Page 17 of Baby Bump for the Mafia Boss

“An immaculate conception,” he drawls. “You’re good, but you’re not that good. Who is it, and why isn’t he here?”

He is here.

I grit my teeth. Sometimes this man is infuriating, but I will not be steamrollered by him.

“Might as well be divine intervention, because it’s none of your business.” My voice emerges stronger than I’d have thought, given I’m a crumpled paper bag inside. “I only need some time off to have the baby, and flexible working hours when I return.”

“You’remyPA. Tell me who the father is.” He’s glaring at me.

“I don’t have to.” I’m quivering because I’m so angry. My baby deserves better from her father. “And I’m not your PA anymore. You reallocated me.”

“Miss Oliver,” he snarls.

He’s not calling me princess, now, and it’s a stab in the gut.

“This is not some bratva issue that you can fix with a murder. It’s my baby.” I emphasise the possessive. He doesn’t want it,and I do. And I’m going to ensure that my baby is loved and knows they’re wanted. If that means a white lie or two? It’s a price I’ll pay.

“You don’t have a man in your life.” He states it as fact, but I feel the question.

“No. I don’t.” I have my grumpy, difficult, stunning boss. But I only had him the way I want him for one night.

“I will kill him if he hurt you,” he snarls.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That’s not necessary.”

“Tell me.” He’s on his feet now, towering his stupidly tall height over me. He’s intimidating, but if I can eat for two, I can have courage for two.

“So you can kill him?” I smirk at my private joke. “I think not.”

Dane swears colourfully under his breath. Shoving his chair away, he stomps to the window that overlooks the blue waters of the docklands. His hands flex into taut-flat lines then clench into fists.

His response makes a rock in my stomach. Why is he so upset that he—famous for his calm in negotiations with the most powerful and scary mafia bosses in the world—can’t hold his emotions together?

“Fine,” he snarls. “I promise not to kill the man who got you pregnant. Tell me who he is.”

I sigh. He’s furious with me for getting pregnant, still not asking the obvious question of whether it’s his baby, and god knows what he’d do in this mood if I told him.

“Think of him as a sperm donor.”

“Was it that?” He spins on his heel, and the hope in his expression only makes me angrier that he’s refusing to admit his part in this pregnancy. Nothing says “everything is fine and nothing happened that night” like leaving your assistant alonefor four months when previously she travelled everywhere with you.

“Might as well have been.”

“But it wasn’t.” His brows lower.

“No.” I stroke my bump, and mentally tell it that this will turn out okay. I’ll inform Dane when he’s in a more sane mood. Maybe with a paternity test, since he’s so set on his lies.

“You’re pregnant, and there’s no father in the picture.” His face has cleared, no longer revealing any of his thoughts. A mask, just as he is when he’s making deals with cartel leaders or bratva pakhans.

“Yeah. No baby daddy.” Except for the one in this room who broke my heart.

He nods curtly. “I’ll be your baby’s father.”

9

DANE

I’m going to strangle whoever deserted Stephie with my bare hands. I’m so fucking jealous that some other man got her pregnant, I can barely see straight.