Mistress to a Monster

He couldn’t allow that to happen. No child of his would ever be a fucking Russo. Grabbing his drink, he took a long swallow and relished the burn as it ran down his throat. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and tossed the ring inside.

It meant nothing.

Russo wasn’t going to win this.

Leaving his office, he made his way toward the kitchen. The new staff was busy preparing some food for dinner. He and Milah had eaten breakfast at different times. She hadn’t been in the kitchen for a couple of days, and he figured that was because of her morning sickness.

Glory had advised him that Milah didn’t want him present when she threw up. He had yet to install cameras in his own room, but he did want to be there.

Milah and his … relationship was not love. They had good sex. No, great sex, but he shouldn’t care what she was going through. This was her punishment as much as it was her father’s. Being a Russo, by extension, it made her part of it all.

She’s nothing like him.

Damon left the kitchen and asked a guard if he’d seen Milah.

“She’s headed out into the yard with that Glory maid.”

It was freezing cold outside.

Annoyed, he glared at the man, turned on his heel, and made his way out into the yard. There was no sign of her, but the guards were very much aware of who he was looking for, and they pointed in the direction where he needed to go.

He was so fucking pissed off. Glory should have known better.

He had guards stationed at different points, and each one held a finger in her direction.

Damon looked up ahead and sure enough, there was Milah, kneeling on the ground, her hands clasped together. A few feet away from her was the small cemetery. He hadn’t been here in several months.

Seeing the names of his father, mother, and grandparents. It was all just a little too much for him.

He stepped on a twig, drawing attention to his presence.

Glory immediately bowed her head. He saw the way her hands were clasped in front of her.

“Leave us,” he said.

She walked as fast as she could while Milah got to her feet, brushing off the dried, crumbled leaves.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to pay my respects.”

“You have no right to be here.”

She lifted her head, and he saw her eyes were swollen red. “I have every right to be here.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“What is with this attitude? When I left you this morning, you were fucking sated from taking a pounding from my cock!” he yelled.

Milah lashed out, her hand slapping him right across the face. “No, this morning when you left, I ran to the bathroom to fucking throw up because I am pregnant. I am having a De Luca, and you know what, I’m fucking terrified. All my life, my father has been completely against everything you have ever stood for. He is dead. Gone. His last piece to give to me, the Russo ring. You don’t even have a clue what he said to me in that message!”

“That he knows you’re going to be pregnant and give birth to another Russo heir.”

“I hate you right now.”

“You only stop hating me when you beg me for more.”

She went to hit him again, but he captured her wrist, drawing her closer.

“I allowed the first hit. Don’t think you’ll get away with another.”

Milah tried to pull away from his hold, but he had a firm grip on her. There was no escaping it until he let her go, and she knew it.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“I hate you.”

“You can hate me all you want to, princess. It’s not going to change the fact you’re pregnant with my kid.”

“And I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Do you think I’m happy about this?” he asked.

“Yes. I do.” There was fire in her eyes. “You can’t tell me this isn’t part of some wicked plan of yours. The great Damon De Luca always has some twisted scheme to play. If not, then you are foolish because this is what happens when you have unprotected sex!” She yelled the last part while also pointing at her stomach.