Knocked Up by the Mob Boss - A Mafia Romance

KSA

linds covering the window, but part of me doesn't want to know. If the sun has set, then I've been here too long. If the street below is e

ell are you st

e desk, my wheels squealing, prepared to fight off the intruder. It takes

in br

s the door closed and drops down into the leather chair across from my desk. The focused light of my

me. Why do you sound so s

se I hoped I was wrong about you, but appare

is all I've ever known. From the moment I was born, there were expectations, and I've always been willing to kill myself to meet them. No

e family legacy. We were conceived in the same moment, but because he took his first breaths one hundred and twenty seconds before me, he has to inherit the

breezily, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.

could tell from the moment he walked in that something was wrong. Not to mention, he rarely visits m

see him is when I finally head home after a late night in the office to find him passed out on my sofa. It is how he knows bette

of his jeans. He looks like he could do with a shave and a shower, but I long

damp from where it was pressed agains

s I took the letter from h

l corrects. "I found it

ender knew where you lived, and they want you to know they could access you at any time. Of course, Father knows where Mikhail and I live-he

you re

in his chair so it rocks backwards on the rear legs. "It wa

it open and, for the first time, the hole in the center. It really had be

kh

be an embarrassment to this family. Fail me aga

V

pulled back in a snarl. "Like he doesn't want to con

. Though I won't

t spot has been firming up with each new indiscretion. For years, Mikhail's vices were relegated to his personal life. He spent his free time in clubs and bars and

nd him, and when they do, he is too sick to be of any use. Father has done his best to impress upon Mikhail the importance of his role in our family, but Mikhail

n something. His blue eyes are the clearest I've seen them in the last few months. It won't be long before he'll give in again to the pull of the drug

h reality yet. If he feels backed into a corner, he'll crawl into some hole, shoot up, and disappear for a w

ong a book on my shelf, but when he realizes how badly it is shak

the first time I've seen you in four days. I

ther it is heated with shame or anger. "You are in you

st you find a higher bar to jump over," I say. "Just because

o come over him all at once, and he moves back to the chair and flops do

ugh. And yet, the reality still doesn't seem to have sunk in. "You are the on

o his head, a couple inches shorter than mine now, but his fingers still grab

n't want to be second-in-command. My entire life has been spent in the background of my family, and I've come to enjoy the shadows. If our father follows through on his threat, I'll be the new recipi