Pregnant By My Mafia Kidnapper

Dominic

"Where is she?"

I keep my head down, scanning the area to find my target. It's challenging with my hair in my face, a change from my usual clean-shaven look.

Normally, I maintain a smooth scalp, but now I need to appear homeless.

Appearing sick and homeless is essential for my act. That's why I'm here, pretending to need medical assistance.

Who is that?

I recognize the man who just entered. He's tall, intimidating, with sharp eyes... I've seen those eyes before, but I can't remember where. I hope he turns so I can see his face.

But if he does and recognizes me, I'll have to reach for my gun.

"Sir, are you okay?" A receptionist interrupts my thoughts. Remembering my role, I clutch my stomach and groan. "Hang in there. A nurse will assist you soon."

I nod, hoping for the right nurse.

I only want Isabella Genovese. No one else will suffice.

Damn, I reek.

I know I need to smell the part for anyone to believe I've been living on the streets. The clinic staff are truly angels; they help anyone, even a guy like me with a ragged beard.

But even good people can be suspicious.

My heart races as the man sits across from me. Is something about to happen?

But he doesn't even glance in my direction.

Maybe my disguise is fooling everyone.

Perhaps that's why I have my reputation. I've never botched a job, and I won't start now.

"William Bonell."

The name echoes, disappointment evident in the room. Why are they upset? I've been here forever!

"William Bonell."

Oh no.

That's me.

I blurted out the name without thinking. Now it's time to act. Still groaning, I stand and shuffle forward.

At least I can pretend I made a mistake due to being 'too ill'.

I've observed Isabella Genovese enough to know she's working tonight, but there are other nurses too. I didn't pay enough attention to the voice to be sure it was her.

I need confirmation.

An idea strikes me, a way to ensure I'm seen by the right person. I reach for the nearest chair, groaning louder as if the pain has intensified.

But I miss the chair.

I grasp at thin air, and I plummet.

Pandemonium ensues as soon as I hit the ground. The person closest to me on a chair moves away, fearing my odor or whatever illness I might carry. Someone even shrieks as if I'm about to pounce.

Amidst the chaos of people scrambling to distance themselves, I sense someone approaching.

"Oh dear, Mr. Bonell. Let me assist you."

Not only is the voice gentle, but so is the touch.

Warm fingers wrap around my arm and support my back, sending a strange sensation coursing through me.

Whoever she is, she doesn't seem concerned about catching anything from me.

I dare to lift my gaze, confirming it's the face I've been seeking.

Yes, indeed.

With piercing blue eyes, gentle cheekbones, and long, braided black hair, this is unmistakably my target. I've seen her face countless times in photographs.

Looking into her eyes, I feel a connection stronger than any photo depicted. Something profound sparks between us, especially when she smiles.

I gulp.

"Come on, Mr. Bonell," she continues kindly. "Let's get you up, and then we can assess your condition."

I'm at a loss for words.

That rarely happens.

"Don't fret," she whispers softly as I stand. "No one is paying attention to you. You don't need to feel embarrassed here. Accidents happen all the time."

Surprising.

I didn't anticipate being treated with such humanity in this guise.

Though I'm not homeless, if I were, Isabella would be a ray of sunshine.

"So, you're experiencing stomach troubles, correct?" she inquires as we enter her office. "And you mentioned something about chest pains?"

All I can manage is a nod as she settles me onto the only bed in the plain, whitewashed room. Her touch through my clothes was unsettling enough. I'm not sure I can maintain composure with her hands on my bare skin.

"It feels tight," I murmur as she gently presses against my chest.

"Could you lift your shirt, so I can listen to your heart properly?"

She's dangerously close.

I can feel her breath, intense despite my odor. Yet Isabella doesn't shy away.

A consummate professional through and through.

"Alright, your heart sounds strong, which is reassuring." Isabella smiles at me, giving no indication of seeing through my act, thank goodness. I'm not sure how convincing I'm being, to be honest. "Now, let's focus on your stomach pains. That seems to be the primary concern at the moment, considering the distress they're causing."

