Wrong Number. Right Don (Sinful Mafia Daddies)

by Natasha L. Black

“And I’d probably never have to work a day in my life.” I sighed wistfully.

“Your singleness is very much to my advantage.”

“My darling, no one has whipped me in a very long time,”

“I know you’ll send in a SEAL team if I don’t check in once a day.”

“Although today there was only a tray of pastries, not a full spread. I’m really suffering here.”

“Hardy har har,” she mocks. “You’ve become quite the princess.”

“That sounds like code for hot and heavy sexual tension.”

“What’s meant to be will be,” she says wisely. “At least that’s what the wrapper on this piece of chocolate just told me.”

She’s snoozing softly but seems a bit uncomfortable, so I fluff the pillows behind her head, adjusting them gently until she sighs in relief and rests more comfortably.

I notice her hands are dry, so I massage rosewater lotion into her skin until it’s silky again. She stirs and opens her eyes, smiling when she sees me standing over her.

“You’ve been very kind to me. As much as I hate to admit that Sergei is right about anything, he was right to bring you here.”

“You’re needed here,” she says firmly. “By more than just me, I think.”

“How far along are you?”

“You are not showing yet,”

“But I’ve had two children. I know the signs. You touch your stomach when you think no one’s looking, and there’s a constant worry in your eyes. And, of course, you’re always unwell in the mornings. I remember what that was like.”

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Liliya adds, reaching out to pat my hand gently. “I will not tell Sergei. That is for you to decide. But I wanted you to know that you are not alone.”

The Bratva may be my blood and my legacy, but she has nothing to do with that world, and I want to keep it that way.

She looks relaxed but tired. In fact, she’s looked that way often since she moved in. At first I chalked it up to lingering stress from her old job, but I can’t shake the sense she’s hiding something.

“Is that your way of saying you missed me?” I smirk. “Would it work if I said yes?”

She knows what comes next, and there’s almost disappointment in her eyes.

She’d looked distant at the end, like she was already building a wall between us.

There’s something deeper in the way she looked at me just now, like part of her wants to get closer while the other part is already halfway out the door.

Sasha’s a hothead to the core; he either needs to smash something or walk it off. He’s bound to do something dangerous with all this pent-up energy.

“Damn. You finally got some, didn’t you?”

“I’m your brother,” he says, like that entitles him to the full play-by-play. “And more importantly, I’m your second-in-command. So if you bring someone new into your life, into this family, I do need to know what they know. Or don’t know.”

“Fix your shirt,” he shoots back. “You missed a button. I’m surprised you’re indulging in afternoon delight while we’re on the brink of a potential conflict.”

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of Dr. Fucking Feelgood.”

“Any other time, I’d be thrilled that you’re getting some, but there’s so much at stake right now.

“Then you’ll drink some top-shelf vodka and get back to business right away,”

about how she’s going to react if you refuse to ever actually tell her.

learned anything about women in my thirty-seven years, it’s that they dislike secrets a lot more than...

“You’re even worse at relationships than I am.”

“But I sleep with a lot more women than you do. So I’ve picked up a lot of useful information.”

“Is it yelled at you as you’re sneaking ...

“Sometimes hurled at me with ...

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re going to break her by telling her the truth, Sergei. But you might break yourself if you keep pretending she doesn’t deserve to know who you really are.”

“I can see it. Hell, even Mom can see it. You two are the ones who can’t seem to get your shit together.”

That’s one risk I’m just not willing to take.

“Can you hear me?” “Mmhm,” he mutters faintly.

Sasha gives me a weak smile. “Thanks, Nurse Nicole,” he mutters through his split lip. “You’re a lifesaver.”

can’t tell you,” he murmurs, “but I want to. You have no idea how much I want to.”

“You can trust me, Sergei,” I say, soft but firm. “Let me in.”

Instead, his gaze sharpens, and I can feel him pulling away emotionally. He withdraws, just as he always does when I question his world.

“I’m not sure you’d stay if you knew who I really am,”

“I can’t fall for the version you’re willing to show me—that illusion isn’t real. I have to be able to see who you are on the inside. You have to be willing to show me all of you, or this will never work.”

“I owe you a hell of a lot, Nicole. For taking care of my mother. For saving Sasha. For sticking around, even when I know I haven’t been the most forthcoming.”

“You’ve done more for my family than you know,” I tell her honestly. “I’m glad you agreed to take the job.”

“You’re mine,” he whispers, lips at my ear. “Say it.” “I’m yours,” I gasp.

“Come inside with me,” he says. “Sleep in my room tonight. Stay with me.”

Every time we’ve been together, he’s left not long after. Does this mean he wants more? Am I ready to give him more? I shove the questions aside as he kisses me again slow and sweet, then opens his door.