The Mafia Don’s Contract Wife Chapter 01

The Mafia Don’s Contract Wife Chapter 01

I got pregnant unexpectedly.

But my husband—Mafia don Vincenzo Santini—and I had a marriage of convenience, and we were on the verge of divorce.

I was still wrestling with whether to tell him when I accidentally overheard him talking with his right-hand man, Luca.

“Finalize the division details quickly,” he said, “the deadline’s approaching.”

I dismissed the thought and waited for him to bring up the divorce.

But when the deadline passed, Vincenzo did nothing.

I left the divorce papers and ran away, unaware I was carrying his child.

My periods had never been regular.

Between pulling all-nighters on set and having a completely messed-up sleep schedule, a delay of ten days or so was practically the norm for me.

But this time, it was over forty days late.

Even so, I never considered pregnancy before going to the hospital.

I went numb when I got the results.

I sat on the bench, thinking for ages, then snapped out of it.

What was there to figure out?

In nearly two years of contract marriage, Vincenzo and I had slept together only once.

At the wrap party that night, I’d had too much to drink and somehow wandered into the wrong room.

When I pushed the door open, I locked eyes with Vincenzo, fresh out of the shower.

He was shirtless, a loose towel slung around his waist, water dripping from his hair.

In that moment, I couldn’t tell if it was lust taking over or the alcohol frying my brain.

Somehow, I detected a hint of softness in his stunned expression.

I boldly pushed him onto the bed.

I straddled his waist, groping blindly, and teased him like a shameless flirt.

“Bit older, but you’ve kept your figure,” I said.

“Speaking of size, yours…”

I couldn’t recall Vincenzo’s reaction.

All I remembered was the sound of our ragged breathing mixing together, and the way Vincenzo’s voice sounded—restrained, strained.

“We don’t have any protection,” he ground out.

He paused mid-movement.

Dizzy and burning with desire, I rolled over and bit him.

“You’re so quiet normally, yet so talkative in bed,” I taunted. “Are you impotent?”

“Even if you are, you have to perform your husbandly duty tonight!”

I yanked off his towel as I spoke.

He said nothing more all night, proving his prowess with actions alone.

The bolder I’d been that night, the more ashamed I felt sneaking away the next morning.

After all, besides being my husband on paper, Vincenzo was the most powerful Mafia don in all of New York. Even the talent agency I was signed to was part of the Santini family’s empire.

I sighed, staring at the test results in my hand.

I hadn’t decided whether to keep the baby.

Or if I should tell Vincenzo.

According to our contract, we were getting divorced next month.

Blurting out the pregnancy now, I feared he’d think I’d done it on purpose, trying to blackmail him with the baby.

That kind of thing was a tired old play in wealthy, high-society circles. And I had been the aggressor that night. To make it worse, I’d forgotten to take the morning-after pill.

Everything seemed too convenient.

My mind was a mess. I didn’t hear my phone ringing until someone tapped my shoulder.

I glanced at the caller ID—Vincenzo.

I froze, then answered.

His voice was as cold as ever.

“Where are you?”

“At the hospital.”

Silence hung on the line. “Are you unwell?”

I snapped back to reality, scrambling for an excuse.

“Just an old chronic issue,” I lied.

“Stay there. I’m coming.”

It took me two minutes after hanging up to realize he was coming to pick me up.

I shoved the report into my bag and looked down at my stomach. It was still perfectly flat.

Just over a month along, there was no sign of the life growing inside me.