Ruthless Empire: A Dark Mafia Collection

I stood there in the cottage suite’s bathroom clutching the small paper bag to my chest. Inside was a hot pink box that I hadn’t gotten brave enough to open yet. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, only then realizing I’d grown as pale as a sheet.

“This is just a fluke,” I said out loud, as if saying it would make it true. “A fluke.”

I said this probably twenty-five more times before I felt calm enough to proceed. Then I took the box out of the bag and read the instructions. It was fairly self-explanatory. Step one: urinate on the stick for five seconds. Step two: wait three minutes. Step three: two lines mean pregnant while one line means not pregnant. Easy squeezy lemon peasy.

Except I couldn’t quit shaking.

Okay, nothing to do but try it out.

I did what I was supposed to do and then went to the kitchenette because there was a timer built into

the stove. The three minutes seemed to take a year to pass. It was as if time stopped altogether. Yet, when the timer went off, I didn’t feel ready to check the result. This was all so overwhelming. I didn’t want to be alone doing such a thing.

Didn’t most women going through this have their man standing by?

But I couldn’t think about that whole other can of worms. I had to focus.

Taking a deep breath, and then one more, I looked at the test. Two lines, though one was fainter than the other. What did that mean? It didn’t say anything about faint lines. There were two more tests in the box, so I took both of them simultaneously. Then, I sat in the kitchen floor to wait. The waiting wasn’t any easier that time, but the results appeared much clearer.

Two obvious pink lines.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant.

Oh my God.

I was still sitting there an hour later when someone came and banged on the front door of the suite. It scared me half to death. In all the time that I’d been here either with Marco or by myself, no one had come by except when he had specifically called them for delivery food or something. On our way to work, Marco would also contact Vinnie so the place would be cleaned while we were gone, but otherwise, we’d never been disturbed.

So who could this be?

Whoever it was knocked again, louder this time, and I scrambled up to my feet. I opened the door to a handsome man in a suit, the well-kept scruff on his face just a smidgen too short to call a beard. As I studied him, I realized he had Marco’s nose and very similar eyes. Was this a member of his family?

“Hello?” I said to the man.

“Yes, I’m looking for Kelly Carr.”

The thought occurred to me that I could be in danger. Marco’s family were criminals, mobsters, so wouldn’t being near them be dangerous? Of course, I’d never once felt like being around Marco was dangerous. He’d made me feel safe and secure. But still.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Luca Varasso,” the man answered without compunction. “I’m here to deliver a letter to her.”

I stared into his face, at those eyes that were so familiar and yet different. This man’s—Luca’s—eyes seemed older. Wearier. As if he frequently bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t strike me as some nefarious criminal, but obviously, I wasn’t the best judge of such things.

Still, I felt curious about this letter. When I’d left Marco at the police station, it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. I’d been upset and angry. Freaked out. And I knew what I’d said had hurt him, even though my last words had still been “I love you.” Ultimately, I decided I couldn’t not know what he’d wanted to write to me.

“Um, yes. I… I’m Kelly.”

Silently, he handed over the letter. I reached for it, only then realizing I held two pregnancy tests in my hand. I thrust them behind my back.

“Are you all right, Kelly? You seem… distressed.”

Distressed? Who me?

Just because I discovered the man I love was lying to me and was a mobster from a family of mobsters instead of a legitimate business owner? Just because I found out he was having me launder money without my knowledge?

Just because that man was now almost certainly going to prison because I agreed to spy on him? Just because I’d then broken that man’s heart by telling him it was over? Just because about an hour ago I discovered I was pregnant with that same man’s child?