I thought agreeing to carry a stranger’s child was the hardest decision I’d ever make. I was wrong. Armani Del Rossi is everything I don’t want—cold, controlling, and untouchably powerful. But when he offered me the chance to save my father’s life, I couldn’t say no. What started as a simple contract became so much more. Living under his roof, I discovered a man haunted by secrets, a man whose obsession with control extends even to me. But then the danger began. Gifts from an unknown sender, threats I couldn’t explain, and a betrayal that shattered the fragile trust between us. When his world collided with mine, I learned the truth about Armani—he’s a mafia lord, and his enemies will stop at nothing to destroy him. Now, my baby and I are caught in the crossfire. Armani swears he’ll protect me, but can I trust a man who’s built a life on violence and vengeance? Or is falling for him the biggest risk of all?
View MoreArmani leaned back in his chair, looking out the window as the smell of fried fish filled the small restaurant. He was in Seattle, a place he’d only visited once before for a fancy party years ago. That event hadn’t left much of an impression, but this trip was different. It was important.
The fish on his plate was crispy and fresh, just like Benedict had promised. Benedict always said it was the best in the world, and maybe he was right. But Armani barely tasted it. The uncomfortable chair and cheap table didn’t bother him as much as the thoughts running through his head.
Armani del Rossi was no ordinary man. He ruled his world from the shadows, the name “Del Rossi” whispered with fear and reverence across continents. He was a mafia lord—a ruthless, calculating figure who commanded loyalty through power and fear. Possession was his creed. Control was his doctrine. And anything he wanted, he took.
Recently, his mind had been elsewhere. Benedict had a daughter, and even Xavier—of all people—had a son now. When Benedict’s baby was born, Armani hadn’t thought much of it. Babies cried, made messes, and didn’t interest him. But Xavier’s son was different. Seeing how Xavier changed after becoming a father had made Armani think about his own future. Maybe he wanted a child too—an heir to carry on his name.
This idea surprised him. Armani had spent most of his life avoiding serious relationships. Settling down had never been part of his plan. But now, the thought of a child had taken root. He wanted someone to continue his legacy, but he didn’t want the complications that came with a relationship.
That’s why he was here. Earlier that day, he had visited a legal firm in Seattle that specialized in surrogacy—helping people have children with the help of a surrogate mother. They were known for being private and professional. Armani had spent hours looking through profiles of potential surrogates, but none of them felt right.
One woman had seemed promising. She was smart, accomplished, and beautiful. But there was a problem—she wanted to share custody of the child. That was a deal-breaker. Armani’s plan required the surrogate to give up all rights to the child. No strings attached.
He sighed and stared out at the water. “Why does this have to be so complicated?” he muttered. The waves outside didn’t offer any answers.
Armani’s frustration grew as he thought about the lawyer’s words earlier. The man had told him he was being unrealistic. “At some point, your child will want to know who their mother is,” the lawyer had said. Armani had disagreed. He wanted a clear and simple arrangement, but finding the right person was proving harder than he expected.
A loud voice from the booth behind him broke through his thoughts. “That’s ridiculous!” the woman said. Her tone was sharp and filled with frustration. Armani couldn’t help but listen.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her. She was stunning, with long black hair and striking blue eyes. She held a phone to her ear, her face tight with anger as she argued with someone. “This has to be a joke,” she said, disbelief clear in her voice.
Armani quickly looked away, reminding himself that he hadn’t come to Seattle to be distracted by anyone, no matter how beautiful they were. But something about her caught his attention. Her voice rose again, this time sounding almost desperate.
“A million dollars?” she said, her tone sharp and incredulous. “Where am I supposed to get a million dollars?”
Her words lingered in the air, and Armani found himself thinking about her, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He tried to focus on his original purpose, but his mind kept drifting back to the woman with the fierce blue eyes and the frustration in her voice.
RenaI tightened my grip on my worn leather bag, my knuckles whitening as his outrageous words echoed in my ears. Did I hear him right?“You’re insane,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. My eyes narrowed on the tall, maddeningly composed man standing in front of me. “I don’t even know you.”He shrugged like my reaction was just a minor inconvenience. “For now,” he said casually. “But that’s hardly an insurmountable problem.”I blinked, completely thrown. “You can’t just go around asking strangers to be your surrogate,” I hissed, casting a quick glance over my shoulder. The street was quiet, but the thought of anyone overhearing this absurd conversation sent a flush of embarrassment crawling up my neck.“Of course not,” he replied smoothly, as though he were discussing the weather. “There are steps—further discussions, genetic testing, terms to negotiate—”“No,” I cut him off, taking a step back. “I’m not negotiating anything with you. I don’t even know your name!”“Ah.” He til
ArmaniHer eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating as she said, “Prove it.”I blinked, caught off guard. “Prove what?” My voice was steady, but I genuinely didn’t know what she was asking for.“The money,” she said, her gaze flicking down toward my midsection. For a brief moment, I thought she was checking me out, but no—she was expecting to see a bulging wallet or something. Her eyes snapped back to mine. “Prove it.”I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. Interesting. She wasn’t going to make this easy. Fair enough. I gave her a slight nod and reached into the inner pocket of my jacket. Slowly, deliberately, I pulled out my wallet. It was sleek, black leather—understated but unmistakably expensive. I counted out twenty crisp bills and nodded toward the booth she’d just vacated. “Shall we?” I asked, gesturing politely.I wasn’t convinced this would lead anywhere. Honestly, the whole situation felt surreal. After years of searching for the right woman, was it possible she’d just wa
RenaI dropped my phone onto the table with a dull thud, the sound barely audible over the low hum of chatter in the diner. My fingers trembled as I stared at the screen, my mind spinning with the weight of the phone call. A million dollars. It felt like some cruel punchline to a joke I didn’t understand. My stomach twisted as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my breathing. Crying wasn’t an option. Not here, not now. I forced the tears back, even as they threatened to spill over.The fries in front of me sat untouched, the once-crispy edges now soft and limp. Normally, fries were my go-to comfort food, a reliable remedy for bad days. But today, they tasted like ashes in my mouth. Even my milkshake—a creamy orange Creamsicle blend—had lost its usual appeal, the condensation forming lazy trails down the glass. My finger traced absent patterns in the moisture ring on the table, but my thoughts were a million miles away.Where the hell was I supposed to find a million dollars? My
Armani leaned back in his chair, looking out the window as the smell of fried fish filled the small restaurant. He was in Seattle, a place he’d only visited once before for a fancy party years ago. That event hadn’t left much of an impression, but this trip was different. It was important.The fish on his plate was crispy and fresh, just like Benedict had promised. Benedict always said it was the best in the world, and maybe he was right. But Armani barely tasted it. The uncomfortable chair and cheap table didn’t bother him as much as the thoughts running through his head.Armani del Rossi was no ordinary man. He ruled his world from the shadows, the name “Del Rossi” whispered with fear and reverence across continents. He was a mafia lord—a ruthless, calculating figure who commanded loyalty through power and fear. Possession was his creed. Control was his doctrine. And anything he wanted, he took.Recently, his mind had been elsewhere. Benedict had a daughter, and even Xavier—of all p
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