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I got pregnant twice.
Ask me how.
Same man. Same ridiculous jawline, same brooding glare.
The first time? One night. No names. Just a perfect man who vanished before sunrise.
Surprise! Baby number one.
Fast-forward four years. I’m on a ladder outside a California mansion (don’t ask), and of course, I fall off the damn ladder…
And land in his arms.
Yeah. Him. The one with the fake name, the real empire, and the kind of money that just begs a girl to spend it.
He’s not just back. He the one who owns the house. And worse?
He wants another night with me.
And because I make great decisions under pressure… I give him one.
Oops. Pregnant again.
Now I’ve got one secret baby, one incoming baby, and a mafia boss with trust issues breathing down my neck… and my thighs.
I should run.
But between the bulletproof cars, private chefs, and late-night visits to his very expensive bedroom…
I’m kind of busy.
And falling for him?
That was never supposed to happen, even once… let alone twice.
