Ten.
Twenty Four Weeks Pregnant...
I look down at my swelling belly, which is about the size of a well-inflated basketball, and I allow my hands to rub across the surface of my abdomen, where I can feel my baby's small movements beneath my fingertips.
"What's taking them so long?" Ace mutters as he examines his watch, his brows furrowed with impatience as he glares at the door every few seconds.
"We literally just walked into the room." I scowl at him with annoyance and roll my eyes heavenward; his attitude has really started to get on my nerves lately and the last thing I want is for him to sit here whining like a three-year child.
I was practically begging him not to come with me this morning before we left the Mansion, I just really wanted some peace and harmony and after listening to him bitch most of the night about chaperoning me to another appointment had me screaming inwardly as I pictured myself tearing out my hair.
The appointments appear to be too time-consuming for him when he could be doing more productive things with his time.
Like,
Robbery, kidnapping an innocent child to convey Trent's message or loitering at bars to incite a brawl for entertainment purposes.
'Fucking Jerk!' My inner Goddess hisses with contempt and I don't bother trying to silence her as we've been seeing eye to eye lately where Ace is concerned.
Today we are destined to learn the gender of the baby; personally, I'm praying for a little boy; I have zero trust in anyone at the Mansion. My worst fear is that if Trent ever settles down and has children of his own, he will want my daughter for his first son, keeping the families united within his empire which scares the living daylights out of me.
Trent is unfit to be a father; he will screw his children over with his sick, tormented methods, infecting the world with his intoxicating ways and I don't want my daughter stuck with him as a father in law, I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy.
I mean shit!
After Ace delivered his wonderful news to Trent and his army of goons, they celebrated by drinking copious amounts of liquor and hiring underage girls to dance for them as they rough-housed their way through the night, taking whatever they desired from each and every girl.
I could hear their stifling cries seeping through the cracks in Trent's office wall as I was forced to perform one final act before cutting my ties in reference to the jobs the almighty Trent had lined up for me, he assured me the severed ties were only temporary and that once their prince is born, I would return to work, expressing my gratitude to the Mafia for their unflinching endurance in keeping me safe from the Irishmen.
When I allow myself to wander down memory lane, I rub my wrists; the phantom pains still crawl along my skin. If you, like me, have sworn black and blue that your tears have no smell, I can assure you that you are incorrect.
The moment you have been stripped of your clothes and eyesight. It will heighten your other senses and when you are tied to a wooden chair with no cushion, your feet bound to the legs of the chair, putting your bare vagina on full display for sick fucks like Trent to stare at while they stroke themselves, yelling out profanities and coating you with their jizz.
Your heart shrivels up, turning black, and eventually degrades into a useless organ within you.
The tears you cry, soaking through the blindfold obscuring your reddened puffy eyes slowly start to gain a very distinct smell of rich ammonia that will stay with you for a very long time.
A knock at the door draws me back to the present and I watch as the handle jiggles before it turns and is pushed open.
"About fucking time." Ace mutters under his breath, putting his phone away and rises from his seat, standing at my side as he takes my hand in his.
"My name's Ian, I'll be your sonographer this morning." As he enters the room, a handsome man around my age says. "Sorry for the wait, I had an urgent matter that required my attention." He apologizes with his gaze fixed on the file in his hands.
"That's okay," I reply as my cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as my eyes are glued to his well-toned ass cheeks.
I wince, raising my eyes to Ace, who is glaring at me as he squeezes my hand.
"Appointments are solely made for a reason, if we can make it on time what's your excuse when you're in the same fucking building?" Ace sneers at the sonographer as he rolls his shoulders back.
I watch with wide eyes as Ian takes a seat and places the file on the table next to him as he begins preparing for my ultrasound, unfazed in the least by Ace's remark.
"We appreciate your punctuality, but as I previously stated, I had an urgent matter that required my attention. If you wish to depart and schedule another appointment, you are welcome to do so." Ian raises his head gradually, meeting Ace's glare with his own and a slight smirk painted across his handsome face.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, attempting to conceal the smile that threatens to break out when I peer up and Ace's jaw drops. He is unaccustomed to people speaking back to him, and when they do, he becomes enraged, while I find it mildly amusing.
"How about you and I-"
"No!" I quickly cut Ace off before he can finish his statement. "we will like to keep or appointment thank you." When Aces grip tightens, I discreetly remove my hand from his clasp, rubbing my hand to alleviate the discomfort he's inflicted on me.
I look up to see Ian watching me, aware that Ace is physically hurting me. "You sure, Mila?" He asks me with a concerning tone.
"Yeah," I gulp, "we are meant to find out the sex of our baby today, and I'm really excited." I try to contain to tremble in my voice.
Excitement is the last emotion that engulfs me. In other circumstances, I would prefer a baby girl; every woman wishes to have a daughter she can dress up in pretty little dresses and hair bows. In this instance, I'm pleading for a boy because I'm confident he'll be more treasured than a girl in Ace's eyes.
"Very well," Ian gives me a curt nod, picking up a bottle and shakes it. "Raise your top for me," after waiting for me to raise my top, he places a small towel into the waistband of my skirt.
"No peeking, perv." Ace grumbles loudly enough for us to hear him, and I clear my throat in the hope Ian missed his remark.
Ian squirts the gel onto my abdomen, "Shit!" I scoff; the gel was indeed cold, and despite his warning, I wasn't expecting it to be that cold.
"Alright, let us see if we can get this baby to reveal its gender," Ian says, pressing the transducer onto my protruding belly and begins moving it around.
I nibble on the inside of my bottom lip, anxiousness smashing into me like waves against the shorelines, and the longer I stare at the screen with my baby squirming around, the more my heart feels as if it's going to explode.
My reservations about loving this baby vanish, replaced by a deathly sense of duty to protect this little human with my life, and I suddenly realise that regardless of the gender of this baby, I will always put my life on the line to safeguard it from the Mafia.
"Whoo-hoo, It's a fucking prince!!" Ace yells at the top of his lungs, erupting the silence in the atmosphere and raises his hands above his head. "Look at the size of his wiener!"












