Page 46 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

The answer is simplicity itself. Because everything he’s done has been to protect me and our child.

I leap to my feet when the door opens, but it’s not Christian. A figure slips inside, the door closing a moment later.

“There are no cameras in here,” a woman whispers in my ear. I recognize the voice. “You can talk.”

“Bella?”

She takes my hand. “I promised your mother I would help you. I remained behind when she left. We feared this day would come. I helped bring you into the world, Keira.”

She presses a thick roll of banknotes into my hand. “You deserve to live. To be free. The window in the study is open. Once you’re out, you can make a run for it.

“There’s a spot by the back wall with a stone pine growing close enough for you to jump over. Hail a cab, get to the bus station, and take a trip out of the country. Whatever you need to do to start again.”

“Thank you,” I reply. “Do you know what’s happening to Salvatore?”

“He and his brothers will die. There’s nothing you can do for them. You have to get out of here while he’s distracted. Come on, we need to move.”

She pulls me over to the door. “You ready?” she asks.

“Let’s do this.”

We walk out and up the steps. She pauses at the top, looking around. “In there,” she says, pointing at a door on the far side of the corridor. “Good luck.”

Then she’s gone. I pocket the money, cross the corridor, and duck into the study, pushing the door closed behind me.

In front of me, there’s a desk with a gun laid on it. I presume I’m supposed to take it with me, take out any guards who spot me.

I pick up the gun and look at the open window. Somewhere in the house, my husband is being held, about to die. I could leave him to his fate.

Walk away and do what I told myself I would, what seems like a lifetime ago now.

Become a single parent, have nothing to do with the mafia, and not be involved in a world of violence and kidnapping any longer.

Or I could make the stupidest decision of my life. I could go find him, and walk back into almost certain death. I shouldn’t do it. I should do what I must to protect my baby.

I cross to the window and climb out, the gun gripped tightly in my hand, ready to fire. I can see the tree Bella was talking about.

Right there in front of me.

Thirty seconds to reach it, and then I’m free.

Less than a minute to leave all of this behind forever.

18

Salvatore

Christian slaps me across the face, but I barely feel it. “If you’re going to hit me,” I say, “do it with some force, you pussy.”

“You shouldn't be so cocky,” he replies. “Your little woman is down in my basement aching for my touch. If you’re lucky, I might let you watch.”

He slaps me again. “Ooh, that felt good.”

“My wife slaps harder than you.”

He punches me in the face. It’s like being hit by a dying fly.

“How the fuck did you take over with punches like that?” I ask.

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