I part my lips, but words fail me for a moment. I'm still utterly dumbfounded, which isn't helping matters. Yet Isabella continues to grin at me as though she's thrilled to have me in her clinic.

Unbeknownst to her, Isabella O'Connell has just made my job infinitely more challenging.

Isabella

Two months later...

Where am I?

Not that it matters. The ambiance is seductive, and the soft music playing sets an exciting tone.

I'm enjoying myself.

But what really has my attention is the attractive man reaching out his hand to me.

"Hey," I croak as I lean into him, eagerly kissing his lips.

Damn, he feels amazing.

"Get on the bed," he commands in a husky voice as he guides me backward. To my surprise, there's indeed a bed behind me. "I need to see you."

Usually, I'm not this bold, but this incredibly attractive stranger is looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.

Damn it! I want to be consumed by him!

He removes my clothes with urgency, leaving bruising kisses and marks all over my heated skin.

I'm sure I'll have marks... not that I mind!

"I... I want to see you too..." I gasp.

Though the tall, muscular, tattooed man is only vaguely familiar to me, I know I want him. Every part of my body craves him, yearning to feel his touch. That's all that matters.

He takes his time undressing, enjoying the way I can't tear my eyes away from him. Even without removing his boxers, I can see the effect I've had on him. His thick, pulsating erection seems to throb for me as well. It takes all my willpower not to throw myself at him, to intertwine our bodies and indulge in our desire.

He climbs onto the bed, moving toward me like a predator closing in on his prey. And here I am, ready to be consumed by him.

"I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you," he whispers as he gently strokes my cheek. But before I can respond, his fingers wrap around my throat, lightly applying pressure.

Now I'm certain this must be a dream.

No one else knows about my secret fantasies.

Yet, it feels incredible. As the air escapes my lungs and he moves closer, a dizzying sensation washes over me. I'm trembling with anticipation, and when his fingers brush against my clit, my body jerks with desire. Electricity courses through me, igniting every nerve ending. The man growls with pleasure, reveling in the effect he's having on me, tracing exquisite patterns over my throbbing nub until I can't hold back any longer.

I need him.

Now.

"Damn..." I gasp, struggling to catch my breath. "Damn it, I need you... I want you to make love to me..."

But the man pays no heed to my words.

Instead, he thrusts his drenched fingers deep inside me, igniting a new level of pleasure, while his warm breath follows the path of his rough tongue, swirling around my clit, tasting me, exploring every inch of me in the most incredible way imaginable. I never knew I could feel this exquisite. I never realized a man could evoke such sensations within me.

The pleasure is profound, intense, overwhelming. It seems to originate from a part of me I've never ventured into before—and I revel in it. I clutch onto the stranger's head, urging him to continue because I never want this sensation to end. I want him to keep exploring me until he pushes me over the edge into pure ecstasy.

With one hand still gripping my throat, his other delves into my thigh, his nails leaving marks on my skin.

Yet the pain only adds to the exhilaration.

"Oh my god."

The overwhelming pleasure courses through my body, impossible to contain any longer. As much as I want to linger in this blissful sensation, my racing heart, pumping hot blood through my veins, won't allow it...

I collapse backward as the pleasure crashes over me, the orgasm surging through me with relentless force. The intense ecstasy washes over me, relentless and unending. It's like a tidal wave of pleasure that I never want to end.

This is beyond incredible.

I never want this feeling to fade, whether it's a dream or reality.

Glancing down, I see the man between my thighs. Except now, he's not a stranger. He's never truly been a stranger; it just took me a moment to recognize him.

But now that I know, the pleasure becomes even more overwhelming.

William Bonell.

Holy shit, the homeless guy I see regularly at the clinic. He's the one bringing me to this euphoria?

A part of me always suspected he might be skilled in the bedroom, but wow... I'm utterly blown away.

If only I could silence that annoying ringing sound pulling me away from William. I want to talk to him, to learn more about him. We never get the chance to talk...

Ring, ring... Ring, ring... Ring, ring...

But he slips through my grasp like sand. I can barely recall the intense pleasure that consumed me moments ago.

I snap my head up, blinking rapidly, trying to reconnect with reality.

