Owned by the Mob Boss

by Ashley Hall

  “Thanks, Mom.” I gave her one last hug that ended up being a long one because I couldn’t bring myself to let go at first. Be strong, Rachel. I pulled away, stood, and managed to walk to the door without looking back.

  But then my mom called out to me. “Promise me one thing, Rachel.”

  “Anything.” I turned around and waited expectantly.

  “Don’t put your life on hold for me. Okay?”

  I hesitated.

  “And don’t you dare stop living if I die,” my mom added firmly. “I want you to have everything life has to offer. Okay? Promise me.”

  “Mom! I can’t—”

  “Promise me.”

  “Fine. I’ll promise if you promise not to die.”

  My mom’s eyes clouded over. “You know I can’t—”

  “Promise me you won’t stop living until…”

  Understanding flashed in my mother’s eyes. “I promise.”

  “I promise too.”

  For a moment, the amount of time it took for me to leave my mom’s room to return to my room and start packing, I felt better, but then the fear of leaving my mom here alone formed a terrible pit in my stomach. I threw some clothes into a suitcase, grabbed some toiletries, and hurried to the front door, where the bodyguard was still waiting for me. He took the suitcase from me, and I grabbed my cell phone and charger. There. Now I was set to go…well, as set as I could be.

  Before the bodyguard could open the door, there was a knock. Confused, I sprang forward and opened it.

  A kindly gray-haired woman smiled at me. “Hello. You must be Rachel. I’m here for your mother.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. I’m to be her nurse.” And she bustled into the place, walking straight in as if she had every right to be there.

  What in the world? How did she know? Who was she? She could be anyone. A crazy person. A serial killer.

  I glanced at the bodyguard. He nodded.

  So Ivan was behind this. He was making sure my mom was taken care of while I was away. It was a touching gesture, and something I hadn’t at all expected from someone like the kind of man Ivan was. This was all happening way too fast. I had wanted to do some research on Ivan, to learn who exactly he was, but it was too late now. What was done was done. The ink had dried on the contract, and now I was legally bound to have sex with Ivan up to four times a week until he got me pregnant. And if nine months passed, and I gave birth to a girl, I would have to go through it again. Another sex binge session. Another pregnancy. Another baby to give up.

  Still, he obviously wasn’t a complete monster. He had not been obligated to send a nurse here to stay with Mom. It was kind of moving. It made leaving a little bit easier, and it made my heart soften a little bit toward him. Mom will be taken care of. She’ll be looked after. She’s in good hands.

  “Ready?” the bodyguard asked.

  I nodded and squared my shoulders. Time to leave. Time to take the next step.

  The bodyguard walked out first, and I followed him out to a sleek black car. He put my suitcase in the trunk and opened the back door.

  I pointed to the passenger door. “I’ll sit up with you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you a bodyguard or a chauffeur?”

  He grinned. “It is possible to be both.”

  “You aren’t transporting goods. You’re transporting a person. I’m not a special delivery. I’ll sit up front.”

  He closed the back door and opened the front for me. “If you insist.”

  “Thank you.” But I hesitated. “I don’t need you to open doors for me.”

  “Force of habit.”

  I frowned. “Because of working for Ivan.”

  The bodyguard laughed. “No. My mom instilled good manners into me. A man should open the door for a woman. I swear, I’m doing it to be nice, not for the job.”

  “In that case, thank you.” But I still hesitated. “I didn’t mean to come across—”

  “You’re fine, Rachel,” he insisted.

  I blinked. I kind of expected him to call me something more formal.

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Around others, I will refer to you as Ms. Nevison, but I thought you might prefer I call you Rachel when we’re alone.”

  “I do. Yes. Thank you.”

  The bodyguard was quiet for the drive, and I didn’t pester him with questions, even though I did wonder what his name was. At least he seemed like a good enough guy, and I liked that he didn’t treat me like a freak for agreeing to something so crazy. I also appreciated that he didn’t treat me like I was royalty or anything like that, although I had a feeling he treated Ivan very differently from how he treated me.

  And Ivan…well, I didn’t know what to think about him. I turned on my phone and did a little research, but all in all, there wasn’t a ton of info on him online. Now he didn’t have a hand in that, did he? He was obviously powerful, but no one could control the internet.

  I put my phone away and stared out my window. Gradually, the houses grew wider and wider apart, as well as taller and more elegant. I’d never been to this part of town before. All of the stores had me way priced out, and the restaurants that had a price tag of at least one hundred a plate weren’t on my agenda either. And the houses? They were worth way too much for me to even look at.

  The bodyguard turned down another street. At the top of a hill stood the most majestic house yet. It had four stories and stretched so wide it might be big enough to have its own zip code. A tall, wrought iron gate greeted us. The bodyguard stepped out of the car and imput a code into a metal box. The gates swung open noiselessly. He climbed back in and drove up the driveway. Through the rearview mirror, I watched the gates close behind us. It was ridiculous, but I felt trapped and closed in, and my chest grew tight, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Are you all right?” the bodyguard asked.

