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PREGNANT
Last Updated:
2026-02-01 22:35:41
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THE MAFIA'S PRICE TRIP TO TOKYO
The sharp trill of Dante’s phone sliced through the quiet of our bedroom like a knife. I groaned, still heavy with sleep, burrowing deeper into the pillow. My body felt deliciously sore in all the right places from last night’s “punishment,” and the last thing I wanted was to open my eyes.Dante shifted beside me, warm muscle and steady heartbeat. He reached for the phone on the nightstand without sitting up, thumbed it to the speaker, and dropped it between us on the sheets. His voice came out rough, edged with irritation.“Is it when I cut off your balls before you stop calling me early in the morning?”Liam’s voice crackled through the speaker, apologetic but urgent. “Sorry, boss, really. But it’s urgent.”Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is it? Is my house on fire? Shipment missing?”“Haruto Suzuki. He wants you to be present for the first official exchange. Our container ship is docked in Yokohama at midnight their time. To make the handoff smooth and lock in the long-
THE MAFIA'S PRICE HER PUNISHMENT
“Before the punishment begins,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “stand up and take off your clothes. Strip.”My breath caught. Heat bloomed low in my belly, instant and fierce. I was already feeling it, the slow throb between my thighs, the way my nipples had tightened under the soft fabric of his oversized sweater the moment he’d carried me up the stairs.I rose from the edge of the bed on unsteady legs. He didn’t move closer; he simply leaned back against the dresser, arms crossed, watching me with that predatory patience that always made my pulse race.“Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded.I did.I lifted the hem of the sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, and slowly pulled it over my head. The soft cotton dragged across my skin, raising goosebumps. My hair tumbled free, wild around my shoulders. I let the sweater fall to the floor.His gaze never wavered. It roamed, hungry, possessive over my bare shoulders, the swell of my breasts still covered by a thin lace bra, the dip of my waist.
THE MAFIA'S PRICE PREGNANT
The next morning I woke to soft kisses on my forehead.Dante was already dressed, dark suit, tie knotted perfectly. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much.“I have to handle something downtown,” he said quietly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. The doctor’s on her way, the same one who patched me up after the accident. If you need anything, call me or tell Clara the head maid.”I nodded, throat tight. “Be careful.”He kissed me again, slow, lingering, then left.Dr. Reyes arrived forty minutes later. She’d stitched Dante’s side and treated his wounds at the warehouse; she treated me like family now.We sat in the living room. She asked the usual questions: fatigue, nausea, fever, appetite. When she asked about my last period, I froze.I counted backward in my head.Two weeks late or more.The realization landed like a stone in still water. Ripples spread outward, cold and fast.Dr. Reyes drew blood, labeled the vial, and promised results within the hour, she had a portable analyzer
THE MAFIA'S PRICE IMPRESSIVE
Then he pulled me against his side, arm around my shoulders, fingers idly tracing patterns on my thigh. “What other languages do you speak?” he asked, out of genuine curiosity.“Spanish, fluent. Mandarin, conversational but not perfect. Arabic… enough to negotiate and understand most business talk. Polish, my father thought it useful for Eastern European deals. And a handful of others, greetings, basic phrases. French, Italian, a little Korean.”He let out a low whistle. “Damn. Impressive.”The warmth in his voice faltered when my own mood shifted. “My father forced me to learn,” I admitted quietly. “Hired tutors from the time I was eight. Different languages every year. Said it made me more valuable… a better bargaining chip.”Dante’s arm tightened around me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, tender and fierce. “Don’t talk about him.” His voice hardened, just a fraction. “He trained you well, and still underestimated you.” Then, softer, almost to himself: “Bastard.”I heard it. A sma
THE MAFIA'S PRICE YOUR REWARD
The heavy door of the private lounge clicked shut behind us, sealing away the formalities of the deal like closing a chapter. My heart still raced from the hours of careful negotiation, from the way Haruto Suzuki’s sharp eyes had flicked between Dante and me, weighing every word, every pause. When he turned to me at the end and spoke in that smooth, measured Japanese, “Anytime you visit Tokyo, it would be my pleasure to have you as my guest” I felt the weight of his respect settle over me like a mantle I hadn’t earned but somehow carried anyway.I bowed slightly, murmuring. The honor would be mine,” Dante stood beside me, silent and solid after his own handshake, his presence a quiet storm at my back. Then Suzuki spoke again, low and deliberate, and the interpreter translated for Dante: “Mr. Suzuki says you are a lucky man, Moretti. Take care of her.”Heat flooded my cheeks. I understood the words before the interpreter finished, years of tutors had drilled the language into me until
THE MAFIA'S PRICE LANGUAGE BARRIER
When we arrived at the venue Liam had sent us, the first thing I noticed was how deliberately unremarkable it looked.No signage. No obvious security. Just a quiet building tucked into an upscale district where money moved invisibly and discretion was a currency. The kind of place designed to be forgotten the moment you walked past it.Inside, everything was hushed. Soft lighting. Neutral tones. Men in tailored suits who didn’t fidget, didn’t stare, didn’t waste motion. We were guided into a waiting room and told, politely, firmly, to wait.And we did.Minutes stretched into something heavier. Time here wasn’t measured in clocks but in patience. I could feel Dante beside me, still as stone, his presence coiled and alert. He didn’t look irrit
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