ROMANCE: Billion Dollar Question (BWWM Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (African American Alpha Mail Order Bride New Adult)

by Aisha Brooks

  Epilogue

  15 days later…

  As I sit on the steps at the back of my house, I think back to sitting here with Jackson earlier this year. I look back on the conversation we had, how things were and how I used to be, and how things have changed since then. I am a completely different person now.

  Back then, I was a party girl, ruling the office, clubs, and guys. Now, I sit here, pregnant with twin boys without their father by my side, and yet I have managed to be strong. It did not take me too long to accept things as they were, but it did take me a while.

  Kurt left so suddenly that I had no time to take in anything. I was prepared for him to be by my side when I gave birth, not for him to leave so unexpectedly. Nevertheless, the first week since he left was terrible. Every second felt like a ticking bomb, and I felt like I was the bomb. I thought I could go into labor anytime, and every second I wished he would come back, but he didn’t. In fact, I haven’t even heard from him since then.

  But as time went by, I realized that I had to get over this feeling, because this was probably going to be the rest of my life. It wasn’t just me going into labor and giving birth without him, but it was the first thing he would miss; then it would be the children’s first cries, first smiles, first steps, etc. He would miss many milestones in their lives.

  So, after waiting for Kurt to call or text me for a week, I tried putting myself in his shoes, and that is when I understood that he must be actually busy; he was probably involved in some serious operation, because there was nothing else that explained how anyone could ignore their pregnant girlfriend just like that.

  I didn’t text him during the first week because I wanted to see whether he would get in touch with me or not, but after that I didn’t text him because I did not want to worry him. I did not know where he was, and I definitely did not want to make things difficult for him. I knew in my heart that he would come, if he could come. I had seen the happiness and the sparkle in his eyes when he found out I was pregnant, those tears in his eyes were not fake, so I knew he would have come as soon as he could. For his own children, if not for me. On my part, I decided to be strong and march on as well as I could.

  I realize it is nearly 2 in the morning, and even though I am off work, I decide to go back to bed. I rub my huge belly and whisper to my unborn kids, “It’s going to be all right.” I get hunger pangs as I pass the dining table and head to the fridge instead for a little midnight snack. The moment I open the fridge, water splashes on the floor.

  “Damn it, Jackson,” I say, cursing him for putting the bottle carelessly in the fridge. Except that there is no water bottle in the fridge or on the floor. My lungs suddenly crave oxygen and I draw in a huge breath, realizing that my water just broke. I immediately pick my phone and send a message to Kurt:

  “MY WATER JUST BROKE!!!”

  And instantly wish I hadn’t.

  “Sorry, I panicked. I’ll be alright, Kurt. Don’t worry about me, Jackson is with me.”

  I know my doctor told me to wait if my water breaks, that the contractions normally follow soon, but I ring her anyway. She assures me that everything is fine and to call her in fifteen minutes to check with her again if my contractions don’t start. I walk around in the kitchen for about a minute or two, wondering whether or not it’s too soon to wake Jackson up. I draw in another breath and tell myself to calm down, and decide that I’ll wake him up as soon as the contractions begin, even though that might be too early as well. And right after I tell myself that, I head straight to Jackson’s room and turn on the lights.

  Jackson squints, trying to see, raising his eyebrow quizzically like he does.

  “Everything alright, Ver, what is it?”

  “I am in…ah” my contractions begin. “I am in labor, Jackson.”

  “Let’s head to the hospital,” he says, jumping out of bed.

  “No, wait, it’s too soon.”

  “Let’s not take any risks, Ver,” he says, concerned.

  “No, this is normal. It’s gonna be a while before we head to the hospital.”

  Jackson sits me down in his bed and fetches me a glass of milk, all the while comforting me and trying to calm me down. It’s as if a bomb has gone off in my brain, my thoughts running wild, my mind going crazy, only to be occasionally disturbed by a contraction.

  Jackson winces every time I have a contraction, feeling more in labor than myself it seems. And I keep thinking how Kurt would be right now, wincing or comforting me if he were here. I try to push Kurt out of my mind but fail. It doesn’t help when Jackson asks me about Kurt. I shake my head and he stays quiet, although wide-eyed and looking worried. It reminds me of how Jackson was every time I fell ill when we were kids, and now here I was, having kids of my own.

  About 3 hours pass like this, with Jackson bringing me water, milk, and juices, and me drinking and relieving myself frequently. The contractions become quicker.

  “Jackson, I think it’s time, we should head to the hospital,” I say.

