Sold To The Mafia Don-Chapter 196 - 6 ~ Mira

Sleep seemed far away.

I kept tossing and turning, not wanting to disturb Jace, but I felt so much movement, I wondered what was going on with my baby.

My gynecologist had mentioned sleeplessness in the third trimester but this seemed quite early.

Looking over at the jar of water placed by the bed stand, I saw that it was empty.

I held in a groan, trying my best to not wake Jace up. He needed the rest after a long trip so I decided against disturbing him.

Shuffling out of bed, I got on my feet and stealthily headed downstairs with my jar in one hand and my glass cup in the other.

I couldn’t believe I was already waddling around like a penguin. I thought it would be much later. Maybe I needed to start working out more.

I huffed as I took the stairs one at a time until I got down and found my way to the kitchen.

When I entered the kitchen, I thought about leaving the lights off so I wouldn’t alert the security, but it felt way too dark so I turned on the dim lighting. It was bright enough to show me around.

Just as I placed my glass under the water dispenser and threw my head back to take a gulp, I saw a strange movement from the corner of my eye.

I paused and looked around, wondering if it was the guard on duty inside the house who came to check. I shrugged it off because it was a possibility but there was still a sense of foreboding sitting in the pit of my stomach.

I brought the glass of water to my mouth again and took a sip with my eyes half closed.

That was when I saw it again, someone moved quickly.

My heart soon started to race and I tried to take deep breaths.

I heard a door open just then and heavy footsteps approached. I didn’t know what to do.

I tried to think fast but maybe too much of an easy life or pregnancy brain had caught up with me and my survival instincts were zero.

The kitchen door was opened wider and that was when I was able to scream.

"Hey, hey, it’s me."

I let out a sigh of relief. It was just my husband.

He immediately came to my side and held me.

"Are you okay?"

I placed my palm on my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. I managed a nod.

"I was worried when I didn’t see you in bed. I didn’t mean to scare you."

"It’s okay." I told him, wondering if I was supposed to tell him about what I saw or felt or if it was just my imagination playing games with me. I didn’t want to worry him. And knowing Jace, he would go into full protection mode, suffocating me even more than he already was. I didn’t want that.

Maybe I was just overthinking it. There was no way someone was there.

"Let’s go back to bed," I said.

"Okay baby,"

He pressed a kiss to my temple, helped me fill my jar with water and guided me up the stairs as we went back to our bedroom.

My body sank into the mattress with a heavy sigh, but my mind was still racing. Jace settled behind me, pulling me close not tight, just enough so his warmth pressed along my back. His hand naturally found its place over my belly. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing against me, slow and grounding.

He was asleep within minutes.

I wasn’t.

I stared at the ceiling, wondering why my heart still beat fast when the house was quiet, when the lights were off, when the night outside felt undisturbed.

Maybe it was just pregnancy hormones.

Maybe I was just anxious. The third trimester was creeping closer and everyone had warned me that emotions came in waves now.

Still... that flicker in the kitchen didn’t feel like imagination.

But I wasn’t going to drag us back into paranoia. We had fought too hard for this peace. For this home. For this chance to breathe without always watching the door.

So I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, letting Jace’s warmth press the fear into silence.

Eventually, sleep pulled me under.

The next morning was slow and softer than most. The sun filtered through the curtains in long golden strips. I woke up alone, but I could hear movement downstairs. The faint clatter of pans. A kettle. And my husband humming in a low tone that couldn’t decide whether it was a melody or just something to keep his mind busy.

I smiled. Why wouldn’t he just let the chef do his job? He started trying to learn how to make different recipes the moment we went for our first doctor’s checkup. His cooking had improved over time and I looked forward to it. Who would have thought that the feared mafia Don, Jace Romano would be looking up recipes and cooking for his pregnant wife? No one. That made it even more fun.

I dragged myself upright, rubbed my face and walked downstairs, hands on my lower back because apparently my spine had decided to resign from duty. I groaned. Nothing prepared me for all the bodily functions I would lose during pregnancy.

