The Mafia's Fake Wife: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance by Bella King

Author:Bella King [King, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: After Midnight LLC
Published: 2025-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

19

Elena

Iwake up before dawn, my stomach churning with a familiar nausea that’s been plaguing me for the past week. Damir’s arm across my waist feels heavier than usual as I carefully slide out from beneath it. He stirs slightly, mumbling something in Russian before rolling onto his other side.

I tiptoe to the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click before turning on the light. The marble floor is cold against my bare feet as I lean against the counter, studying my reflection in the mirror. My face looks the same with dark circles under my eyes from hospital shifts, but otherwise normal. Yet something inside me has changed.

I’ve been a medical student long enough to recognize the signs. The nausea. The fatigue. The tenderness in my breasts. The missed periods that I’ve been trying to convince myself are just stress.

My hands shake as I lift my phone to dial Liv’s number, praying she hasn’t gone to bed yet after finishing her night shift. She answers on the third ring, yawning. “Elena? What’s wrong?”

I turn on the shower to mask my voice, sitting on the edge of the massive bathtub. “I think I might be pregnant,” I whisper, the words feeling strange on my tongue.

The line goes silent for a moment. She’s probably suppressing the urge to say something like “Duh” since she tried to bring it up to me yesterday evening. “Have you taken a test?”

“No.” I rub my temples. “How the hell am I supposed to get one? Damir’s men don’t let me go anywhere alone.”

“Not even to buy personal items?”

“They follow me everywhere. Into stores, restaurants, and even waiting outside bathroom stalls sometimes. Valeriya can go anywhere I can go.” I pace the length of the bathroom, keeping my voice low. “I can’t exactly grab a pregnancy test with Valeriya or Fydor watching my every move.”

Liv is quiet for a moment, then I hear her snap her fingers. “Tell them you need tampons.”

I stop pacing. “What?”

“Tampons. No man wants to discuss feminine hygiene products. Tell them you need to go to the store for tampons, and they’ll be so uncomfortable, they’ll give you space.”

The simplicity of it makes me laugh despite my anxiety. “That’s actually brilliant. If Valeriya offers, I can tell her I need to pick the brand myself. She’ll understand that.”

“I know,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “So, what’s the plan if you are pregnant? Are you going to tell Damir?”

I sink back down onto the edge of the tub. “I don’t know. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We’ve been careful.” Mostly careful, I correct mentally, thinking of a few passionate encounters where protection hadn’t been our first priority.

“Elena, you need to think about what you want. This is your body and your choice.”

“I know that. I just...” I trail off, hearing movement in the bedroom. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

I hang up quickly, turning off the shower and splashing water on my face to explain

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