Secretly Shopping While Eight Months Pregnant—Then I Saw My Ex, a Mafia Boss

"Call Dr. Mercer!" Mateo yelled at the guard beside him, dropping his weapon to grab my shoulders. "Get him on the phone now!"

"The storm took out the main cell tower on the ridge ten minutes ago, Mateo!" the guard shouted back, panic bleeding into his voice. "Landlines are dead! Radio signal is pure static!"

"Drive to his clinic!"

"It's twenty miles away through five inches of unplowed mountain roads! It'll take two hours!"

I gripped Mateo’s tactical vest so hard my fingernails dug through the fabric. "Mateo... the contractions... they are two minutes apart. She’s coming. Right now."

Mateo looked terrified—more terrified than I had ever seen him when facing loaded guns. "Mrs. Vitale... I... I don't know how to deliver a baby!"

"Mrs. Gable!" I gasped through gritted teeth as another massive wave of pain tore through my pelvis. "Get Mrs. Gable! And bring... bring hot water, clean towels, and the trauma kit from Nico’s study!"

Within three minutes, Mrs. Gable was in the room, her hair messily pulled into a nightcap, her hands shaking as she laid clean white towels across the master bed.

"Oh, my poor child," Mrs. Gable wept, helping me onto the mattress. "It's too early! She’s six weeks early!"

"She's ready," I panted, stripping off my wet trousers, pushing my back up against the headboard. My nursing training—the hours I had spent studying obstetrics at Cook County and reading textbooks in my lonely apartment—flooded back into my mind, cutting through the agonizing pain like a searchlight in the dark.

"Mrs. Gable," I ordered, my voice surprisingly sharp and clear. "Check the dilation. Wash your hands with iodine first."

The old woman obeyed, her trembling fingers performing the exam.

"Ten centimeters," Mrs. Gable whispered, her eyes wide with shock. "I can... I can see the top of her head! Dark hair!"

A sudden, loud explosion rocked the foundation of the house.

BOOM.

The crystal glass in the windows rattled violently. Dust fell from the high plaster ceiling. Downstairs, automated alarm sirens began to wail, flashing red light across the snow outside the windows.

Mateo’s radio crackled to life with frantic, static-laced screaming.

“Breach at the south gate! Two SUVs rammed the barriers! They're in the courtyard! They have heavy weapons—!”

The radio cut out into high-pitched static.

"Moretti," Mateo growled, drawing his weapon. "Nico’s meeting was a distraction. They sent the main hit squad here to take out the estate."

"Mateo, no!" I screamed, grabbing his arm as another massive contraction hit me, making my body arch off the mattress. "Don't leave us!"

"I have six men in the hallway, Mrs. Vitale," Mateo said, his eyes hard as flint. "Nobody enters this room while I am breathing. Deliver that child!"

He stepped out into the hallway, slamming the heavy oak doors shut. Seconds later, the hallway erupted into a terrifying deafening hell of automatic gunfire, screaming men, and shattering glass.

Bullets punched through the plaster walls near the top of the ceiling, spraying white dust down onto the bed.

Mrs. Gable screamed, dropping to her knees by the side of the bed, covering her head.

"Mrs. Gable!" I roared over the sound of automatic rifle fire echoing outside the door. "Look at me! Look at me right now!"

The old woman looked up, trembling violently, tears streaming down her wrinkled face.

"You are going to help me deliver this baby!" I shouted, tears mixing with sweat on my face. "Ignore the guns! Ignore the noise! On the next contraction... I am going to push!"