Page 86 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

I might throw up again. He stands up, bracing himself on the couch, and looks down at the open bottle of scotch.

Don’t.

My heart is in my throat.

He caps it and takes it back to the bar unsteadily. I let out a breath of relief, but then he turns toward the stairs and meets my eyes.

His are too-blue even in the dim light, wet and full of something I can’t put my finger on.

I wrench my eyes away from him and all but run up the stairs and into my room.

Monday rolls around and I don’t see Dante again. He’s just holed up in his room. I could sneak out, if I wanted to. Ricardo doesn’t watch me the way that Dante does.

But where would I even go? It’s not like I have a boyfriend to visit, and Reese and Sofia come here anytime I want.

Besides, I’m too tired to go out. The baby has me sleeping an extra four hours every day for a nap. I’ve done some internet research and they say it’s normal, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.

Ricardo arrives at three, as promised. I’m already waiting outside. I walk to the car, slide into the passenger seat, and give him a weak smile. “Thanks again. Do you think we could swing by and pick up Sofia? For… you know, moral support.”

Reese wanted to go, too, but I couldn’t think of a reason to take my male best friend to a pap smear.

“Sure.”

Sofia climbs into the backseat, looking hungover. I don’t ask questions. Don’t want to mention the name of a member of the Bratva around Ricardo. If it gets back to her father…

Well. It won’t be pretty.

Ricardo waits in the car as Sofia and I head inside, arm in arm. “Are you nervous?” she asks quietly as we sign in and sit down.

“Terrified. What if something’s wrong?”

“It’s going to be okay,” she says, squeezing my arm with hers. We finally disentangle when the nurse calls my name.

I hate the doctor’s office just as much now as I did when Mama was sick, it turns out.

The clinical smell of bleach makes my stomach roll, but I manage to keep down my breakfast—dry toast and a boiled egg. Sofia helps me into the stupid gown and I’m trying not to cry.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “You’re not sick. Just pregnant.”

I hitch in a breath. It’s like she knows exactly where my head is at. I take her hand as she stands next to the exam table and squeeze it hard. “Thank you for being here, Sofia. It means a lot.”

“Where else would I be? Reese texted. Says he hopes the baby doesn't have a big head like Dante.”

I snort out a laugh and it makes me feel lighter. “Of course he did.”

The ultrasound technician comes in first. “Do you know how far along you are?”

I shake my head. “Not really. I estimate about two months. Maybe three.”

She tilts her head. “I guess we’ll start with a vaginal ultrasound.”

I make a face. “That doesn’t sound very fun.”

She laughs. “It’s not. But it’s the only way to see the fetus when you’re this early. Were you on any birth control?”

I give her a sheepish smile. “Had an implant in my arm.” I show it to her. “But I kind of missed my last few appointments to update it.”

“That’ll do it.”