Page 151 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

There is nothing to do. Literally nothing.

There’s wind.

Cold rain that I’m pretty sure is just snow, but in disguise.

Lots of birds and bird noises.

I heard a ruckus and Rowan told me that it was a polar bear in town, but I didn’t actually get to see it.

You know that you’re bored when you want a polar bear to show up.

Inside the cabin, there is no TV. No computer. There’s a bunch of books but I think they might be all in Danish, and so I’m literally just alone with my thoughts.

Well.

And my body, which is doing everything that it can to kill me.

I can’t keep anything down. I don’t know if it’s the fishy smell of bird poop that occasionally wafts up from the beach, or the fact that I’m more anxious than I’ve ever been in my life, or the fact that I’m stuck in a cabin somewhere so far away from the rest of the world I might as well be on the fucking moon.

But it’s getting really bad.

I can see that I’m losing weight. Normally, I’m not necessarily skinny, and I’m curved. I’m short and so all of those curves look quite pronounced on my body, a fact that I’m very proud of, but as I look at myself in the mirror, I can see things I haven’t seen on my body in a long time.

There are a lot more bones in my shoulders than I’ve ever seen before, for example.

It’s been somewhere around a week since I had a solid meal. There are lots of weird Danish crackers and things that I’d never eat, and I do my best to keep them down, but it’s really difficult.

I do not feel well. At all.

Beyond my body, there’s my mind. I’m still completely unsure of what to do about the proposal from Liam.

Do I want to marry him?

My gut, which I’m assuming at this point is 99% baby, says hell no. This, of course, makes sense to me.

The baby would like its father to be married to me. I think there’s some kind of biological imperative there, like the baby is in my body telling me what to do with its little baby-mind control stuff.

I huff.

Okay.

Even I know that’s illogical. If babies could control people’s brains, the world would probably be a much more interesting place. Nicer for babies. Everyone would have paid parental leave…

Huh. Baby mind control.

I’m never going to achieve my dreams of being the first female mafia don with a baby.

Our world is so male-dominated, I have to be as tough as the boys if I stand a chance of getting there. It’s like in old Hollywood, where women could never have kids and be considered for a role.

If I’m going to do it, I have to be… different. Curated, sort of, so that the men around me are equally terrified and attracted to me.

That’s the only way I know how to function as a woman in this world. It’s how I’ve had success for years.

There’s just simply no possible way that I can do any of that with a baby.

I think about the fact that I told Sal I couldn’t even date him. Be with him. Fuck, I don’t know what exactly I turned down, but I know that the idea of Sal and I together is one that scared the shit out of me, and I didn’t want to lose myself in him.

But that happened anyway.