Page 45 of Beautiful Broken Obsession

“Why do you need to go to the doctor?” Is there concern in his voice?No, don’t believe it.He’s just worried about his plans.

“I got the birth control implant in my arm when I went to school. The whole college experience thing. If you want me pregnant it needs to come out because it’s good for five years. I’ll make the appointment for tomorrow.” I pull out my phone and go online to my doctor’s office. Shit, they don’t have any appointments for this entire week.

“You’ll go see my family’s physician. She is always available when I want to see her,” Milos tells me.

Fear twists my gut at him knowing why I’m really going. “No, I’ll go to my doctor. A mafia doctor is—”

“She isn’t. She treats my mother and our female staff when needed. You will not see the Bratva doctor. He is for gunshots, stab wounds, and the like. No man is allowed to touch you, even if they need to treat you. The only reason he did that time was because your treatment mattered more than a man touching you and seeing you naked.”

A blush hits me. “You’re ridiculous. I can’t have a male doctor? That’s what the order is about not to touch me…no man is allowed to even touch me. Possessive much?”

“Extremely. Do not forget it. You allow a man to touch you and you are signing their death warrant, and you will be punished as well.” The words are hard, rough from a darkness that is pure mafia—death, destruction, power. He means it. He will kill another man for simply touching me, because I belong to him.

Something is wrong with me for my stomach to twist at the words—not in fear but in arousal. I didn’t even realize the car had stopped when my door is opened. Sliding out I’m blind to everything but the promise in his eyes of death to anyone who dares to touch me.

His hand is on my lower back, and I hate the way I jump at the touch—still there, that damn electricity that hasn’t even faded in more than four years. He chuckles as he guides me forward.

Peter is close behind us as we walk for what feels like forever before we are in a quiet corner on the third floor. A pretty pregnant woman with long dark hair is waiting in front of a long rack of clothing.

She smiles as we get closer. “Hello, lovely to meet you. I’m Lydia Holt.”

Milos smiles down at her as he takes her hand. Is it really necessary to kiss her hand? “Milos Levin. Thank you for your assistance today. Dominic spoke highly of you. He failed to mention your beauty was as brilliant as your ability to select the best for my fiancée.”

I want to smack her when she giggles. “Russians…wow. I thought the Sabatini men were something. You are a lucky girl,” she says to me as she finally lets go of his hand. “Dominic mentioned you’re Carlo’s daughter. My apologies. At least you’re better off in the husband department.”

Tugging my hand, she flashes a grin at Milos that I hate her for. She nods her head to a waiting chair. “There’s scotch and vodka because I wasn’t sure which you would prefer. We’ll be back to knock your socks off.”

It isn’t until we’re inside an enormous dressing room the size of a studio apartment that Lydia lets go of me. The room is amazing, with a silk chaise lounge, a leather chair, a mini-fridge, and a three way of mirrors with a single mirror on the opposite wall.

“God, girly, I took the appointment for Dominic but I’m so glad I did. I’ve never met Milos before but he was at the same fundraiser my husband dragged me too. He seemed so scary I wasn’t sure I could have told him yes if he was the one who reached out. I mean Tony Sabatini is scary hot, but Milos just seemed scary as fuck.” Her shiver isn’t exaggerated, it’s from memory.

“When I found out he was mafia I was not surprised at all. The poor girl who was with him was trying so hard to keep his attention, and he didn’t even know her name. Her name was Natalie. He kept calling her Carol. I never in my life thought he would marry. But men…I think it’s better when they never see it coming and they get swept up in it.”

I hate the way she mentions Milos with another woman. It’s also weird how I resent her fear of him. Yes, Milos could be scary, but he would never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I want to tell her to please stop talking about other women and Milos. Of course I know he’s been with probably half of the blonde bombshells in Chicago, but I still don’t want to think of it.

“I don’t understand anything you just said.”

Tilting her head, she studies me. “Milos Levin falling in love. I always love when big, strong powerful men are felled by the love bug. It’s way more awesome than gushy love. Half the time they are fighting it like mad, and watching them give in…” She sighs. “It’s awesome.”

I don’t care if Dominic Sabatini likes her. This woman is out of her mind. “Milos doesn’t love me. This is an arranged marriage for our families to be tied together.”

She giggles. “Okay. Except he spent an hour on the phone with me last night talking about everything he wanted to see you in. I would never have believed the man knew what an A-line dress is. I had no idea he was the client I helped all those years ago. He told me last night he liked the things I selected for you before. He'd called the store and placed an order. Back then I was still here pretty much full time. I never spoke with him, just took the order for the size and what he wanted. I thought it was a woman who didn’t want to come into the store. Then I see him looking down at you like he wants to eat you right in front of everyone. If you aren’t pregnant yet, you will be. Hell, if I weren’t pregnant I think I would be after watching him looking at you the way he did.”

Now I’m blushing. Milos on the phone for an hour—for me. Maybe she isn’t out of her mind, it just sounds bizarre to me. Rubbing a hand over her belly, she sighs. “He mentioned he wanted a few dresses for once you’re pregnant. So I have a few babydolls for you. The good thing is he’s not cheap. My favorite words are ‘cost is not a consideration.’ Many of these will be classics you can keep for a season or two. You look great in that dress even though it’s almost three years old. Now let’s get started. Milos gave me a ton of direction like I said. But I want to hear from you. What do you like to wear? What are you comfortable in?”

The next fewhours have my head spinning. All the clothes are beautiful. They don’t just fit my body. They fit me in what I felt comfortable in and what I liked to wear in a way that kind of blew my mind. Not a single item is something I didn’t want to wear. I love everything.

Almost as much as I love Lydia—she is so nice and sweet. Halfway through she slips me her number so we can go out to lunch before she has her baby. Admitting once she has her baby girl she’ll have four children, a nanny, and a sweet, supportive husband, but it’s likely she won’t be able to get out often. So call her soon, she tells me, so we can get together.

Milos is incredibly patient. A few times he growls, though, when Lydia sends me out in something he deems too tight or sexy. I don’t argue with him until I get to a pretty pink sheer illusion dress with sparkles across my breasts.

“Please, Milos. I love it so much,” I plead.

An eyebrow goes up. “No. No one will see you in that dress. There is a reason Peter is at the elevator.”

“God, you’re such a massive asshole.” All at once I’m pissed at him. Fuck him. I’ll buy the damn thing myself. I’m not a doll he gets to dress up the way he wants. I slam the door of the dressing room so hard it rattles in the frame.

Lydia sighs. “Careful, girlie, push too hard and—”

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