The Mafia's Desires: She Returns With a Baby in Christmas

***Don Dean's POV*** "Don, a woman is here to see you.” Dean sat behind his desk in his office and lifted his eyes at the thug. He dragged a long one and let the smoke dissipate into the air. "A woman? She walked in here and she's still standing? I put you in charge because Arturo is not around. Do you know your job? Blow her brains off if she's of no use." "She said she has your child, boss,” the thug spoke. Dean's hand tightened around the weed. "My child?" "Yes, boss." "Bring her in," Dean ordered. He stood, killed his weed on the ashtray and his mind strolled back and forth. His child? It was impossible. After the explosion that had ravaged his testis two years ago, he'd been told he might never father a child. He couldn't remember a single woman who could possibly have carried his child. He was a ghost, a shadow, a man who lived in the shadows, not in the light of a family. His life was a blur of deals, crime, drugs, guns, betrayals, and the constant threat of violence from guys who wanted to get rid of him. He paced across the room with his hands clenched into fists. And then, the door opened and a woman walked in. She was tall, lean, and looked innocent. Her black jeans and jacket clung to her body, highlighting her sharp curves. Her eyes were dark and superficial with a haunted beauty that seemed to reflect the ugly side of the world she had seen. The thug cleared his throat. "Here she is, boss." "You say you have my child?" The woman took a step forward. "I do." Dean's mind raced, searching for an answer, a clue, an explanation. Who was this woman? How could she claim to hold his child? ***Fiona's POV*** The man before me was Dean Moore. I could still remember the face although etched with the years. He had the same predatory gleam I’d seen in high school. The same sneer that had always made my stomach clench. He hadn’t changed. The violence still simmered in his blood. It wasn’t a miracle he’d become a kingpin, it was his destiny. “Who are you?” he asked. The question jolted me back to the present, reminding me of the razor-thin line I was walking. “Fiona Walker. Remember the name,” I replied. “I know no Fiona.” His eyes narrowed and he grabbed my shoulders, his grip tight. “So tell me, what’s your plan? Who sent you? Talk and you will live.” “Don, she is either a spy or a w***e. Let me kill her,” the thug that brought me in spoke and pointed a gun at my head. I knew it would turn out like this but I was prepared. As long as I was allowed to speak, I had a chance. “You kill me now, you won't get to see your child ever again.” Dean’s grip tightened, shaking me. “Tell me who the f**k you are.” “You never change, do you? Same as you were back then. Well, I’m Fiona Walker, from high school, Summerville University. The girl you slept with at prom night while you were drunk. You woke up in the middle of the night and kicked me out of bed with hatred. I carried that pregnancy and gave birth to a child. Do you still want your thug to blow my brains out?” The smirk on Dean’s face vanished and was replaced by a flicker of recognition, then a growing pallor. He stared at me and heaved heavily. I pushed him away now that he was sombre. It was my turn to smile. “So you remember? Well, I really don't know who owns the baby. Don’t be happy just yet.” “What do you mean?” He asked. “Remember that night? Ethan wanted to kill you so bad. He came to your room and thought I was your girlfriend. He…raped me. Raw. So, maybe you, maybe him.” Dean choked. He fumbled in his jacket and lowered his tie. In the respite that followed, he pulled out a golden revolver. I thought he would threaten me, but I heard a gunshot. It was the first time a gun would be fired at a close range, and I ducked. When I opened my eyes, the thug next to me was on the floor. Dean had shot him in the head. “You see,” Dean said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ve been the baddest motherfucker this city has ever seen. First, you will tell me where the child is. Secondly, you won’t tell a soul about that night. Not a word.” My heart pounded in my chest but I fought to maintain my composure. I had to stay in control. It was my script and I had to lead the role if I wanted it to play out in my way. If I wanted to win. It was clear that he needed the baby. He needed to know where the child was. “You’ll kill me? Do that, and you’ll never know,” I said, rising to my feet. I immediately shrugged off the fear of the gunshot and the fact that he could kill me. Dean's eyes narrowed as he lowered the gun. “What do you want?” “Make it up to me,” I answered. “I raised the child alone.” Dean lunged at me and immediately shoved the gun against my jaw again. “Don’t play games with me. Now, where is the baby?” “Since you’re so violent with me, I guess I’ll just go to Ethan Knight. Maybe he’ll treat me right,” I countered. Dean paced across the room again. Then, he slowly approached me. “You don’t have to. I’ll do whatever you want. Okay?.” I looked at him. Finally, the power I held was palpable. I had him exactly where I wanted him. Money was all I initially sought, but I learned something merely by looking at him. I wasn’t just going to take his money, I was going to make him suffer. “Fiona!” he blurted. “What do I have to do to get my child?” “Everything. First, take me to your house,” I answered. He was a bully five years ago at University. Now a mafia boss. He had just killed someone right before me. But I wasn't scared. He was in my hands now, and I would make him pay.