Owned by the Mob Boss (15 page)

Rachel

TI finally had that talk with Ivan about my mom

“This job isn’t supposed to take you away from your life,” Ivan said. He had tucked some hair behind my ear and caressed my cheek. We had just finished having sex—it hadn’t felt like fucking in a long time now.

“So I can visit my mom?” I asked for clarification.

“As long as you are safe about it.” He wagged a finger at me.

My stomach had tightened at the word “safe.” Nothing about Ivan screamed safe.

In the bedroom, that was fine, but with his future child, with my mom, with me even… I sometimes didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

“I’ll take Leo with me,” I offered.

He made a face. “Leo and Boris too.”

“Boris?”

“Yes. Safety in numbers.”

“I don’t need—”

“Please. It would set my mind at ease.”

He wasn’t begging, but he wasn’t cold or demanding either. He really wanted me to be safe.

Me or my uterus?

Did he only see me as the woman he wanted to impregnate? Or did he see me, Rachel, the woman? The distinction was important to me, but did it matter to him at all?

“How often can I go see her?” I pressed, figuring it would be better to learn the limits now, before they became an issue.

“As often as you would like. I won’t keep you from your mother.”

“Thank you.” I felt so surprised, and then I felt guilty for being surprised. I had expected him to deny me, especially because of my being accosted. I thought he would say that he had provided my mom with a highly qualified nurse and that I should be grateful that my mother was also benefiting from this arrangement, that he hadn’t had to pay for the nurse at all.

But no. He was being gracious and kind and it was times like this when I found it so easy to forget who he was, that he was a mob boss. Which was dangerous. I had to never forget that. I couldn’t help thinking that the more time we spent together, the more I would fall for him. Because he was the kind of guy I would go after. A bad boy. A hot one. A rich one. And one who cared enough about my mom to help her out.

I had never before met a guy quite like Ivan before.

“I asked around.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to make sure your mother had the care of the best doctors.”

I glowered at him. “I might—”

He held up his hand. “Don’t misunderstand my intentions. I was trying to help.”

I crossed my arms. “And what did you think when you realized I had already made sure she was seeing the best doctors in the area?”

“I thought all the more highly of you considering that I know you were struggling before we made our…arrangement.”

I blushed at his praise. “Just because money had been an issue doesn’t mean that I was willing to allow my mom to have less quality care.” It hadn’t been easy, but I had done everything I could for her. As much as I hated myself for it, once I got fired, I thought that maybe it might be time to switch to a cheaper doctor, but I hated myself for even thinking it. This was my mom, my only family. I would have given up everything for her to continue to have her best chance at recovering.

“Your mother must be one hell of a woman to have raised a daughter like you,” he murmured.

Now that was very high praise. It would be the perfect opportunity to ask him about his own mother.

Except he continued talking.

“I don’t know how you feel about this, but because of the guy approaching you…” He glanced away, but I saw his jaw tighten and his hands curl into fists. He hated that I had been accosted, and something inside of me shifted.

“What did you do?” I whispered. Had he hunted down the man and killed him? What would I think if he had? What if that man came back and wanted to send another message to Ivan—this time not with words but my dead body?

“I gave your mom a chauffeur as well as the nurse.”

“Chauffeur or bodyguard?” I asked pointedly. I didn’t know how to feel about this latest development. While I appreciated the gesture, I hated that there might be a need for my mom to have the bodyguard.

He had smiled widely at that. “Both in one.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“Don’t worry about it. And…I won’t keep you from your friends either,” he added.

That had surprised me. Twice now, he had shocked me. “You know about Denise?” The moment I asked, I felt silly. Alec had probably mentioned me, and if he had, he probably hadn’t said anything good about me…or about Denise for that matter considering he had dumped her.

But if that had been the case, why had Ivan given me a chance? Why had he agreed to me being his surrogate? And did this mean that if Alec had a role in my getting this position that I shouldn’t hate him like I did? It was so strange. I had been so against Alec for Denise, but here I was, with Ivan. Well, not in a real relationship with him.

Real enough for me to need a bodyguard.

Real enough that I needed to guard my heart.

Why did I accept Ivan when I hadn’t been able to accept Alec for Denise? Alec had been a little gruff and very full of himself. It had been off putting to me, but Denise thought of it as swagger.

Ivan had confidence. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. He made things happen. Yes, he had servants, but he didn’t treat them unkindly, at least whenever he interacted with them in front of me. Was it possible that Ivan was putting on an act in front of me? Honestly, that seemed likely. How could he be in the mob, and obviously be thriving in it given his wealth, unless he was cold and capable of committing crimes?

