Valentine's Gift; The Mafia King's Secret Baby

Brianna's POV “Dear Lord, please.” I gasp. My face is a mess of red curls, my heartbeat is spiked, and my trembling hand is clutching a small syringe. Stab. “No, no, not again.” Anxious, my words come out mangled. I clutch tightly around the small syringe, pushing the plunger inward and delivering the 0.2ml dose of Apomorphine. After the simultaneous click of the multiple-dose APOKYN pen, it falls from my trembling hand and clatters out of sight. I remain seated on the floor, with visibly trembling limbs, awaiting the effect of the injection. My hand covers my stomach, the exact spot where I had stabbed, and manage to apply pressure to ease the slight bleeding. The rise of bile in my throat and the sudden dizziness accompany the stilling of my restlessness. The messy side effect of the drug is something I have to deal with. Barely keeping up with the expensive medications, my Parkinson’s seems to have worsened, with random crises; bolts of tremors, and restless syndrome. Exhausted, I fall to the side and remain still on the cold floor, slowly drifting asleep. I don't know how long I slept off, but the incessant beeping of my alarm has my eyelashes flicking lazily, and my limbs sprawling in a weird yawn. It's already past 6: 30 AM, and work resumes by 8. Just great. Thankfully, the tremor is gone, so I sit up properly and first reach out for my phone at a distance to switch off the annoying alarm. In need of an escape, I click Spotify on my iPhone and nod gently to the booming music from my speaker. Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like on A-Jupiter and Mars In other words, hold my hand In other words, baby, kiss me The collab by Count Basie and Frank Sinatra sets me in the mood every freaking time. In roughly ten minutes, I pick up my pieces and head to the shower, getting ready for the day. It's the quickest bath I've had in ages. I shrug into my black uniform, polo and jeans, before rushing out to catch the next bus. Life as a receptionist at Morison Hotel isn't all blissful, with aggressive clients who think they own the air you breathe. The perfect description of life isn't a bed of roses. "Someone finally shows up!" Regina exclaims as she toys with her lollipop. It's her ritual every Monday, her take on the Monday madness. She smiles sheepishly immediately I walk past the transparent automatic door and into the reception area that's very large and exquisite... It's a five-star hotel after all. "I'm only twenty minutes late, you sound like I'm stuck in a time machine.” I chuckle. “You won't be saying this for long if you realize the manager came in about five minutes ago to take a heads count.” "Eff!" I sigh. "There's nothing f*****g about being late...” Regina mocks. "Well, I told a smart lie, don't panic.” “Oh dear.” I rush over the counter and wrap her in a smoldering hug. "You’re a job-saver.” "A life saver actually.” She teases. We're colleagues turned friends, then besties and sisters... Regina is a sweetheart. “I'll be back shortly.” I hurry to the staff quarters and hang my bag on the strip of hooks near the door before returning to Regina's side. “Any luck?” I press my lips together, thinking of the best response. It's been over a week since Jack, my boyfriend, disappeared, after taking a one-thousand-five-hundred-dollar loan with me as a shortee. Throughout the weekend, my phone rang nonstop from his creditors. There is the overdue mortgage, utility bills, and a hundred dollars' worth of drugs to keep my Parkinson’s ugly head at bay. “Hey.” She sucks on her lollipop and nudges my shoulder. "Not yet.” "You should move on.” She says her bitter truth. “His number isn't switched off, I guess he needs some time...” "Can you stop making up excuses for him and be realistic?" "Regina being optimistic isn't being unrealistic...” A blonde walks in and stops in front of us. She's classy and beautiful, which is something all the clients have in common. "Good morning, welcome to Morison’s hotel. How can I be of service to you?” I recite our mantra. "My secretary booked a room.” She ignores my pleasantries. "Emilian Asher.” "A minute, please.” I type her name on my desktop before meeting her gaze. "Room 105.” I drop the green card on the counter. The classy blonde picks it up with neatly manicured hands and waits, in need of further directions. "Walk down the hallway...” I trail off, noticing the gentle trembling of my hand. In haste, I drop it beside me and try to act normal even though it feels like I will slump. Quite pissed, she furrows her brows and shoots me a stern gaze. “Walk down the hallway, take your left.” Regina completes the directions on my behalf. We watch quietly as she leaves and the chauffeur wheels her luggage after her. "Brianna?" She looks at me, demanding an explanation. "I'm fine.” I lie through my teeth. Not convinced, she looks at me keenly and her orbs dilate in terror. “My poor baby, you got another attack?” She pouts. I wipe my teary eyes, trying my best not to break down. It's hard enough that I just took my last injection and I can't afford another just yet. “We should keep that devil's name off of our lips, he's bad luck.” I chuckle and obey even though we both know Jack has nothing to do with this. “Your most expensive suite.” A rich baritone has me leaping. “Good morning, welcome to...” I swallow my saliva, which's now a hard nut in my throat. His piercing deep blue eyes drown me in their depths. I bat my lids, drinking his alluring features; thin sexy lips with well-defined edges, chiseled jaws with high cheekbones, and a sharp nose. His well-tailored suits accentuate his powerful and confident demeanor, coupled with his cologne that reeks of class from miles away. "Are you in the habit of gawking at clients?" "I'm sorry, sir.” I stutter and hurry back to my computer, hoping to remember what he asked for. He slips his black debit card over the counter and I tighten a silly gasp. He's definitely from the old money... a stinky rich CEO.