The Mob Princess’s Enemy (Mafia Ties #2) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Mafia Ties Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
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“Really?” she breathed.

I nodded and took her hand, silently leading her downstairs and out through a set of French doors in the back den. They opened up to a modest yard, but her eyes were immediately dawn to the last of my surprises.

In one corner of the lot was a play set, swings, and a play house. Every child’s dream backyard.

Her hands rested over her stomach as she gazed around. I walked up behind her and lay my hands on top of hers. “You’re going to have so much fun here, little peanut,” she whispered, looking down at where our baby grew in her belly. “You’ll be so happy, so loved.”

I kissed the top of Carly’s head, then rested my chin there. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, kitten.”

She leaned back into me, sighing contentedly, then giggled. “And you’re going to be a complete pushover. I can just see our little girls wrapping you around their fingers.”

I shuddered. “Girls? I don’t think I could handle the stress of more than one. Fuck, Carly. Look at you. You’re so damn beautiful. I’ll have to build them a fucking tower to keep all the boys away from my precious baby girls.”

Carly laughed and just like always, the sound washed over me, leaving only sweetness and pleasure in its wake. I had never longed for this life. A wife, baby, home; these were things that seemed almost abstract, something I might have in the future, but had none of my focus at the moment.

But, standing there, holding my wife and our baby, on the deck of our picturesque home, I realized there was nothing I would ever want more.

Epilogue

CARLY

I’d experienced more than my fair share of pain in my life, but none of it fully prepared me for childbirth. My original plan had been to go the natural route. I figured I could do it without drugs, but I was wrong. Oh boy, was I fucking wrong. About an hour into my labor, Brandon was ordering the doctor around and telling her to do something to ease my pain. When they offered me an epidural, I accepted. It helped, but by the end of the next ten hours, I was sure I’d never want to have another baby. Then, the moment I held our beautiful baby girl in my arms, it was as though the hours of pain had never happened. “I can’t wait to do this again,” I sighed.

Brandon looked horrified at the idea. “Fuck no! I can’t watch you go through this again, kitten. I’m going to have to go in and get snipped or something.”

He looked just as horrified by the idea of letting a doctor near the family jewels, and I giggled while I traced the baby’s cheeks with a fingertip. Lowering my head, I nuzzled her dark curls, the shade an exact match to her daddy’s hair, and breathed her scent into my lungs. I had a secret weapon to help persuade Brandon to my way of thinking, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

“I think someone wants her daddy to hold her.”

Strong hands reached for the baby and gently lifted her out of my arms. I’d been in awe of how small she was, and she looked even tinier held against Brandon’s chest. The sight of my tough and sexy husband holding our beautiful baby girl had tears filling my eyes. I’d never been happier than I was in that moment, and then Brandon added to my joy.

“Fine, but we’re going to wait a little bit before I knock you up again,” he agreed. “And the next one had better be a boy.”

“You’re only saying that because you want to pick the name the next time around.” We’d agreed early on in this pregnancy that I’d get to name any girls we had and Brandon would name the boys.

“It’s more like I know I’m going to need some help watching over you two.”

Our family grew, but Brandon didn’t get the help he was hoping for. We found ourselves in the delivery room again eleven and a half months later, and then again twelve months after that. Irish triplets, so to speak, since they were born so closely together. Three little girls I got to name—Regan, Claire, and Molly.

Showering at four o’clock in the afternoon might seem strange to some, but as the mother of three children under the age of four, I’d quickly learned to grab one during those rare times when they were all down for a nap together. Living so close to Anna, we helped each other out often, but she had her hands full with her own trio of children—Sophia, Niccolo Jr., and Natalia. With Sophia on her first week of summer break from school, Nic and Anna took the family on a vacation to the Bahamas. The girls missed their friends, and they’d been acting out a bit because of it. The minutes I’d managed to steal in the shower were glorious, and I felt like a new woman when I stepped out wrapped in a towel.


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