  “Sure, let’s go,” he says, but looks at the door. I know he too wishes Kurt were here for me right now.

  “Aaahhhh, JACKSON,” I scream, grabbing him by the collar, “TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU.”

  Jackson starts sweating.

  “Wait outside, let me get the car out.” He says, heading out, then turns around quickly, “Do you need me to walk you out first?”

  “JACKSON,” I say, breathing heavily, “CAR! NOW!”

  The pain has pushed Kurt completely out of my mind. Jackson rushes out the door to get the car, and I slowly walk to the main door. He brings out the car and gets out of it quickly to help me get in.

  “Relax, Ver, relax,” he says in a panicky and calm voice, “you are scaring the hell out of me.”

  “I am scaring the hell out of you?” I almost scream, “try giving birth and see how pleasant the sensation is.”

  He drives and I yell at him to drive more carefully. He slows down and I yell at him to drive fast.

  “Jackson, the babies are coming and I’ll have them in your damned car if you don’t drive faster!”

  Jackson is sweating almost as much as I am. Tough as he is, he has never been in a position or situation like this.

  We reach the hospital and a nurse helps me into a wheelchair.

  “How far along are you?” she says sweetly.

  “How far do you think?” I fire back, then add, “9 months and two weeks.”

  “And how far apart are your contractions,” she asks, still in a sweet voice.

  “8 minutes,” I say, through heavy breaths.

  “And is this your…”

  “He’s my brother,” I state, before she can finish asking the question.

  “This is Vertasha, my sister,” Jackson tells her.

  “Okay, Vertasha, I am going to take you to the examination room for a bit, and then we’ll take you to the labor room.”

  Jackson follows me and stays with me during the examination. She asks about my doctor and calls her in. Then, as she wheels me slowly to the labor room, she asks Jackson if he wants to come. He shakes his head and stands in the hallway. I look at him and he gives me a small, worried smile. Then, as the doors of the labor room close in front of me, I think I get a glimpse of Kurt. A shadow, perhaps, that my mind made up. But, nevertheless, I am glad to see his face.

  “Okay, Vertasha, let’s get you into the birthing chair. You are doing really well, sweety, you are almost there,” my doctor says after my nurse updates her.

  The contractions are longer, stronger, intense, and more painful than anything I have ever experienced in my entire life.

  “Okay, Vertasha, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” says my doctor attentively, “when I tell you to ‘push’, I need you to ‘push’ hard. Do not push until I tell you to push!”

  “No, no, no, we have to wait,” I begin crying, letting out all the tears that have gathered inside me during these last two weeks.
“I can’t do this without him, I need him here.”

  “Who do you…” begins the nurse, when suddenly Kurt enters the room, wearing the hospital clothes and a mask.

  “I am here,” he says, “I am here,” rushing to my side.

  “Kurt,” I begin, “how did you…?” I trail off.

  “Vertasha, I need you to push in 3. 3…2…” says my doctor.

  Kurt takes my hand in his and puts his arm around me.

  “…1, ‘PUSH’” she says.

  “Let’s do this,” says Kurt, squeezing my hand, “PUSH!”

  My moan turns into a scream as I push, taking all my strength.

  “Okay, good, Vertasha, I need you to push again in 3…2…” says my doctor.

  Kurt counts with the doctor and says “Push,” at the same time she does. It takes all the strength I have in my body and then some to push, the pain is intense, the pressure immense, but I push.

  Kurt rushes to the other side as the baby comes out. Kurt, unlike Jackson, is very much in control of the situation. The nurse quickly wraps the baby in a green blanket and Kurt comes back to my side, delighted.

  “Ver, IT’S A GIRL!” he announces, pink color rushing into his cheeks.

  “What?” I am surprised and shocked, but before I can say anything, the doctor is counting again.

  “PUSH,” says Kurt, squeezing my hand again.

  It takes another 16 minutes and then the baby finally comes out.

  “Aaanndd…that’s my boy,” Kurt almost screams, announcing the arrival of our boy.

  The nurses wrap our babies in green blankets and take them away as Kurt brushes his hand through my hair.

  “You look absolutely stunning,” he says.

  “I look fat,” I say.

  “Vertasha,” he says in a serious tone, “About the…”

  “All that matters is that you are here now,” I say, interrupting him.

  As the nurses congratulate us, I try to relax. I close my eyes for an instant and head to the dreamland. When I wake up, I am in a private room, two cots on the side holding our babies. Jackson and his girlfriend congratulate me thrice, in unison.

