My Mafia Boyfriend’s Test
On the day I got pregnant again, August decided to give up on gambling and work to provide for the family.
I was so touched that I cried. With trembling hands, I handed him the money I had saved up after working odd jobs for a year.
Two of the bank notes fell on the floor, and I picked them up before running after him.
When I reached the end of the alley, I saw the mafia members who always came to our doorstep to demand repayment of our debt. They treated August respectfully. Apparently, his poverty was just a facade.
“Mr. August, do we still need to surround your house and demand payment tomorrow?”
August sat in a Lincoln limousine and said nonchalantly, “No need.”
He stared at the