Ring, ring... Ring, ring... Ring, ring...

My eyes find the clock first. It's three AM, meaning I'm on break.

I shouldn't be napping during my downtime at the clinic, but I doubt anyone will mind. My colleagues are just like me—dedicated to helping others, even if it leaves us drained and in need of a rest.

Oh no.

But as soon as I reach for my phone, the warm and fuzzy feelings dissipate. It's my father, and at eight AM his time, I know this will be a serious conversation.

He always has his serious talks early.

"Hey, Dad," I try to sound cheerful.

"Isabella." His tone is grave. "Why haven't you been in touch with me? We're all waiting here. The entire country of Ireland is waiting for your answer."

My heart sinks. He won't like my answer, which is why I hesitate to give it.

"I've been busy, Dad. I haven't had a chance to think..."

"For god's sake, Isabella. Do you realize who we're dealing with? This isn't just about choosing shoes for prom. This is Risty Falesco Junior and a marriage proposal." As if I need reminding. "He's getting impatient, you know?"

I sigh heavily. "But it benefits you, doesn't it? Having me here in New York, keeping my ear to the ground, helping you out..."

"Isabella," Dad interrupts sharply. "Don't be ridiculous. The best way you can help me right now is by marrying Risty, so I can get him and his family off my back."

I try to speak, hoping to find the right words, but nothing comes out. I don't know how else to decline. I don't know how to convey that marrying Risty Falesco Junior is the last thing I want. Instead, an excuse slips out. "Sorry, Dad, I'm at work and there's an emergency. I'll call you back..."

He continues talking, but I end the call anyway.

I'm fed up.

I can't keep having this conversation. It's getting me nowhere.

Why would anyone want to marry a womanizer and alcoholic like Risty Falesco Junior? He's not just that; he's also known to be cruel. Plus, marrying him means returning to Ireland, which is out of the question.

I left for a reason.

I definitely don't want to go back.

"You have a plan," I remind myself as I stand up, ready to return to work. "You're going to prove your worth, and then..."

Well, hopefully, any talk of marrying that jerk will be long forgotten. I just want to be here, living my own life, freely. I don't care about the mob drama in Ireland. I never wanted to marry as a pawn in the games of different families to strengthen bonds.

I want to be my own person.

As I pour myself a much-needed cup of coffee to give me a caffeine boost before going back to work, I chuckle to myself, recalling the dream I had earlier.

It's not surprising that William Bonell was the man in my dream, even if the mind-blowing sex was unexpected. I've been thinking about him a lot lately, ever since I met him. He's a big part of my plan.

Well, if I can get him on board, that is.

"Oh, there you are," my coworker Lily calls out. "I was just coming to find you. The place is filling up again. You know how it gets at this time of morning. And I think I heard someone asking specifically for you."

Could it be William?

I can't imagine anyone else asking for me directly.

Uh oh, now I'm grinning foolishly. I don't want Lily to suspect anything.

"Oh, right. I'll be there in a moment. Just finishing my coffee."

Lily gives me a playful salute before heading into her own clinic room, eager to assist whoever needs her.

I take a deep breath before stepping out into the crowd. It's amazing how much happens at night. I can't believe there aren't more clinics like this in the city.

But my eyes are searching for one person in particular.

If William is here, I might finally talk to him about my plan. We've been getting closer over time, and I think we're developing a friendship, so it might work.

Then again, it might not.

I can't spot him, though, so I'm not sure who asked for me personally. Strange.

Just as I'm about to inquire at the reception about who wanted me, a loud crash, like breaking glass, fills the room, silencing everyone. People either drop to the floor or raise their hands above their heads, and it dawns on me what's happening. This is danger; we're in danger.

Shit, this is serious.

There's a man... with a gun.

He's waving it around like a maniac.

Who would dare to threaten a clinic? We don't even stock the kind of painkillers that someone might be after.

A lump lodges in my throat as I confront the unthinkable sight of a gun aimed at me.

But that's not the worst part.

It's the person holding the gun.

The homeless man, the man I believed was my ally, poised to aid me with my plan.

William Bonell.