I tense up. “Leo doesn’t know anything about his father. As far as he’s concerned, Radmir is just my boss.”

“For now, but what happens when he gets older? When he starts asking harder questions?” Carmen shifts on the bench to face me fully.

“What about Radmir? Don’t you think he has a right to know he has a son?

You couldn’t find Mikhail to tell him because he didn’t exist, but Radmir is here now. He owes you…something.”

The question I’ve been avoiding for months sits between us like a live wire. “He gave me a fake name and disappeared. He made it clear he didn’t want any complications from that night.”

“That was four years ago. People change.”

“Do they? Because the man I work for now is just as guarded, and just as careful about keeping people at a distance.” I think about the way Radmir looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching, and the way he’s been traveling constantly to avoid being in the same house.

“He doesn’t want complications any more now than he did then.

” I recall that damning conversation I overheard parts of and understand he has a good reason for pushing me away, but I can’t tell Carmen that without endangering her.

She studies my face with the intensity of someone trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re scared of him.”

“I’m scared of what he could do if he found out about Leo. He’s powerful, Carmen. Rich in ways I can’t even comprehend. If he decided he wanted his son...” I can’t tell her I think he’s into something shady that could be a risk to us.

“You think he’d try to take Leo away from you?”

I ball the napkins in my hand. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe he’d just disappear again, but this time, Leo would eventually know his father rejected him.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warm afternoon. “Either way, Leo gets hurt.”

“Or maybe Radmir would surprise you. Maybe he’d want to be part of Leo’s life in a positive way.”

“I can’t take that risk.” Especially if he’s what I think he is.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, watching Leo play with the easy joy that only four-year-olds can manage. He’s completely absorbed in his game, building elaborate scenarios with imaginary friends and impossible adventures.

“Danielle,” Carmen says carefully, “You said you’ve been feeling sick lately. Tired, nauseated...”

My stomach clenches, and not just from queasiness. “It’s stress.”

“When was your last period?”

The question hangs in the air between us like a bomb waiting to explode.

I try to remember, counting back through the weeks of careful avoidance and professional distance.

Eight weeks. Maybe nine. “Oh, no.” The words come out as a whisper, but there’s not as much shock as there should be.

Part of me was aware but ignored the knowledge.

There’s just been too much with which to cope lately.

She touches my hand. “We should get you tested just to be sure you aren’t...”

“I can’t be pregnant again. Not now. Not with his baby again!” I feel the edges of hysteria creeping into my voice. “I can barely handle working for him without falling apart. How am I supposed to tell him I’m carrying his child? I sure can’t hide that if he’s around.”

She makes a soothing sound. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, we find out for sure.”

Leo comes running over, his cheeks flushed from playing. “Mama, can we get ice cream?”

I look at my son, this beautiful, complicated reminder of one night that changed my life forever and try to imagine explaining to him he’s about to become a big brother under these fucked-up circumstances at a level a three-year-old can understand.

“Sure, sweetheart, but first, we need to make a quick stop.”