  I nodded. The panic subsided slowly as I stared at the mansion. The walls were perfectly white, and there were even pillars on the front porch. The lawn was precisely cut without a patch of dead grass anywhere. The front of the house was full of beautiful flowers. Along the side of the driveway were shaped bushes. Most were made into shapes like triangles or squares, but a few were more intricately shaped, and a few were cut into animals. Far to the left was a fountain.

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Impressive, right?” The bodyguard grinned at me. “Just wait until you see the inside.”

  He pulled in front of a four-car garage, but he didn’t park inside it. He climbed out, and even though he probably planned on opening my door for me, I got out by myself and closed the door.

  “If you would follow me.”

  I trailed behind him, looking everywhere, soaking in the sights. I felt like I was a tourist, about to walk into a historic home of someone important.

  Ivan is important. An important mob boss.

  I shuddered. Would I ever forgive myself for agreeing to do this? Yes, it was necessary, and I didn’t have a choice, but it still felt wrong to be paid to have a man’s baby. It was worse than just being a prostitute. This was giving up a child. Giving life to a baby and then abandoning him or her to what kind of a life? His or her father was a mobster!

  If I kept thinking like this, I would never be able to go through with it. I had to stay focused. My mom had a nurse staying with her. She was being taken care of, and by doing this, it ensured Mom would be able to continue her treatments even though my health insurance would run out soon.

  The bodyguard carried my suitcase for me and opened one of the two massive front doors. I walked inside to a breathtakingly beautiful house. Exquisite artwork lined the walls. The floor was a beautiful black-and-white geometrical design. Every so many feet were small tables with vases on top. No photographs, I noticed.

  “Your coat?” the bodyguard asked as he opened a closet.

  I shrugged out of it and handed it to him.

  “This way.” The bodyguard walked down t
he hall, and I followed close behind.

  To my disappointment, we bypassed several rooms, and I realized he wasn’t going to give me a tour. Of course not. I’m not important. I’m just a walking uterus. Baby maker. Nothing more.

  Still, I was disappointed. The person who did the interior design of this place did a phenomenal job, and I would’ve loved to see how each and every room was laid out.

  We climb a massive staircase, and down a low-lit hallway, the bodyguard opened the last door on the left. “Here you go.”

  I walked inside a large bedroom. The bed was huge with black stain sheets. There were two windows with similar curtains to the sheets. The curtain reached all the way to the wooden floor. There was a bureau, a dresser, a nightstand, and a desk, all in cherry oak. The walls were a slightly off-white color. Only one piece of art hung on the wall, directly above the bed—a stark red rose, full and beautiful on a black background, a single petal falling down, halfway to joining the sole petal at the bottom.

  Curious, I opened and closed each bureau and dresser drawer and then opened the closet. All of it was full of clothes, and most if not all appeared to be in my size.

  “Do you need anything?” the bodyguard asked.

  I whirled around, feeling guilty. I’d forgotten he was still standing in the doorway.

  “I’m…I’m good, I think. Thanks.”

  He nodded. “Ivan will attend to you later.”

  And he left me all alone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ivan

  The sight of my house almost made some of my stress go away. I needed a stiff drink or two. Maybe five. That the bastard Vanya Golovkin had dared to send someone to spy on me…he needed to be put into his place—which was buried six feet under without a coffin. Just an unmarked grave. A dump, not a grave.

  I was trembling with rage, and I had to relax, to calm myself. Being rash would lead to mistakes, and I never made mistakes. I could handle myself. I would take care of Golovkin. No one would threaten me or mine again. I had raised up from the ashes once. I would not dare allow anyone the chance to burn me to the ground again. My empire would reign for long after my lifetime, and it would reign through my heir, through my blood. And speaking of my blood, not another drop of Kovalsky blood would ever be spilled by a foe.

  A plan. I always operated with a plan. Attention to detail kept me alive. I had squared off against other foes in my time since I took over the Kovalsky mob, and I had always won the battle.

  But this with Golovkin wasn’t just a battle. It was war.

  The outcome, however, would be the same. I would win. I didn’t doubt that for a second.

  I always kept an eye on my surroundings, even when I didn’t actively feel threatened, and as I waited at a red light, I checked all of my mirrors. Sometimes I used a chauffeur, but lately, I’d been driving myself, and tonight was no exception. I liked the feel of the gear stick in my hand, of being in complete control. Plus, no one would do a better job of keeping an eye out for my own safety than myself. Tails never could follow me for long. I knew this city and the streets and alleys better than anyone. I knew how to make myself disappear, whether in a car or on foot. I had a lot of friends here.

