Owned by the Mob Boss (25 page)

Rachel

Light shone beyond my close eyelids, and I rubbed my eyes and stretched. Pain shot through me and I winced. Hours had passed. I was alive. I had survived.

But I still felt destroyed, shattered, broken. I felt like I had been broken into pieces.

A nurse came in and checked on me, and a few minutes after she left, Ivan came into the room. He rushed to my side, held out his hand, but then brought it back without touching me.

“That baby?” he asked.

I refused to look away. “The baby’s okay.”

He looked so relieved, and my heart broke all over again. He was just relieved that the contract hadn’t been broken. Of course. Nothing had changed. My reasons for leaving hadn’t changed. Ivan wasn’t a changed man. He was still a mob boss. The man behind the reason for his desperation to have an heir as soon as possible had kidnapped me in order to get to him. A man named Vanya Golovkin. He was all over the news. I had to turn off the TV because I didn’t want to see the house or be reminded of my captivity.

I just wanted to get out of here. I just wanted to go home. To my home. Not Ivan’s house.

I took a deep breath. “You don’t need to stay,” I told him. He could leave. He could go. The threat to him had been dealt with. The reporters were already convicting Golovkin. There was no doubt, according to them, that he would be tried and convicted and sent to prison for life. Which made me feel better, but I also wanted him to die too for what he had done to me.

Which gave me pause considering how anti-guns and against violence I had always been. I didn’t want to change that part of myself. I didn’t want to accept violence or welcome it into my life. I wanted to be free and happy. I didn’t want to feel afraid or face worries.

Ivan took my hand and squeezed it. “I won’t leave you ever again. I would have stayed with you every second if the doctors had allowed me. I’m so sorry. I never… If I can take back what happened to you…” He ran his other hand through his hair. For once, Ivan didn’t seem like the suave, controlled man who knew what he wanted and how to get just that. He looked apologetic and frightened.

Frightened yet. Why?

“I can’t.” I pulled my hand from his and rubbed my belly even though it caused me pain. The doctors said I was suffering from malnutrition and severe morning sickness. I needed to reduce my stress and try to get food in me, to keep it down. They had medication I could take that might help, but I was reluctant to take any medicine right now. If it proved necessary, though, I would take it. I wanted this baby desperately. I wanted him or her to be happy.

And to never have to go through what I just endured.

“I can’t,” I repeated. “I just…can’t.”

Ivan took a step back. “What’s wrong?”

The compassion in his voice combined with the worry in his features had me looking away from him. “I…” I couldn’t say anything else.

“What do you need from me?” he pleaded. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and now I was in his arms, burrowing my face into his chest. Tears poured out of me, and I was sobbing, almost hysterically. I had been through so much, too much. I couldn’t handle it.

The kidnapping, the fear of losing the baby, of dying…Ivan’s lifestyle was the cause of it. I couldn’t handle that. I wouldn’t. Nothing was worth the chance of going through something like that again.

“What do you need?” Ivan asked. “How can I make this better?”

At hearing that, I pulled away. “I don’t think you can.”

“Please.” He really was begging.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t forgive you!” I shouted.

Ivan hung his head. “I know. It’s my fault you were in danger. I never should’ve…I never wanted…”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted,” I said coldly. “I don’t want to be with someone I can’t trust. I don’t want to be with someone who will keep secrets from me. If you had been upfront about why you needed an heir—because someone was after you and wanted you dead—I mean, seriously, Ivan, did you think that wasn’t important information for me to know?”

“I was afraid—”

“Afraid that I, or any other woman, wouldn’t agree to your terms if we knew the truth? Well, yeah! Look at what happened! And don’t you dare say that if I had just stayed—”

“I wasn’t going to.”

But I was too angry to stop my ranting. “I’m not a sex partner. Or a whore. Or whatever you want to call it. I know I was paid, but…I had a right to know.”

“You’re absolutely correct.” He stood and ran a hand through his hair. He never looked so vulnerable. “My profession put you at risk, and my enemy sought to hurt me through you.”

“And obviously you thought that might happen,” I said bitterly, “because you gave me a bodyguard!”

“I wanted to keep you safe.”

“Keep your uterus safe,” I muttered.

“No. To keep you safe, Rachel.” He kneeled beside the bed. “Rachel, I would give anything, do anything, to take back what has happened to you.”

“From what point?

He hesitated. “Maybe I’m selfish, but I do not regret meeting you. With us getting together.”

“We didn’t ‘get together.’ We had an arrangement. Sex for money. A baby for money.” I rubbed my belly.

“That is what I regret,” he whispered. “I wish we hadn’t made the arrangement. I wish we had a real relationship right from the start. Because that’s what I want, Rachel. I want our baby, yes, but I want you too.”