Which side of him was more accurate? The kind and tender side he showed me when no one else was around? Or the mob guy who did whatever it took to stay on top?

“What’s troubling you?” he has asked, his fingers rubbing my temples. “You look like you’re worrying too hard.”

It wasn’t like I could just talk to him about this. I couldn’t trust him to answer honestly. And if I couldn’t trust him with a simple question, how could I trust him with anything?

Whether it was smart to or not, I did trust him.

“What’s worrying you?” he asked.

I gave him a wide smile. No more worrying thoughts…for now at least.

“Can’t have that,” I joked. “Can’t risk having wrinkles already.”

He laughed and kissed my forehead and then other places. Words weren’t spoken except in moans for a long while after that.

Over the next weeks, we spent a lot more time together, and not just in the bedroom. We usually had a meal a day together, and at first that had been so awkward. His servants would serve us, and he didn’t know what to talk to me about, and I didn’t know what topics of conversation were okay to broach, so I kept quiet too.

But the first time that he sent his servants away so it was just the two of us for breakfast, things felt much more natural. The constant reminder of his wealth was gone, and I could focus more on him. We talked about little, silly things and laughed and joked, and even though it wasn’t anything serious or deep, it had been refreshing. Despite his job, Ivan was just a man.

But then the topic of conversation became more serious over time. We would talk about my mom, my old job, my hopes and dreams, about my life before Ivan. That was how I was beginning to think of my life: “before Ivan” and “now.” Eventually, I would have to go through “after Ivan,” but I found myself not wanting to think about that. While I was here in his mansion, I felt safe. And I felt safe in his arms. And when I did leave to see my mom or Denise, I still felt safe because of the protection Ivan offered. It wasn’t normal, and it scared me that I was already becoming accustomed to this lifestyle.

And we didn’t just talk about me. Ivan talked about himself too. Not about his mob life, and not much about his past either, but he talked about what he wanted for the future, and what he wanted for his son, and that made things that much more confusing for me, and right now, I didn’t need to be more confused.

Because as much as I hated the idea of being under the same roof as those weapons, and as much as the idea of why Ivan needed those weapons close by frightened me, and as much as I couldn’t overlook the fact that Ivan had connections to the mob, I was afraid of something even more important.

I was afraid I was falling in love with him.

I had this habit of falling for guys who weren’t good for me, and this was the kicker. As kind as he was, as incredible as he was in bed, I couldn’t risk falling for him like this. I was not a permanent fixture in his life, and once I gave birth, we would part ways. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that, and I had better learn to accept that—the sooner the better.

But I found myself wanting to spend more time with him. I wanted to talk to him more, and the last few times we had sex, we talked beforehand and afterward too. We had sex more than four times a week, and I wasn’t complaining about that, but I wanted more.

And I had no business wanting that. That wasn’t part of the agreement. Maybe I should stop talking to him so much, sharing with him. Because all of this closeness, all of the time we were spending together…it was making me so confused about our relationship. It didn’t feel like a business arrangement anymore. It felt like more.

That night, we had just finished eating dinner. Ivan had just asked how my mom was doing, and I couldn’t help myself.

“She’s doing pretty well, actually. And speaking of my mom…you never talk about yours. How is she?”

Ivan stilled.

He was going to shut me out. Wouldn’t let me in. I knew it. Should’ve never asked.

“She’s…she’s dead,” he said stiffly.

Oh!

My hands flew to my mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know!”

“Of course you didn’t. My father’s dead too.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, not knowing what else to say, hating how pathetic my words were. He must have heard apologizes all his life.

He appraised me for a moment. “You never talk about your father. Was he…had he run off?”

“No. No, nothing like that. Dad hadn’t been a deadbeat. He had been great. Would’ve been so overly protective of me.” I smiled even though I could feel tears welling already. “He died. Had a massive heart attack. I was ten.”

“Eight when my parents died.”

I wanted to ask how they died, but I also wanted him to volunteer that information. And even if he didn’t share the how, I so appreciated him telling me this much. His parents dying so young…was that why he ended up in the mob? I wanted to understand him.

To try to explain away his dark side? To give him excuses? He had all those weapons. He had to have used some before. Had he killed anyone himself? Just who was Ivan? What had happened in his past to make him the man he was today? How would his tragic past affect his future? Would he ever be able to move on and turn away from his life of crime? From the mob?

We would never work. I had no business asking him to leave the mob. We weren’t dating. I had to stop these daydreams of mine. We weren’t a couple. We had sex. He paid me. I would one day hand over a baby to him and walk away with even more money.

I hated myself for that.

I hated Ivan for making me sign that contract.

I hated Ivan for being in the mob.