  But right now, friends weren’t enough. I needed my most trusted men. I needed to be sure of who I putting my faith in. Too much was at stake. I didn’t need protection as much as I needed loyalty. In the mob life, it was loyalty or it never had been anything at all.

  No one was following me. The roads were mostly deserted, but that did little to settle my nerves. A few more twists and turns, a few more miles, and I parked my car inside the garage and entered the house. Just down the hall, I opened the hall closet to put away my coat when I noticed an unfamiliar coat hanging up inside. Damn. I had almost forgotten about my arrangement with Rachel Nevison.

  Although I barely knew her, I had done a lot of research on both her and her mother. I hadn’t been about to send Leo over with the contract until I knew enough about her to decide if she was a possible option or not, and what I found more than satisfied me. I knew about her lack of a job outside of our arrangement. I knew about her past boyfriends. I knew she preferred bad boys, and that I would be by far the baddest boy she would ever be with.

  I also gathered that despite her taste in guys, she was pretty much an innocent. She had never committed a crime, not even a speeding ticket. She wasn’t meant to be colored by the blackness of my world.

  But I needed a woman like that, one I might be able to trust. Not that I could share details about the mob with her, not that I would. But I could trust her to not seek out the media, that she wouldn’t start spending the money foolishly and draw attention to herself. That was all I would ask of her. In exchange, I would keep her safe. Vanya Golovkin would never learn about her. Despite the danger to my person, she would never be threatened. She deserved that much for all she was giving me.

  One of the ways I knew immediately that she might make for a good choice was because she didn’t ask for more money. If she had, a red flag would’ve been raised. Maybe she would prove herself to be worth more, and if that was the case, I would be willing to compensate her. I knew why she was doing this—not for me, not for herself, but for her mother. Another reason to not bother to look at other options. Family meant a great deal to her.

  I just hoped it didn’t mean too much to her. The child I would impregnate her with would be mine, not hers, not ours. Mine.

  After hanging up my coat, I went straight upstairs and quietly opened the door to the guest room I’d left instructions for Leo to put her in. Leo was one of my friends in addition to being one of my guards. He would protect her and watch over her as he would me. She was in good hands with him.

  I peeked inside her guest room to find her half asleep in bed. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and I almost felt wrong for putting her in this position, for involving her in my life, especially when my life was touched by darkness right now. But I needed an heir. I should’ve had one already. It was ironic. When I was on top of the world, being with whatever woman I wanted to be, the idea of settling down never occurred to me. I wasn’t ready to be married, to be tied down. I enjoyed my freedom.

  Now that my status at the top was in question, I desperately needed to ensure that my line would not die with me. I wasn’t egotistical enough to believe that death would not come for me. As much as I would do everything in my power to ensure that I did not die at the hands of Vanya Golovkin, it might still happen. An heir was necessary.

  And the idea of having a son was one that I couldn’t get out of my mind now. I had built an empire, had expanded on my father’s work, and I had a legacy to leave to him. Which I’ll give to him after I die from old age.

  And Rachel would be the one to give me that son. I entered the room to get a better look at her, and she stirred. Maybe I should have closed the door and left her to sleep for the night, but I didn’t. Selfish.

  Rachel sat up, and the sheet fell away. She was rumpled with sleep, and her tank top left little to the imagination. I wanted her. Desired her. Lust, pure and simple. I hadn’t lied when I called her just pretty, but there was something that drew me to her. Maybe because she had come to me for a business arrangement, and she wasn’t falling all over herself to be at my feet. She didn’t want me for my name. She didn’t even want me.

  A part of me wanted that to be a challenge. To make her want me, not just my money. Rachel, with her hair tousled from sleep, those doe-like bedroom eyes, her long, slender neck.

  Yes, lust would make this arrangement that much more enjoyable, for me at least. And I knew my way around a woman’s body. I would make it that much more enjoyable for her as well.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I crossed the room to her bed and took her into my arms. And again, before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing her, and she was kissing back. Already, she was moaning loudly. I loved how responsive she was to me, how she eased her body against mine, how she opened her mouth for me,
how she allowed me to move her head to angle it just right. I knew this was just a business transaction, but right now I wasn’t thinking about making babies or the money I would be paying her. I was only thinking about her luscious lips and how much I wanted to fuck her.

  I was wearing clothes. How in the hell was I in bed with her when I was still wearing clothes? This simply wasn’t acceptable. I pulled back, breaking off the kiss, but she leaned forward and licked me, licked my jawline, and ended up with her tongue in my mouth. Again.

  Holy. Fuck.

  I had grown hard the moment I saw her in her state of dishevelment, and I had grown harder during the kiss, but right now, I was so hard I thought I was going to burst. My cock was pressing against my clothes, and I wanted it freed, free to fuck her.