A Mafia boss.
I was pregnant with a Mafia boss’s baby.
It wasn’t like a lowlife, cheating loser had walked into that VIP room and knocked me up.
But a freaking member of one of the deadliest Mafia families in the city.
All night long, I did my best to dance and finish my shift. Stanley’s was packed. So many guests filled the club, and with a full house like this, I could’ve counted on a very good night of tips. Dollar bills were flying all over the place, but unlike the rest of the women on stage, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I couldn’t even slow the frantic thoughts in my mind for long enough to notice how good of a night this was.
Nothing had changed about my needing money. I did. Now more than ever, I had to be focused on making every penny I could. I would soon be expected to care for a baby. I’d have someone dependent on me for their survival.
And I could barely keep myself alive and functioning as it was.
Instead of trying hard and taking advantage to make every dollar I could tonight, I was stuck in a spiral of worst-case scenarios filling my head. Dancing never took conscious effort. I still moved automatically, letting the music rule my motions. But in that downtime to think and ponder, I was sucked into a reel of all the horrible things that could happen.
I imagined seeing that brutish, sexy man again. If he were to know about this baby, he might try to tell me to get rid of it.
I was only hours into this pregnancy and I knew that was not happening. Not as long as I lived and breathed would anyone tell me to terminate this new life. I was already this fiercely protective of him or her. This wasn’t how I ever imagined becoming a mother, and yes, I had a lot of details to figure out, but that was non-negotiable. I wouldn’t consider terminating this baby—ever. But in the dark and scared recesses of my mind, I could see how a Mafia boss might expect me to erase this “inconvenience” without a second thought.
Or maybe he’d try to take him or her from me. Not to get rid of it, but to claim custody without any of my input. That option didn’t make me feel any better. Losing this child would ruin me. I knew that without even meeting him or her yet, and I’d be damned if some rich and powerful man could take charge of my child.
Gritting my teeth as I finished a slide on the pole, I wanted to chastise myself all over again for the fact that I was in this mess at all.
How many times had I scolded myself not to ever consider getting with a man again?
How many times had I refused to think about having sex with someone who could end up controlling me?
And how many times had I stubbornly resisted any involvement with the criminals and Mafia men who came around here?
Multiple times. I had told myself that multiple times. I knew better, and that was the one thing I regretted so sorely. I’d learned my lesson about trusting a man. I had lived through the hard mistake of counting on a man not to hurt me. In those few moments of meeting that man who’d single-handedly scared off and wounded those three creeps who’d cornered me at that party, I got so hung up on the illusion that he cared about me that I gave in to my desire for him.
It just happened so fast. All common sense escaped me when he looked me over like he was proud to have rescued me from a worse fate with those other guys.
In one night, I’d somehow gotten knocked up, but the result of that surrender would be with me forever. I would never be the same. I was now on my way to be a mother, no longer able to ever claim total independence again.
Maybe I can just not tell him.
Later, once I had a hoodie hanging over me and I counted my cash, I realized that if I minded my own business for a little longer and stayed out of trouble, I could work more nights like this one and have enough to provide for a baby.
There had to be a way forward that wouldn’t include needing backup for a baby. I could do this on my own, somehow. Hell, my neighbor was a single mother and she kept her children… alive. I couldn’t say that her infant and toddler looked well cared for or happy, but they were alive and she was doing the best she could.
Just like I will.
It wasn’t like I’d ever see that Mafia boss again. He had to be high up in the family if he was a boss. And if he was that influential, he couldn’t possibly even remember that night with me. A man like that would have lines of women waiting to be his. He’d be too busy to care about a nobody like me or the child we’d made together.
But if he were to learn about this baby and try to take him or her from me…
I bit my lip as I prepared to exit the building. A strategy was necessary, and there was no time like the present to plan ahead for as much as I could. Slinging the strap of my purse over my shoulder and then tugging the crossbody-style bag over my stomach, I played the what-if game again. Not in a worrying manner about what had already happened, but thinking ahead to be prepared.
Okay, if he were to ever see me again and know I was pregnant with his Mafia baby, then…
I rotated my shoulders to ease out the tension there. My muscles were all knotted up from the exercise of dancing all night and my anxiousness.
Then… I could leave town?
That idea had come to me many times after I learned about how screwed I was with Derick’s debt being my responsibility. After I saw how much money I owed from his using my credit, I debated just escaping and running away. It would’ve been a cowardly move, and I knew that the debt collectors would hunt me down one way or another eventually. But it really appealed now.
I could run from here. I’d get out of that crappy apartment and away from the loud neighbors. I could find a new place where no one knew me or would judge me because I was a stripper. And I could start all over. A brand-new start with a brand-new baby.
If I ever tried that, I would accomplish a reset, but I still would be alone. I’d still be a single mother trying hard to stay afloat in the stormy waves of my life.
Stripping paid well. I felt the bulk of the bills in my purse that I held snugly against me as I exited the building to head out through the rear alley. I couldn’t brainstorm another job that would pay as well as stripping did.
I’ll figure something out. I have to. Even if it meant working nonstop to save up enough to give birth. Even if it meant cutting more corners to later afford childcare.
I would do it.
My life hadn’t been that great so far, but I wanted so badly to believe that becoming a mother was the fresh beginning I needed to really change the rest of my life.
I’ll keep you safe. Just me and you, dear one.
I moved my hand over my stomach, wishing that this baby could feel my spirit and know that I would never let him or her down like so many had done to me.
Before I got around the building, I heard the voices of others nearby. Just like the other night several weeks ago when Lenny was so wasted that he saw me and tried to force me into the van, Brent was out there doing the same thing.
A couple of tipsy and drugged dancers could barely walk in a straight line, let alone wizen up to what was happening.
Not again.
Sticking to the shadows and staying away from them, I crept along the brick wall of the club. I held my breath and focused on not making a single noise as I attempted to sneak by.
Unlike Holly and that other girl who’d been taken the night I forced myself to vomit so I could escape, these dancers were almost willingly led into the van. They weren’t sober, clumsy and laughing like they were in for a good night.
But they weren’t heading anywhere fun. I had no doubt in my mind that they’d be the next ones to end up addicted to something and forced into obedience.
“Hurry,” one man said. He was the only one speaking in English, directing his lackeys to force the dancers into the back of the vehicle. When he turned to Brent, who was counting the cash he’d been given, he nodded once and spoke in Italian.
They very well were the same guys from before. It didn’t matter to me, though. I’d made my vow to avoid them at all costs, and as I turned around the corner of the building, I dropped into a jog and acted on my promise.
It was no longer a promise just to myself. I now had the motivation to steer clear of those criminals and their tactics of trafficking women because my baby had to stay safe too.
Safe?
Had I not been running home, I would’ve stopped to laugh at that notion.
Nothing seemed safe anymore.
I doubted anything ever would again. With the responsibility of caring for a baby thrust at me, everything would inherently be that much more dangerous and riskier.
Yeah, right. Like I’ll ever be safe again.
The last time I’d come close to feeling truly secure and protected was the night that stranger acted like my hero and got me away from those other guys. He had tricked me into wanting to lower my guard. He’d prompted me to go overboard in thanking him for saving me.
I knew better than to cling to the silly hope that he’d want to ensure I was safe and protected ever again.
I only had myself, and somehow, that would have to be enough.
