Page 42 of Mafia Pregnancy

“Some things are more important than business.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and I’m surprised to realize I mean them. For fifteen years, business has been everything. Profit, power, territory, and respect have been my only priorities. The idea that a little boy I’ve never met could matter more than customs inspectors and shipping routes should be absurd.

It’s not.

“Since when?” Andrei’s question carries genuine curiosity along with the challenge.

“Since now.”

“And if I disagree?”

“Then you disagree, but the order stands.”

His tone shifts back to a more professional one. “I’ll have our security team start with school records, birth certificates, and medical records if I can access them. Full background on the child and any listed guardians or family members.”

“No. I want this handled discreetly. You have to do it.”

He hesitates. “I suppose I’m glad you trust me enough for that. Very well. I’ll focus on this if you can please put your attention to the customs matter?”

I ignore the second part of is response. “How long until you have answers?”

“Forty-eight hours for comprehensive information but less if you just want confirmation of parentage.”

“I want everything.”

“And the customs situation?”

I close my eyes, weighing risks and consequences. Letting Luca gain influence with Inspector Rodriguez could cost us millions in lost shipments and create vulnerabilities we can’t afford. Ignoring the threat goes against every business instinct I’ve developed. “I’ll handle it. We’ll start with monitoring Rodriguez, but don’t approach him yet. I want to see what Luca’s play is before we make our move.”

“That’s risky.”

I give a laugh edged with bitterness. “Everything we do is risky.”

Andrei is silent for a moment. “Some risks are needed. This feels personal.”

He’s right, and we both know it. The smart play would be to handle the customs issue immediately and investigate the boy as a secondary priority. The fact that I’m doing the opposite by putting my best man on finding information about the boy instead of handling Rodriguez proves my judgment is compromised.

I don’t care. “Find out what you can about the boy. Remember, total discretion. No one else knows about this until I decide what to do with the information.”

“Of course.”

The line goes dead, leaving me alone in my office with a head full of questions and a growing need for answers. If that boy ismy son, then Danielle has been lying to me for months. Years, though I can’t be too angry for her if she didn’t tell me back then. I lied about my name, making it impossible for her to find me.

She’s worked for me over three months now, so she’s had plenty of time to tell me. I’m furious about her keeping that from me once we were reunited if he’s mine.

If he’s not mine, the possessiveness I felt watching her with him reveals feelings I haven’t allowed myself to acknowledge. Either way, everything changes after I get Andrei’s report.

After sending a message to two of my men who work in the port area, asking them to monitor Rodriguez and anyone approaching him, I walk to the window overlooking the estate’s grounds, watching the gardening crew tend to the landscaping. Everything in my world runs on schedules and systems. It’s all perfect.

Children, from what I understand, represent the opposite of that. They’re unpredictable, demanding, and messy in ways that don’t respond to logic. The thought should worry me more than it actually does.

Chaos is coming, but I’m still calm.

Feeling regret for how I handled the situation with Andrei, though not my priorities, I pull out my phone to text: “Thank you.” The two-word acknowledgment costs me nothing, but he’ll understand what it means. I’m asking him to help me navigate something completely outside our usual operations, and I’m grateful for his willingness to follow my lead even when he disagrees with my judgment.

I have up to two days of waiting to learn if that boy is mine, and that much time to decide what I’ll do with the answer if he is.

The irony isn’t lost on me. Earlier in the week, Danielle asked me to choose between her and my business. I told her I couldn’t walk away from the life I’ve built. Now, faced with the possibility I might be a father, I’m discovering some choices make themselves.

---