Knocked Up by the Mob Boss - A Mafia Romance

he threat isn't a mystery. There is a clear action and cons

looks down at the floor. "Yo

have to want it, Mikhail.

s side before I can even jerk back in surprise. He leaned forward, his palms flat on m

straight into his. To anyone walking by, it would look like I was lo

he leans forward until his n

k. Y

ed for years. Mikhail wants my sympathy. He wants me to feel bad for him, but he doesn't want t

d the women who cling to him because he pays for them to get high. He knows this life will kill him if he doesn't ge

nything, he moves to sit down, but remembers he threw his chair. He looks sheepish as he pick

nd his own needs and wants. Even if he does get clean, he won't be the kind of b

we seem to be the only people

see that my words are breaking t

ay, waving a hand at his stained clothes and bloods

re white. Then, he looks at me out of the

abou

front of him, elbows resting

the edge, legs crossed at the ankles. "I've always seen my brother. My twin. And I

up towards the ceiling, and I know he is fighting back te

mily isn't enou

tired I was. Now, exhaustion seeps into my bon

"That's why you don't get it, Alek. I

s victim act anymore. How he can think he has been alone w

lf. "No one knows how it feels to need what I need. No one ge

l conversation about his issues. And I can see that Mikhail wants me to get it.

understand you," I say firmly. "But

I need. I need you t

er. I check the watch at my wrist and realize, suddenly, I need to be

ing and walking back around my desk. I grab my j

"Rehab does

t shows you are trying. It shows that you care. Go and

long enough to clean himself up properly, and I can t

ur conditio

rove to me you're serious. Then, I'll stand

n. We have the same face, which makes him incredibly e

I'm leaving first thing in the morning to oversee a weapons shi

Mikhail turns around, I can see his blue eyes shining in the light from the hallway.

I ask when he reaches

doesn't turn around. I shut the door to my office

pte

O

ry passing outside the window. She hasn't looked at me since we pulled out of the

er a few months before, when my mother was mired in a dark pit of grief. And certainly not when I would h

in the tight space of the car, filling every crev

hums in

black and white sonogram image sitting in the cup holder. "

an expressionless mask. Her lips, which only a few months ago were con

sk. "When you were pregnant, I mean?

er voice filled with a playfuln

w her arm across the console, her mouth tighte