Pregnant with a Mafia's child

Grace's POV

Sitting down at the pharmacy, I waited calmly for the result of the test I did a while ago. I have been so sick since the incident, it's been three weeks, but I still couldn't get the night off my head. It was the most horrible night of my life. It haunted me day and night.

My Caroline, that beast, that bastard still took her away from me.

On getting home that morning, I saw the crowd in front of my apartment. When I got there, I saw my sweet little girl on the ground cold with a bullet in-between her eyes. Her eyes wide open in fear.

“Caroline!” I screamed, throwing the shoes in my hands away to run to her, ignoring the pain in-between my legs. I grabbed her and pulled her into me as I cried. There was blood everywhere, staining the white sleeveless round neck top I had taken from the man.

“Help! Somebody help me!” I screamed, my voice cracked from the screaming I had done from last night's torture or pleasure, I don't know.

No matter how I screamed, everyone remained where they stood, only shaking their head because they knew it was over. There was nothing they could do to help me or Caroline.

“God!” I cried, I wept, I rolled on the ground, and hit Caroline severally to wake up, but it was all useless.

Even when the people left one by one, I remained with Caroline on the ground, in the sand.

That was when I saw a paper pinned to her dress, it read,

"Many thanks for your assistance. I hope to do business with you again”

And for the first time in my life, I cursed out aloud,

“Fuck you!”

I snapped back to the present when I heard murmuring around me. I was now very observant and conscious of my environment. Although I had locked myself at home since that day, I dare not sleep with both eyes closed.

Looking at the TV, everyone's eyes were at, I gasped with wide eyes when I saw who it was that appeared on TV.

“Davis” I muttered when I saw him speak to the camera, his eyes sharp and dangerous, and thought we couldn't hear what he was saying because the newscaster was speaking, he spat out words in anger.

Soon another man was shown on TV. I held my breath, it was the man who had driven me to the club that day from the saloon.

My blood ran cold and my heart beat so hard in my chest. My breath began turning shallow as I listened to the words the newscaster was saying to the camera.

“…. Mr. Davis Stone is suspected of murdering Mr. Greg George. He claimed he had unfinished business with the man because of the…” The two men's pictures were displayed again on camera.

“…Don Davis Stone, as we all know him to be, openly declared that anyone who had played tricks with him on May 19th should brace themselves because he was coming for them all, including a certain girl. He swore that no one would be spared…”

My world was beginning to shrink and my heart was thudding on my chest. May 19th was the day everything happened, I am that certain girl.

I had thought Mr. Davis was the one who had played that nonsense trick on me just because he wanted to sleep with me. Now, I could see that that wasn't the case. He was as much of a victim as I was and now, he thinks I was also involved in their game.

A mafia! God! What have I gotten myself into?

I stood up, no longer concerned about the result, I needed to leave here immediately. The reason I haven't been found yet was because I had been indoors. A bullet could fly from anywhere this minute. I need to leave, not just this pharmacy but New York entirely, I have to go far away.

Just as I was using the big hoodie I had worn to cover my head properly, I felt someone grab my hand from behind and my eyes widened. My heartbeat increased as I turned, only to see that it was the doctor. Even when he smiled at me, it didn't ease me one bit. I just needed to leave here.

I tried to calm my racing heart, and I wiped the beads of sweat on my forehead,

“Doctor” I breathed out and he said,

“Congratulations, you're three weeks pregnant”

“What?” I choked and he repeated the words like it was a beautiful thing.

“Congratulations young lady, you're three weeks pregnant” and that did it because the next thing I knew was embracing Mr. Black.

****

When I woke up, I was in a tiny bed with an IV in my hand. I looked and recalled what happened. My eyes swelled with tears as I covered my mouth with my hand.

“God! How did it get to this?”

I had totally forgotten to take some pills after that night. All that was in my head was Caroline. I had even fallen sick because of it.

“You really need to look after yourself” I snapped my eyes to look at the doctor who had just stepped into the small room. He continued,

“This isn't just about you anymore. There's a baby inside who depends on your survival,” he sounded angry.

I sighed before thanking him. As he was leaving, I was pulling the IV out of my hand. I have to leave, else there won't be a baby or me.

“What are you doing?” He asked in surprise and I said with a small smile,

“Thank you, doctor, I'll take it from here” With that said, I walked out of the room even when he kept complaining about me not taking good care of my health. This is not the time.

With my hoodie over my head, I walked out of the pharmacy looking back and forth, it was evening already.

I just can't believe the man I'd slept with was a mafia lord. Although I could tell he was dangerous from his aura, but not a mafia lord. How the hell did I get pregnant at age twenty-one with a mafia's baby?

At twenty-one?!?

Getting home, I placed my traveling box on the bed and began to grab some of my clothes, throwing them into the box in a hurry. I grabbed my passport as well.

Thinking about it, I have two dangerous people on my neck. One was Caroline's murder and the other one, Mr. Davis or should I say Don Davis Stone. I don't know who would get me first, but it's better to try to escape.

I zipped the back and pulled it from the bed when I heard a knock on my door and I froze with wide eyes

“Wh…who?” My lips shake in fear as I whisper.

I didn't know who had gotten to me first, but I think it was Davis. My heart was racing faster, I didn't bother to ask who it was as I passed through the back door. Who was knocking, I would never know, and I hope not to know.