Page 24 of Mafia Pregnancy

Danielle

I wake up with my stomach churning and the bitter taste of nausea coating my mouth. The morning sickness hits harder today than it has in weeks, sending me scrambling to the bathroom, where I dry heave over the toilet for ten minutes before my stomach finally settles.

Thirteen weeks. The reminder pulses through my head as I splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth. Each day that passes brings me closer to the point where hiding this pregnancy becomes impossible.

Back in my bedroom, I pull on my work polo and reach for my khakis, but when I try to button them, the waistband won’t close. Not even close. The fabric strains across my hips and refuses to meet in the middle.

Panic flutters in my chest until I remember the hair elastic trick Carmen showed me years ago.

I loop the elastic through the buttonhole and around the button, creating just enough give to make the pants wearable.

The polo shirt covers the improvised fastening, but it’s a pointed reminder that my body is changing whether I’m ready or not.

Leo is still asleep when I peek into his room, curly hair spread across his pillow and one arm wrapped around his stuffed dinosaur.

He doesn’t have preschool today, which means I’ll drop him at Aunt Molly’s house on my way to work.

“Morning, sweetheart.” I gently shake his shoulder.

“Time to get up. You’re going to spend the day with Aunt Molly. ”

He blinks sleepily, then sits up with the sudden energy only children seem to possess. “Can we make cookies again?”

“You’ll have to ask her.” I help him into clothes and pack his backpack with toys and snacks. “Remember to be good, okay?”

“I’m always good.”

His innocent confidence makes my chest ache. He trusts me completely to make the right decisions for both of us, and lately, I’m not sure I deserve that faith.

The drive to Aunt Molly’s house passes quickly, with Leo chattering about his plans for cookie-making.

I try to match his enthusiasm, but my mind keeps drifting to job applications and the growing difficulty of hiding this pregnancy.

“I love you, baby.” I kiss his forehead as I walk him to Molly’s front door. “Be good for Aunt Molly.”

“Love you too, Mommy.”

Molly opens the door with a warm smile, but I catch her studying my face with the sharp attention she’s always had for details. “You look tired, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Just work stress.” I force a smile and hand over Leo’s backpack. “I’ll pick him up around five if that’s all right?”

“Of course. We’re going to have a wonderful day, aren’t we, Leo?”

He nods enthusiastically and disappears into the house, already asking about cookie ingredients. Molly lingers in the doorway, watching me with the expression she used to wear when I was younger and trying to hide something from her. “Danielle, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

The offer is tempting, but this situation is too complicated and dangerous to drag her into. “I know. Thank you.” I back toward my car before she can probe deeper. “I really need to get to work.”

When I arrive at the estate, Carmen is waiting in the staff kitchen with two steaming mugs. She hands me one as I hang up my jacket, and I inhale the unfamiliar scent. “What’s this?”

“Raspberry tea.” She settles into the chair beside me, lowering her voice. “I read it helps strengthen and tone the uterine muscles for an easier delivery.”

I groan softly but say, “Thank you.” I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for the thoughtfulness even as it reminds me how obvious my condition is becoming.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m running out of time.” I take a sip of the tea, surprised by how soothing it is.

“None of the agencies I approached had anything. I even checked Utah and South Dakota. Then I spent half the night applying for jobs online. There’s still nothing that pays enough or offers the schedule flexibility I need. ”

Carmen studies my face with concern. “Maybe it’s time to consider other options?”

“Such as?” I already know what she’s going to say though.

“Telling him the truth.”

I shake my head before she can continue. “We talked about this. He made his position clear when I asked him to choose.”

“That was before he knew about the children.”

Before I can reply, Mrs. Yranda appears in the kitchen doorway, clipboard in hand and lips pursed. “Danielle, there’s been a change to your assignments. You’ll be cleaning Mr. Vetrov’s office this morning.”

My stomach drops. “Is everything all right? Did I do something wrong yesterday?”

“Nothing wrong at all. He specifically requested you handle his office today.” She makes a note on her clipboard. “He’s expecting you at eight-thirty.”

Carmen shoots me a look of barely concealed alarm as Mrs. Yranda bustles away.

