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365. Suzi and Max Epilogue
Last Updated:
2025-10-10 02:06:53
Angela Lynn CarverThank you for hanging in there! If I decide to continue with Sky's book, it will be separate book. Not sure where I will be publishing that yet.
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The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 365. Suzi and Max Epilogue
Two months later, everything was supposed to be calm.That was the plan. Max had cleared his schedule. Suzi had finished decorating the nursery. Aurelia’s tiny clothes were washed, folded, and arranged by color, because Suzi believed even newborn chaos deserved a sense of order.The world was ready for the baby.The problem was that Suzi’s body had its own timeline—and the universe had a wicked sense of humor.It started on a Sunday afternoon. They were at Landon and Daphne’s anniversary party, a fancy outdoor brunch hosted at one of Landon’s hotels. Suzi had assured Max that it would be “a quick appearance.” She even promised she’d sit the entire time, eat something mild, and behave like a normal, sensible human being.For the first hour, everything went perfectly.Suzi glowed in her soft blue dress, sipping sparkling water while Daphne gushed over how close she was to her due date. Max, ever the vigilant husband, hovered nearby with a plate of safe foods—nothing spicy, nothing exper
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 364. Cravings
Suzi had a habit of craving the strangest things at the strangest times. It had started small, harmless even.A craving for apples dipped in peanut butter. Then pickles with cream cheese. Max had handled it all with the quiet patience of a man who had faced worse things than midnight snack emergencies.But lately, her cravings had evolved. They had become specific. Precise. Almost tactical.It was a Thursday night when it happened again.Suzi appeared in the doorway of Max’s office, wearing one of his oversized shirts and an expression that immediately made him nervous. He had seen that look before. The last time, it had ended with him driving across the city at midnight for mango gelato that only one café carried.He looked up slowly. “What is it this time?”Her smile was sweet but suspicious. “You’re going to laugh.”“I’m already scared,” he said.She stepped closer. “I want garlic bread.”He blinked. “Garlic bread. That’s it?”She nodded.He frowned. “That’s not bad. I was expectin
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 363. Breathe
Back at the house, Suzi opened the door only to have Max’s hands land on her hips and spin her sideways, trapping her against the entryway wall.There was a sliver of surprise, but mostly she felt him, heat radiating off his chest, the pressure of his fingers through the fabric of her shirt, and the erratic rhythm of his breathing.“You hungry?” he said, voice already lower than usual.“A little,” said Suzi, but she didn’t exactly try to disentangle herself.“I can order pizza,” he shot back, and pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck. It was a practiced move, and yet it still short-circuited all of her thoughts.“I thought you said you were traumatized,” she said, only a little breathless.“I am severely traumatized,” he said, “by your complete lack of respect for my performance under pressure.”She snorted, and his lips moved higher, skimming her jaw, steady, deliberate, like he was testing if she might collapse or combust. “You want praise?” Her words came out weirdly soft, not
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 362. Birthing Class
Suzi had that look again. The one Max had come to recognize as a sign of impending trouble. She was sitting at the breakfast table with her tablet, an empty cereal bowl, and a very specific glint of determination in her eyes.He approached cautiously, coffee mug in hand. “Alright,” he said slowly, “what are we signing up for this time? It’s either prenatal yoga or a subscription box that sends the baby outfits every month.”“Birthing class,” she said brightly.He froze mid-sip. “I’m sorry, what?”“Birthing. Class,” Suzi repeated with dangerous cheer. “You, me, breathing techniques, teamwork exercises. It’ll be fun.”“Fun?” Max repeated, deadpan. “Suzi, fun is pizza and a movie. Fun is not watching a stranger explain labor while passing around rubber babies.”“You’re exaggerating,” she said. “It’s educational. They teach you how to help me through contractions, what to pack for the hospital, how to breathe properly—”“I know how to breathe,” he interrupted.“Not apparently,” she said s
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 361. Not Helping
Suzi bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Well… technically, you are kind of a big deal.”Sky gawked at her. “I’m sixteen! My biggest deal is passing geometry!”Suzi leaned back in her chair, still smiling. “And yet you’ve somehow ended up with a full-time security detail who says things like ‘I take my job seriously.’”Sky groaned, dropping her forehead into her hands. “He says that all the time. At the café last week, Ella dropped a tray, and he jumped up and nearly tackled me to the floor. And when I asked him, what the hell is wrong with him, he goes, ‘I was assessing the risk.’ Like, who talks like that?”Suzi laughed softly. “A very organized person.”“A robot!” Sky shot back. “He doesn’t even blink sometimes. I swear, if he ever smiles, it’ll trigger a government alert.”“Maybe he’s just shy,” Suzi said kindly.“Shy?” Sky huffed. “No, Suzi. Shy people avoid eye contact. He logs it. Like he’s keeping track of how many seconds we’ve interacted.”Suzi couldn’t help
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 360. Too Serious
The soft buzz of music filled the villa, laughter rising and falling in easy waves as the night settled into that familiar warmth only family could create.Suzi had finally stopped crying, well, mostly, and was smiling again, her hand still resting protectively on her belly.Across the courtyard, the younger crowd had claimed a section of the patio. Ella was trying to convince a server to let her sample the tiramisu “for scientific purposes,” while Sky sat off to the side, arms crossed, her expression set to deep teenage disapproval.Suzi noticed immediately.“Uh-oh,” she murmured, nudging Max. “Look at Sky.”He followed her gaze, then winced. “That’s the face of someone either plotting a coup or writing sad poetry.”Suzi gave him a look. “I’ll check.”“Good luck,” Max said. “Take snacks. You might be in there a while.”Suzi rolled her eyes and crossed the patio, her heels clicking softly against the stone. “Hey, Sky,” she said, easing into the empty seat beside Sky. “Why the storm cl
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