Page 117 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

Not at all smothering like the boat.

I really don’t want to get back to the real world. Pretending to be Sal’s fiancé is fun.

I know it could never be real.

But it kind of makes me wonder…

No. I shut that thinking down. “How many castles are some castles, Sal?”

“You’ll find out. I’m sure.”

I make it a point to investigate that. But not yet.

For now, we’re nearing the end of our time. Our fake visas are for a vacation, and a month is really pushing it. Technically we have ninety days before we’d be on the Garda’s, and therefore Interpol’s, radar, but still.

We need to get back to New York.

Getting back there, though…

I’ve never been this reluctant to leave a job. Ever.

Sal is a big part of that. If there was a world where I could be a boss and stay with him?

I’d do that in a heartbeat.

I can’t though. Not only is it impossible because stupid mafia men would think he’s in charge, it’s just too risky. The only relationship that I can have with Sal that’s committed in any way is a fake one.

I need to remember that. I need to break this illusion before I get too attached to it. I’m not meant for happily ever after’s, families with white-picket fences, and husbands who buy me castles just for fun.

All of that is for other women. Not for women like me. Not for women with something to prove. Sal’s close enough. I don’t need him getting any closer to the one thing I’ve never given any man.

My heart.

I need to shut all of this down, however, before I lose control entirely. Sal can’t have my heart if I don’t give it to him, but when he pays me in great sex and castles… yeah. I really want to.

I have to stop this.

Even if doing that feels like the absolute wrong thing to do.

I sigh and reach down to where my phone is chiming lightly. I glance at it.

It’s an email. From an unknown address.

I pick up my phone, my heart pounding in my chest. I click on it.

It’s from… my doctor.

Normally I would pay zero attention to a reminder email from my doctor. But for some reason I click on it, signing in to the communication platform, and I open the message.

We’d like to remind you that the following routine care items need to be renewed…

I scan the list.

They’re all routine things. Health tasks, an appointment reminder, a quick note about nothing in particular. It’s a good, comprehensive look at my health, and a little shiver of guilt pings through me.

I haven’t been to the doctor in… a long time. At least a year. I should really probably get a tetanus shot, given the nature of my work, but my eyes lock on one little line, one particular reminder, that makes panic sink into my stomach.

It’s the shot I use for birth control.