  “It’s twins, you guys,” I say as I thank them.

  But as I move my hand to pull the blanket over me, I notice a titanium band studded with yellow diamonds on my ring finger. I look up and my eyes search for Kurt.

  “We’ll leave you to it,” Jackson says, walking out of the room with his girlfriend.

  I look at Kurt and see him smiling at me. His brilliant grin, slightly flirtatious, teasing, and equally proud. He is a proud papa, and he is going to be a great one, I know that now. I know he won’t miss anything, not now.

  “Did you propose when…” I begin, but he shakes his head.

  “You know, you are supposed to get down on one knee for this. The least you could have done is asked.” I say.

  “I thought you’d say yes,” he says, grinning.

  I smile.

  “Yes.”

  The Russian Billionaire’s Baby

  A BWWM Romance

  This deliciously dirty story is a part of Aisha Brooks’ super-charged, highly lewd collection of love and lust, written in 2015. Those who attempt to steal any part of this goldmine and take it as their own risk being a fiery, hot death from a hunk bearing copyright notices—and she’s not about to play with you.

  This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or a thing you hold dear to your heart is nothing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!

  It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!

  Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to explore their carnal desires all day long.

  In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!

  © Aisha Brooks

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any many whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. Please note that this work is intended only for adults age 18 and over. All characters represented are age 18 or over.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1: Bodyguard's Appeal

  Chapter 2:The Next Notch In His Headboard

  Chapter 3: One Night In Italy

  Chapter 4: Reunion

  Chapter 1: Bodyguard's Appeal

  Maria's eyes surveyed the room as she walked in. Behind a shiny mahogany desk sat a plump middle age receptionist. The floor was carpeted in a bright wine color and the white stone walls were trimmed with swirling details that matched. Whoever had designed the place had good taste, but she wasn't sure the same could be said for the man she was about to meet with. She had found out about Vadim Kopsov from a friend of her agent. He was the best in the body guard business and didn't mind working in high stakes and high risk areas.

  Unfortunately, that's just what Maria needed at the moment. She'd spent the last six months hiding after becoming a cooperate whistle blower to one of the most powerful organizations state side. Things were messy before her book was released. Now they were bordering on insane. At first, Maria was able to ignore the death threats. Most of them proved to be nothing more than someone trying to scare her into backing down.

  Two nights ago, things got personal. She was walking home from the corner store and was attacked by two men. Maria managed to make use of her teenage years spent in martial arts classes to escape to safety, but she had a feeling that she'd used up her only secret weapon in one swift move. Next time, they wouldn't make the same mistake. The local police department had offered her protection, but cops played by the rules and criminals didn't.

  Maria knew most women would run for cover with their tails tucked and forget about carrying out the fight, but Maria wasn't most women. She'd never backed down from a fight before and she wasn't about to start now. The voice in the back of her head told her to fear for her life, but she refused to let fear dictate her actions. Maria had always preferred the proactive approach which was why she was here for a three fifteen meeting with Vadim Kopsov.

  Vadim hailed from Russia and it was rumored that his family may have been active in the KGB before its fall and may or may not have went onto start their own mafia. Maria didn't care what his family did or what Vadim's body count was. She needed a man who was willing to break the law if it became necessary and all signs pointed to Vadim for the job.

  Behind the desk was a body length mirror. The receptionist cut most of it off, but Maria was able to check her ebony reflection briefly before being noticed. It was only early autumn, but she wore a red turtle neck to hide the wounds on her neck and shoulders from the fight. She wasn't embarrassed of the injury, but didn't want to garner looks of 'abused wife pity' either.

  “Miss. Hall?” the receptionist looked up at her through narrow glasses.

  “Correct,” Maria gave a curt nod.

  “Mr. Kopsov is ready to see you.”

  “Thank you,” Maria nodded and followed the receptionist down the hall. The carpet was the same wine color, but the walls had painted with murals of snowy mountains.

  “Unusual for a man with such dangerous connections,” Maria pondered to herself.

  The receptionist knocked twice and waited for a response. She stood with h
er hands clasped behind her back and tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Enter,” a thickly accented voice called through the door. A shiver danced down Maria's spine as it wrapped around her. The no nonsense tone told her everything she needed to know about Vadim Kopsov. He wasn't a man to be messed with.

  The receptionist opened the door and nodded to her. She thanked her politely and walked into the office. The door shut behind her and she found herself not face to face with the war beaten middle aged man she had imagined Vadim to be, but a man who made her heart skip a beat.