She faints in a grocery store—but the mafia boss who catches her notices hidden bruises and uncovers a truth that changes everything

to endure.

Six months later, on a snowy February morning, Allara stood in the back office of the bookshop staring at a pregnancy test.

Two pink lines.

When Nikolai came in shaking snow from his coat, he saw her face and crossed the room in three steps.

“What’s wrong?”

She held out the test.

He stared at it.

Then at her.

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.”

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