Pregnant For The Mafia Boss

Daisy’s POV The guy kissing my boyfriend had a tattoo of a snake curling around his neck. That’s what I noticed first. Not Eric’s hands tangled in his hair, not the sound of their mouths crashing together like they couldn’t breathe without it, just the goddamn snake, blinking at me. I stood in the doorway, holding a bag of Chinese takeout and two bottles of Thai iced tea, while my three-year relationship lit itself on fire in front of me. Eric didn’t notice me until the snake guy pulled back to catch his breath, looked up, and froze. “s**t!” Eric whispered, after tracing his eyes to me. “Daisy, wait—” The bag finally dropped. The aroma of the sticky sauce puddled mixed with the cold night’s air. I turned around and walked away, unable to grasp one emotion at hand. I walked down the hall, out of the apartment, into the September cold. Eric caught up with me outside, barefoot, shirt hanging loose like he didn’t care how I saw him now. “Daisy, please, just listen.” He pleaded as I walked even faster. He reached for my arm, and I yanked it free. “Please. You don’t understand. If my father finds out—” Damien Moretti. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d heard whispers, rumours about Eric’s family; power, danger, blood, but I’d always kept my distance. I never wanted to be part of that world or confirm it. “You lied,” I whispered. “You f*****g lied to me. For three years.” “I was trying to protect you.” He started, his voice breaking again. “My father… he wouldn’t understand.” I swallowed hard. “You should’ve trusted me enough.” He looked down, shame flooding his face. “Don’t tell anyone,” he begged. “Please.” I stepped back, tears stinging, pleading to fall, but I blinked them away. I can’t afford to get weak now. “I’m done,” I said as I turned and walked away. My hands trembled as I pushed open the door to my apartment. Three years of believing in a future, shattered in just one night. I sank onto the couch, the tears finally spilling out like a dam breaking. I thought about the years I’d spent working two jobs, balancing the night shift at the diner with mornings at the bookstore just to keep us afloat. I thought about Mom, who woke up before dawn every day to make sure my little siblings had breakfast and clean clothes. I thought about the quiet nights we dreamed about a better life. A life with Eric. And now? Who was I kidding? I was cold and alone. I spent the next days trying to pretend my life hadn’t imploded right in front of me. I went to work at the bookstore like nothing had happened, smiling at customers and restocking shelves while my stomach stayed in knots. I covered a few night shifts at the diner, pouring coffee with a hollow expression and ignoring the way my coworkers looked at me. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Lena, my best friend. Because once I said it out loud, it would be real. And I didn't want to believe it was. So I stayed quiet. But some nights like this one, I’d sit alone in the dark and ask myself How I loved someone for three years and still not know him, still not understand why he did not say he loved me back immediately I said it, still not noticed he did not kiss me with all desperation. My phone buzzed from the bedside table, startling me. A sole message, sent with a private number read ‘Meet me. Private address. 11pm tonight.’ That was all, no explanation or name or whatever. If this was a prank Eric was trying to pull on me, he failed woefully. I tried so hard not to think about it as the time ticks slowly towards 9 and then 10. I made up my mind not to cower as the hours dragged on. If I were to meet someone, then I would have to look really pretty. I was ready when the taxi horn beeped at 11:00 from my gate. The taxi man gave me a courtesy nod and drove off after I entered the vehicle. The taxi pulled up to an address I didn’t know existed in our part of town. It was a mansion surrounded by high walls and iron gates. My heart hammered in my chest as the driver opened the door silently and nodded again, like he was remote. ‘You can go in,” he finally said, and I nodded timidly. I walked inside, as my footsteps echoed down a marble hallway. I walked through heavy doors into a vast room where a shadowed figure sat in a leather chair, swirling dark liquid in a glass. Damien Moretti. I almost shrank back, intimidated. He looked up at me and smiled mischievously, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re exactly like your mother.” My breath caught. I hadn’t expected that to be his first words. “What do you want from me?” I said, summoning courage. He stood and paced around me slowly, like a lion, watching his prey. “I know everything, Daisy, about Eric, about your family, about who you really are.” I blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?” He tossed a folder onto the table. Photos, papers, and birth certificates slipped out. I tried so hard not to look. “Don Lorenzo Romano. Your real father.” He said, pointing at a particular picture I shook my head. What was he saying? “No. That’s not possible. My mom told me my father is dead.” I said defiantly. His smile twitched. “That is because she was protecting you. Listen, princess, your father is a Don. A ruthless man with dangerous plans. He intends to use you as a bargaining chip with the Russians.” “This isn’t real,” I said reluctantly. “It is. And you’re running out of time. However, I’m offering a way out.” “Why would you do that?” I asked suspiciously. “Because I need to tie our families together. It’s important for me and Eric.” He slid a contract across the table. “Marry my son, Eric. Do this and protect your family, or watch everything you care about burn.” My hands shook as I stared at the paper; the thin line between survival and surrender blurred. My phone buzzed from my back pocket and I answered absentmindedly. “Daisy Romano?” A calm voice that sounded chilling asked. ‘Yes. Who is this, please’ I asked, my voice curious and shaken. “We’re watching.” He said and ended the call. What have I gotten myself into?