LOGINSweetheart, I know you are pregnant, and that baby inside you womb is mine." The Mafia lord who is also Christy's boss said. Squeezing her nipples enough to make her moan. Then he suddenly pulled his hands. “And so are you, Christy," he snarled, jabbing a thick finger at Christy's swollen belly, his blue eyes burning' into her like a rattlesnake coiled to sink its fangs. Christy's blood ran cold immediately. How did he know she was pregnant? She hadn't told anyone, it's only her and the doctor that knows about her pregnancy. What happened between her and Lukas was a mistake, it was just a one night mistake and now he wants to claim her and her unborn child.
View MoreI look at the stranger. I never expected him to straight-up point at me as the woman of his choice. My heart skipped a beat, caught between shock and a weird thrill. Was it the alcohol talking, loosening his tongue, or was he just teasing to keep the night interesting? I peered at him with scrutinizing eyes, searching his face for any hint of a joke, but damn, he was dead serious. Those intense green eyes held mine without flinching; he meant every word. He really wanted me as his woman, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. What made me stand out in his world of family drama and high-stakes expectations?He chuckled, clearly enjoying my wide-eyed reaction. "What's with that look? You shouldn't be surprised.""What the fuck? You just said I'm the woman of your choice. Of course I'm surprised!" I snorted, trying to play it cool even as my pulse raced. "Don't mess with me! I'm not in the right mind for bullshit pickup lines tonight.""I'm not messing around," he stated firm
The young man turned around to face me again. He leaned on the glass pane and slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, shrugging playfully. "He's gone now."I smiled and nodded, relief washing over me. "Yeah, he's gone, thankfully.""And now it's just you and me," he grinned.I couldn't tell if he meant it or if it was just friendly teasing, but that line sent my heart and mind into a frenzy. My body heated up, and those perverted thoughts flooded back in, harder to shove away this time. What the hell was wrong with me? I took a big gulp of my wine to drown them out. Seriously, why was I getting horny in front of a total stranger?To cut the awkwardness, I asked, "How about you? What's your problem?"His grin vanished instantly, replaced by silence, like he wasn't about to spill.I clicked my tongue, annoyed. "What's with the silence? Didn't we agree to share our worries? I told you mine!""I know, and I'm not the type to go back on my word," he replied. He slid back into his seat, gra
Are you sure you are done with him?" The stranger asked me again."I nodded and raised my two middle fingers." I swear, I'm done with him." I said. And took a sip of my drink."Alright then, give me your ring." He said stretching out his hand.I blinked several times, staring at the man's open palm thrust right in front of me, his fingers steady despite the alcohol we'd both been drowning in. My mind reeled, struggling to process his words amid the haze of the bar's muffled chatter and clinking glasses. Had I heard him right?"What?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper, confusion knitting my brows together."I said, give me your ring," he repeated calmly, his tone unwavering, like he was stating the most obvious fact in the world. "I'll throw it away for you. Right now.""T-Throw it away?!" I yanked my hand back instinctively, cradling it protectively against my chest with my other palm, as if shielding a fragile treasure. The shock hit me like cold water, sobering me up in an
I couldn't help but instinctively reach for the ring on my finger, twisting it nervously as if it might somehow shield me from this stranger's piercing gaze. Despite the haze of alcohol clouding his eyes, this man was shockingly perceptive, cutting right through my defenses like a knife through fog."J-Just because I'm married doesn't mean that whatever mess I'm in right now has anything at all to do with my marriage," I stammered desperately, my voice trembling as I tried to build some kind of wall around myself. God, I felt so utterly exposed, like he could see every crack in my armor, every hidden fracture I'd been ignoring for months. Part of me still whispered that he might be some kind of stalker, watching me from the shadows. But honestly, what would be the point? I wasn't anyone special—no celebrity, no supermodel turning heads. I was just Christy, an ordinary working woman drowning under the relentless weight of stress from my high-pressure job, deadlines that never ended, an


















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