The Mafia Don Who Chose His First Love Regretted Losing Me

Five months after opening my bakery in Sicily, I ran into Quill Moretti, the Mafia Don who had once paid me to be his lover. He stared at my pregnant belly, mockery and warning in his eyes. "Claire, you've got some nerve! Thinking you can use a baby to become my wife! "The only woman I've ever loved is Sherry!" I scoffed. "I think you've misread the situation. "I'm carrying my husband's baby." Quill's brow furrowed. "Trash like you will lie about anything! "I want a paternity test. You're coming with me." I nodded calmly. "Fine. We'll go first thing tomorrow morning." Three years ago, I was nothing more than a hotel housekeeper. While cleaning a suite, I accidentally knocked over the man staying there. Quill. He'd been drinking heavily. He stared at me for a long moment, then dragged me onto the bed. We were tangled up together all night. Once he sobered up, Quill tossed me an agreement. "Be my woman. "A million dollars a month." I thought of my mother, who was fighting cancer and desperately needed expensive treatment. She finally had a chance. I agreed without hesitation. Quill's sexual appetite was insatiable. At least five times a day. But he refused to let me get pregnant. "Someone of your lowly status doesn't deserve to carry my child." So I took the pill, over and over again. Until his first love, Sherry Russo, came back. Quill threw me a bank card. "A hundred million dollars to end this. Be smart and take it." I had always known that Quill's possessive hold on me was not love. So I accepted his offer. On the day of his wedding to Sherry, I slipped away without a word. And married a strikingly handsome billionaire who rivaled Quill in every way in a private civil ceremony.