Claimed by the Mob Boss: A Secret Baby Mafia Romance by Bella King

Author:Bella King [King, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: After Midnight
Published: 2022-02-19T18:30:00+00:00

18

Millie

Dinner has finished up, and any coherent conversation has been slowed by the ingestion of alcohol, clearly marking the end of the night for all of us. Even though I haven’t been drinking, just being around two intoxicated individuals makes me feel a bit hazy, and I’m eager to go to bed.

But where is my bed, exactly?

It’s past one in the morning, and I’m exhausted, but I still haven’t even discussed sleeping arrangements with Viktor yet. Even though we’ve had sex, I’d hate to assume that I’m sleeping next to him and have him think I’m a presumptuous, spoiled princess because of it.

“Hey, where do you want me to sleep while I’m staying here?” I ask, clearing the table of any extra dishes and placing them into the sink.

Viktor looks at me suspiciously. “I didn’t think that was up for discussion. You’ll be staying in my room with me,” he replies, and I can feel my belly growing warm at the thought of lying next to him. The thought of having sex while pregnant does freak me out, even though I know there’s no true reason for it to bother me.

I finish cleaning up and follow him to the bedroom, still feeling nervous and uncertain of the idea of behaving like his girlfriend when we’ve hardly even spoken about what we are. I maintain a bit of a distance behind him not to seem too eager, which I sense agitates him.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asks point-blank as soon as we enter the room. He closes the door behind me, and his expression is confrontational and distrusting.

“What do you mean? I’m just trying to get adjusted to everything. We just decided I’d be staying here a few hours ago. I have to settle in a little,” I reply.

He pauses for a moment. “You and Nikolai were getting along well,” he says, and I suddenly feel as if I’m being accused of something.

“Yes, isn’t that a good thing? If he’s going to be here a lot, it makes sense for us to at least be civil, doesn’t it?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies passive-aggressively.

I wish he would just come out and say it. That way, we could fight about it and move on.

“Are you upset about something?” I ask, leaning forward and studying his scowling face. “I was just trying to be friendly. You can’t be upset with me for being nice.” I’m annoyed that he’s somewhat intoxicated. Having arguments with drunk people is always a circular battle that never ends well.

“I know you used to be a stripper,” he replies with a shrug that betrays the harshness of his words.

There it is.

My stomach drops, and my face turns white. “How the fuck do you know about that?” I ask angrily, crossing my arms over my chest as I recognize my self-consciousness at my past being exposed. I never thought I would have to explain this to anybody. That’s why I started my own business, but I guess I can’t run now.

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