We both know Radmir requesting me specifically is unusual, especially after our confrontation.

The walk to his office feels endless, and the cleaning supplies become heavier with each step.

I knock softly on the heavy wooden door and wait for his response.

“Come in.”

I push open the door to find him seated at his desk, staring at the far wall like he hasn’t moved in hours. His hair is disheveled, his usually pristine shirt wrinkled, and there’s a coffee cup beside his elbow that looks like it’s been sitting there since yesterday.

“Good morning, Mr. Vetrov.” I keep my voice professionally neutral as I set down my supplies. “I’ll try not to disturb you.”

He doesn’t respond or even acknowledge my presence. The tension in the room is like cold maple syrup, and I steal glances at him as I work.

Finally, he sighs heavily and rubs the back of his neck with both hands. The gesture looks exhausted, defeated in a way I’ve never seen from him before.

“Rough day?” I ask, then immediately regret the casual tone. “I mean, rough morning. It’s only eight-thirty.”

He looks at me, something sharp and dangerous flickering in his expression. For a moment, I think he’s going to snap at me for overstepping boundaries. Instead, his features soften into something almost vulnerable.

“You know, you’d probably scare fewer people if you looked like you actually had emotions,” I continue, unable to stop myself from pushing just a little.

To my surprise, he almost smiles. “Maybe I don’t want to scare fewer people.”

I smile. “Everyone needs to scare fewer people sometimes.”

“Do they?”

I stop dusting his bookshelf and turn to face him properly. “What’s wrong? You look like you haven’t slept.”

For a long moment, he just studies my face like he’s trying to see what’s in my head. When he finally speaks, his voice is rougher than usual.

“There was someone I once trusted…”

Guilt crashes over me like a wave. He must be talking about the secrets I’m keeping, and the way I’ve been lying to him for months. My hand moves instinctively to my stomach before I catch myself and let it drop.

He continues before I can do or say something stupid. “He wanted what I had and didn’t care who got hurt in the process.” The bitterness in his tone makes me flinch. “He’s causing problems for me now.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure if I’m apologizing for his situation or my own deception.

“Luca always was ambitious.” The name comes out like a curse. “He wanted to build something bigger and faster, without regard for consequences. When I wouldn’t go along with his plans, he decided to build it anyway.”

Relief floods through me as I realize he’s not talking about me at all. This is something else entirely, something from his past that’s affecting his present. “What kind of consequences?”

“The kind that get people killed.” He leans back in his chair, looking older than his thirty-six years. “The kind that make you question whether anything you’ve built is worth the cost.”

His honesty surprises me. This isn’t the unreadable man for whom I’ve been working. This is someone carrying weight he can’t share with anyone else.

“Sounds like you’re paying a price for someone else’s choices.”

“Aren’t we all?”

The question hangs between us, loaded with meaning I don’t fully understand. I want to ask more, to understand what’s driving the exhaustion in his voice, but I’m afraid to.

“Sometimes I think this world costs too much,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “Too much time, too much blood, and leaves too many people you can’t protect.”

The vulnerability in his voice stops me cold.

It strikes me that he’s lonely, isolated by choices that seemed right at the time but feel heavier with each passing year.

For the first time since I learned who he really was, I see past the danger and the power to the person underneath, who built walls to protect himself and ended up trapped behind them.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” I say softly.

He looks at me sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe there are other ways to live. Other choices you could make.”

“Such as?”

The question opens a door I’m not sure I’m brave enough to walk through. This is the moment Carmen has been pushing me toward, offering me the chance to tell him about Leo, the baby, and the life we could build together if he’s willing to walk away from the darkness.

I open my mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth that’s been eating me alive for months. The words are right there, balanced on the tip of my tongue, when the office door creaks open.

Andrei steps into the room, his pale gaze sweeping from Radmir to me with cool assessment. I immediately lower my gaze and return to my cleaning, but I can feel his attention like a weight on my shoulders.

“We need to talk,” says Andrei, his voice carrying an edge I recognize from our previous encounter about confidentiality.

“Can it wait?” Radmir’s tone suggests he’d rather not be interrupted.

“I’m afraid not.”