Pregnant For the Mafia Boss

ISABELLA'S POV - THREE MONTHS AGO I am going to seduce Viktor Konstantin tonight, or I am going to die trying. Well, maybe not die. But the way my heart is hammering against my ribs as I crouched under his massive oak desk, I am not entirely sure I'd survive the next hour. What the hell are you doing, Bella? The rational part of my brain, the part that had gotten me a 4.0 GPA at university, screamed that this was insane. That hiding under your guardian's desk, wearing a red dress, and too much perfume was not the behavior of a grown woman. That this whole plan was ridiculous and desperate and... But I'd been desperate for three years. It has been three years since the day my father died, and Viktor Konstantin walked into my life like some dark avenging angel, all ice-blue eyes and barely contained violence. Three years since he'd stood beside me at the funeral... this stranger who was supposed to be my father's best friend, and promised to take care of me. I'd been sixteen and drowning in grief, and he'd been my lifeline. And somewhere between that funeral and my eighteenth birthday, the late-night conversations in his study and the casual touches that lingered too long, I'd fallen completely, irrevocably, hopelessly in love with him. The problem? Viktor treated me like a child. Like a little sister. Like anything except what I actually was...a woman who wanted him so badly it physically hurt. I'd tried everything. Subtle hints. Less subtle hints. That blue bikini by the pool last summer had made him leave the compound for three days. The low-cut tops. The "accidental" brushes against him. The way I'd started calling him just "Viktor" instead of "Mr. Konstantin" or worse, "Uncle Viktor"...a term that made my skin crawl when what I really wanted was to crawl into his bed. Nothing worked. He maintained that infuriating, iron-clad control. That distance that said you're forbidden, off-limits, mine to protect but never to touch. Well, f**k that. I'd gone away to university, thinking distance would help. That maybe I'd meet someone my own age, someone appropriate, someone who could make me forget about those storm-blue eyes and a voice that could freeze vodka. Instead, I'd spent two years comparing every boy I met to Viktor and finding them all lacking. Too young. Too soft. Too... not him. So I'd made a decision. I was nineteen now and legally an adult. I'd be twenty in three months. I wasn't his to guide anymore in any way that mattered. So tonight, I was coming home for semester break with one goal: make Viktor see me as a woman, not a child. Hence, the red dress, the perfume, Chanel, his favorite, the same one his dead fiancée used to wear, and hiding under his desk like some kind of deranged seductress from a bad romance novel. This is insane. This is completely insane. But I was committed now. I'd already been under here for twenty minutes, my legs are cramping, and my heart is racing from listening to the sounds of the compound settling down for the night. Viktor always came to his office before bed, every single night, without fail. It was his ritual. Check his emails. Review the day's business. Have one final glass of whiskey. And tonight, if he keeps to the schedule, he'd find me waiting. I hear footsteps in the hallway; the sound is heavy, measured, and authoritative. My breath caught. The door opened. I pressed myself against the back panel of the desk, suddenly terrified. What if this backfired? What if he was angry? What if... "I know you're in here, Isabella." His voice cut through my panic like a knife. Deep, controlled, with that slight Russian accent that got stronger when he was annoyed. Shit. The footsteps moved closer, and I could see his legs now, black dress pants, expensive Italian shoes. He sat down in the leather chair directly above me, and I was suddenly acutely aware of how close I was to his... to his... Focus, Bella. Don't lose your nerve now. "You can come out," he said, and there was something in his voice I couldn't quite read. "Or you can stay under there while I conduct my business. Your choice." Before I could decide, the door opened again. "Boss, the shipment from Prague arrived. Alexei needs you to sign off on..." Another man's voice. One of Viktor's lieutenants. "Fine. Bring me the paperwork." I froze. Oh God. He was going to make me stay under here while he worked, and people walked in and out of the office. While I was inches from his... The chair shifted slightly as Viktor leaned back. And then I felt it, his hand, dropping down between his legs, as his fingers brushed against my hair in what could have been an accident but definitely wasn't. Is it a warning? Or maybe... a challenge? My body responded before my brain could catch up. I shifted forward slightly, just enough that when I breathed, my breath ghosted across his inner thigh. Viktor went absolutely still above me. I did it again. Deliberately this time. A soft exhale that couldn't be mistaken for anything but intentional. His hand fisted in my hair, holding me in that position, maybe as a warning of what was to come, but it felt more like a promise. "The documents, sir." Papers shuffled above me. I can hear Viktor's signature, strong and controlled scribled on the paper. His voice was steady as he gave instructions, discussed numbers, and made decisions that probably involved millions of dollars or people's lives or both. And through it all, I stayed perfectly still, breathing against him, feeling the tension in his body like a living wire. Another person came in. Then another. A parade of men seeking Viktor's approval, his orders, his attention. And through it all, I waited, my knees aching, my heart racing, every breath a silent seduction. I could feel him responding. The way his thighs tensed. The subtle shift in his breathing. The heat radiating from him that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He wants me, I realized with a thrill that went straight to my core. He wants me, and he's been fighting it just as hard as I've been fighting to get his attention.