Page 81 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

But slowly, second by second, that trickled through my brain.

His ex-wife hadn’t been able to get pregnant.

Because Carlos had made sure she couldn’t.

Which meant I couldn’t either.

Virginia squeezed my fingers. “I just…I just thought you should know, because they didn’t tell Audrina, and it got her killed. I don’t think it’s fair that they clearly didn’t tell you either. You’re a young woman. You might want children. That choice should be yours, and marrying Carlos will mean you never have children of your own.”

Oh, I was screwed.

So royally and utterly screwed.

26

LYNX

Dear Diary,

I brought vitamins, baby books, and accidentally pitched incest-adjacent Mafia survival sex.

Iwent to my next shift at the Guerras’ with a black duffel bag on my back.

One of the goon brothers, stationed at his usual position at the front door of the house, jerked his head at it. “What’s in the bag?”

I already had an answer prepared for that. “My lunch and workout gear. I’m on a shred. You know how it is. Gotta count every calorie, and I’m trying to stick to my macros for each meal. Easier if I meal prep and bring my own food. Mr. Guerra said I could use the gym here on my breaks, so just going to put the food in the refrigerator.”

He’d already lost interest. I couldn’t blame him. I found talking about macros and dieting dull too.

I walked inside, did a quick check over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching, and then bypassed the kitchen entirely, taking the stairs to Nyah’s rooms instead.

Goon Bro Two was on the door, but thankfully he was the less sharp one of the pair. He was obviously sick of counting grapes on the paintings and seemed nothing but relieved to see me coming. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning on. “I don’t know how you stand this posting. It’s the dullest one in the house.”

I gave him a fake smile. “That’s why they give it to the new guy, right?”

“She’s all yours. She’s been crying for hours. My ears are fucking ringing from listening to it. I don’t even know how someone can cry that much. She must be dehydrated.”

I stopped. “She’s been crying? Why?”

He shrugged. “No fucking idea.”

“Did you ask her?”

He stared at me like I was an idiot. “Why on earth would I do that? I’m here to make sure she doesn’t run. Not to talk about her feelings.”

I shook my head, muttering beneath my breath, “And here I was, thinking we were here to make sure she was safe. How stupid of me.”

If he heard me, he didn’t care. He was already halfway down the hallway.

I paused outside Nyah’s door, and it only took a few seconds before the hiccupping sobs came from inside.

I knocked. “Nyah? Can I come in?”

She stopped crying, and there was a moment of rustling around, and then she called, “Yes.”

I opened the door and peeked in around it. I was on the evening shift, but the sun hadn’t yet set. It had still been fairly high, the light so bold and bright I’d had to wear sunglasses on the ride over here.

But Nyah had the blinds down, her room dark. Soggy tissues filled the bin next to her bed that I was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten out of that morning, if the messed-up state of her hair and pajamas were anything to go by. Even in the dim light, I could tell her eyes were red-rimmed from hours of crying.