A Hidden Pregnancy and the Mafia Boss Who Swore to Destroy Her Past
The silence of the massive estate felt heavy, pressing down on my chest until it was hard to breathe.
I thought of Dante’s dark, searching eyes, the way he looked at me as if he could see every secret I carried.
He had protected me from Marcus’s creditors, but I knew his protection came with a price.
Eventually, his patience would run out, and he would demand answers I wasn’t ready to give.
I had to protect my child first.
I stood up and smoothed down my sweater, trying to stop the trembling in my knees.
My hands were cold, shaking so hard I had to ball them into fists.
I checked the hallway through the narrow crack of my bedroom door.
The long corridor of the east wing was empty.
The brass sconces on the walls cast a warm, flickering light over the dark wooden floorboards.
I stepped out, closing the door behind me with a soft, nearly silent click.
My bare feet made no sound on the thick oriental runner carpets.
I walked toward the west wing, where Dante’s private quarters and study were located.