Pregnant and Running Back to My Mafia Ex

Dominic's fingers twisted in my hair again, yanking me up so hard my feet left the ground for a moment. I cried out, tears streaming down my face as he dragged me across the kitchen floor.

"Stand up," he snarled, forcing me to my feet. His face inches from mine, eyes dark with rage. "Now listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once."

His grip tightened until I thought he'd tear my scalp open. I could smell his expensive cologne mixed with Camilla's perfume.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone - and I mean anyone - I will make you suffer in ways you can't imagine." His voice dropped to a whisper that made my blood run cold. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for death. But I won't give you that mercy."

"Please," I whimpered, trying to ease the pressure on my scalp. "I won't-"

He slammed me against the wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. "I'm not finished." His other hand wrapped around my throat. "I have connections you can't even dream of. There's nowhere you can hide that I won't find you. No one who can protect you from what I'll do."

Camilla's heels clicked across the floor as she approached. "And trust me, darling - he can be very creative when he wants to be." She traced a manicured nail down my tear-stained cheek. "We both can."

"Do you understand what will happen if you open your pretty little mouth?" Dominic's fingers flexed against my throat.

I nodded frantically, spots dancing in my vision from lack of air.

"Say it," he growled.

"I understand," I choked out. "I won't tell anyone. I swear."

"Say it again." His grip tightened, fingernails digging into my skin.

Something snapped inside me. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth from where he'd slammed me earlier. I gathered it and spat directly in his face, watching the red streak down his perfect cheek.

"Fuck you."

The crack of his hand across my face sent me sprawling onto the marble floor. My head spun as he grabbed my ankle, dragging me across the foyer towards the front door. My dress rode up, skin scraping against the cold stone.

"Go pimp yourself out somewhere else, you worthless bitch." He threw me onto the wet pavement outside. "And remember what I said - one word to anyone, and you're dead."

Camilla's high-pitched laughter echoed from behind him. "Bye bye, darling. Do try to land on your feet."

The heavy door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the downpour. Rain mixed with blood and tears as I lay there, my whole body screaming in pain. The water soaked through my torn dress, making the cuts and bruises sting even more.

Everything I'd believed in, everything I'd hoped for - it was all a lie. The perfect life I thought I'd build with Dominic crumbled around me like ashes in the rain.

I pushed myself up to my knees, tilting my face to the dark sky. The rain washed over me as a scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. All the pain, all the betrayal, all the rage poured out until my voice gave out.

"I'll make you pay," I whispered hoarsely. "Both of you. I swear to God, I'll make you pay."

…

The whiskey burned my throat as I downed another shot, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache inside. My hands shook as I placed the empty glass on the sticky bar counter.

A group of women at a nearby table whispered and pointed. I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar - mascara streaked down my cheeks, hair matted with rain and blood, designer dress torn at the shoulder. The bruises on my neck had already started darkening to an ugly purple.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, the cracked screen reflecting the dim bar lights like scattered diamonds. Who could I call? The police? I almost laughed at the thought. Dominic's connections ran deep - I'd end up being the one in handcuffs while he walked free.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through my contacts. Friends? What friends? He'd systematically cut them all out of my life over the past year.

The names blurred together as I kept scrolling, until one made me freeze.

Lorenzo Constantine.

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't thought about him in years - hadn't allowed myself to. We'd dated for two years in college before life pulled us in different directions. He was the one person who'd truly known me, before I'd learned to hide myself away.

The last time I'd seen him was six years ago, but his number was still there. I'd never been able to delete it, even though I'd told myself I had.

My finger hovered over his name as another wave of dizziness hit me. The whiskey, the concussion, or both - I wasn't sure anymore. But I kept staring at his name on the screen, remembering how safe I'd felt in his arms, how he'd never tried to change me or control me.

Lorenzo Constantine. The one person who might actually help me without making it worse.

Who was I kidding? I stared at Lorenzo's name until the screen blurred. He probably had a perfect life now - a loving girlfriend, maybe even a family. The thought of him happy with someone else twisted in my chest like a knife.

My thumb traced over his number. Calling him after all these years would only strip away what little self-respect I had left. And worse - if Dominic found out I'd reached out to anyone, especially Lorenzo... I shuddered, remembering his threats. I couldn't risk dragging Lorenzo into this darkness.

But something deep inside kept pulling me back to his name. Maybe just a quick hello. Maybe just to hear a friendly voice, to remember what it felt like when someone actually cared.

The whiskey must have given me courage, because before I could stop myself, my thumb pressed "call." I held my breath, fully expecting the automated "this number is no longer in service" message.

One ring.

"He won't answer," I whispered to myself, hand shaking as I pressed the phone to my ear.

Two rings.

My heart pounded against my ribs. This was stupid, so stupid.

Three rings.

I should hang up. Right now. Before-

"Hello?"