I shook my head, staring at my tightly clasped hands. “That’s not enough. That doesn’t erase the pain, the memories. You put me in that position. You—”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be! Apologizing isn’t enough! You killed a man. You frighten me. You…”

“I killed that man to defend myself. He attacked me. And yes, I was trespassing when I was attacked, but I was looking for evidence to put away Golovkin. I should never have told you the little I did without explaining everything, every last detail. I thought that keeping you in the dark would help keep you safe—”

“Safe?” I snorted back a sob. “If I hadn’t told them I was pregnant, they were going to torture me! They thought I was lying when I told them I didn’t know anything! Honestly, I don’t know why that stopped them. I would’ve thought they wouldn’t care about an unborn baby.” I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my belly.

“I don’t know. I know it’s late to be telling you this, but do you want to hear the whole story?”

A part of me didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to let him back in. I didn’t want to hear excuses. I didn’t like that I had turned toward wanting violence during my captivity. If I hadn’t seen Ivan through the open door, if I had found a gun on the ground and saw Brute or the driver or Handsy, would I have been tempted to pull the trigger? Yes. I didn’t know how good my aim would’ve been, but I would’ve wanted to pull the trigger, regardless of whether or not I actually would’ve gone through with it. And that terrified me. Yes, I loved bad boys, but I wanted that to be the extent of my closeness to the wild, dangerous side.

But Ivan had come to rescue me. He had saved my life and the baby’s. The doctors hadn’t minced their words—I would’ve lost the baby if I hadn’t come to the hospital when I had. Luckily, they didn’t ask a lot of questions, and they hadn’t called the police, but I wanted to come forward. I wanted to face Vanya Golovkin and the other men involved in my kidnapping. I wanted to testify against them. I wanted to help lengthen their sentences. I wanted to do my part to ensure they wouldn’t walk the streets again, wouldn’t have the chance to hurt anyone else.

While the doctors didn’t ask questions, I did have them myself, so I nodded. “Go ahead. Tell me what happened between you and Golovkin. But don’t think I’ll forget that you’re only telling me this because I was kidnapped. I know you never would’ve told me.”

Ivan took a deep breath. “When I was young, my father told me who he was, what he did. I knew he was a mob boss, that I was his heir, that I would one day rule the Kovalsky mob.”

I winced. I did not want that for our child. With every fiber of my being, I didn’t want that. And I knew, based on how much money Ivan had shelled out, that with every fiber of his being, that was exactly what he did want.

“Vanya Golovkin hated my father and all he had built. He was jealous. He was determined to wipe us out. He killed my family. I survived in a safe room. When it was over, I left the safe room and saw…I saw my parents…” He paused, choked up.

Despite myself, I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t. I held back.

“The house wasn’t clear,” he said after a minute. “I was attacked and nearly died. Golovkin and his men thought I was dead. I survived. I grew up—”

“Hating him and wanting your revenge,” I guessed.

“Yes,” he admitted, drawing out the word, “but I didn’t seek him out. I didn’t make a move against him until he returned to my city.”

“That’s when you felt threatened. That’s when you decided you needed an heir.”

“I worked too hard to rebuild everything Golovkin destroyed after killing my family. I didn’t want the legacy to go to ruins. I wanted to keep the Kovalsky mob going.”

“The fighting, the gambling…the killing…” I shook my head. “I can’t accept that. Not for me. Not for… You shouldn’t want that.” It was his life. He had fought for this, for his mob. His legacy. That was all he had wanted for himself and for his heir. There was no way I could convince him otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t fair to ask this of him.

Screw that. Yes, it was. Considering I had been kidnapped. Considering I had been threatened with torture. Considering that I almost lost the baby because of malnutrition and extreme stress.

If he wanted this baby, if he wanted me in his life, he had to change. If he refused, if he wouldn’t, I would walk away. This experience had taught me a lot about myself. For so long, I had put others first, and while that was a good thing, I also needed to take care of myself too. I needed to find a job, one that I could be proud of. I needed to find my purpose in life. I was more than just a uterus. I was a person, and damn it, I was going to provide for my loved ones, and I would provide for myself.

I still loved Ivan. I still wanted him. But I didn’t need to have him in my life. I would be able to move on. I wouldn’t want to, and my life would be missing something amazing, but I had to do what was best for the baby and me.

Ivan had been quiet for so long that I didn’t know if he heard me.

“Ivan—”

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I see where you’re coming from. I swear, I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted you to be in danger. Fuck.” He grabbed his hair and pulled. “You know, I never…I never…” He got up and started to pace. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just don’t know.”

I rubbed my belly. One day soon, I would feel the baby move, and I couldn’t wait for that. I couldn’t wait for the baby to be born. For me to hug and hold him or her. For my heart to grow.

It wouldn’t be far for me to keep the baby from Ivan. He already loved the baby as much as I did. But I couldn’t in good conscience allow him to raise the baby in the mob lifestyle.

Suddenly, Ivan halted, his back to me. He whirled around, his face curiously blank. “Are you asking me to give up everything? To turn my back on my men? They fought to save you. They fought to defend our family. You can’t just walk away from the mob—”

“What is the mob? What is it that makes it impossible for you to walk away?” I gripped the hospital blanket. It was so thin that it felt like paper.

“It’s my family.”