Jace was barefoot, shirt slightly wrinkled, hair mess and I loved him like this.

"Good morning my love," I said, voice still soft from sleep.

He turned around immediately. "Mia Cara, you should have called me. I would have carried you down."

"I’m pregnant, not made of delicate glasswork." I rolled my eyes and snorted.

He gave me a look that said he disagreed entirely but chose peace today.

He set a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. "Eat first. Doctor’s orders."

I decided not to argue. Mostly because my daughter had recently developed a habit of demanding food every three hours.

As I ate, I pulled out my phone and saw a missed call from Donna.

"She must have called when I was in the bathroom," I said quietly.

Jace looked up. "Call her. She’ll be dramatic if you don’t."

I laughed and dialed.

She picked up after two rings.

"Mira! My sunshine!" Donna exclaimed, sounding like she had just stepped on camera. "Are you glowing today? I had a dream you were glowing. Very motherly and blessed."

I grinned widely. "Good morning to you too, Donna."

"Oh please, don’t act modest. Pregnancy suits you. You’re radiant. You should see what I looked like when I was pregnant with Jace. I was round. Like a ripe tomato. Your father-in-law still chased me around though so I suppose it wasn’t too bad."

Jace groaned under his breath. I bit back a laugh.

Donna continued without taking a breath. "Tell me... how is the baby? Is she active today? Does she kick when music plays? Has she started reacting to Jace’s voice?"

"Yes, she does," I answered, smiling. "She kicks a lot now."

"A good sign! She will be strong. She’ll run your husband’s house before she can even talk. I can feel it."

"God help him then," I said, glancing at Jace.

He smirked. "I’m prepared."

Donna gasped dramatically. "Oh! Speaking of... I found the cutest baby clothes online. Lace. Hand-sewn. Italian silk. I will ship everything tomorrow. Don’t argue."

I blinked. "That sounds expensive—"

She immediately cut me off. "My granddaughter deserves luxury. The world must know she is cherished."

I softened. "Thank you, Donna. Really."

"Oh, please. This child is a gift. Our family needs her more than we even understand yet."

Something about the way she said it made something in my chest shift. It was warm and aching.

We talked a bit longer before she began scolding me about hydration, posture, and emotional serenity.

"Be gentle with yourself, Mira. You survived fire. Now you’re learning how to live in light. It is an adjustment. Trust the process."

"I’m trying," I said quietly.

"I know."

And then she hung up.

I stared at the screen for a moment.

Jace brushed his thumb along my wrist. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Just thinking."

He didn’t push. He just understood. My phone buzzed again.

Roberto.

I answered quickly. "Hello?"

"How’s my favorite sister in the world?" he greeted, sounding tired but warm.

"I’m your only sister. Have you eaten today?" I fired back immediately.

"I’m not a baby any—"

"And you forget to eat when you’re working." I retorted.

He laughed softly. "You’re sounding like a mother already."

I looked at my belly. "I guess I am."

"How is she?" he asked.

"She’s... restless. And apparently an Olympic athlete already."

"That’s our blood." His voice softened. "I’m happy for you, Mira. Really. You deserve this."

"I know." I pressed my hand over my heart. "I just—"

"You’re scared." It wasn’t a question but a statement.

I swallowed. "A little."

"It’s okay to be. You’ve earned the right to feel everything. Just remember, you’re not alone anymore."

My eyes felt warm.

He always knew how to cut straight to the truth.

We talked a bit more about the bakery expansion, about his work, about names we were still undecided on before hanging up.

When I finally put the phone down, the house felt quiet again.

Not the peaceful kind.

The other kind.

The kind that waits.

I looked around the living room, the windows, the hallway, the shadows that sat too still in the corners.

Nothing was out of place.

Everything was warm, safe, familiar.

And yet... my chest tightened.

Like something was just beyond sight and it was waiting for the right time to strike.

I placed my hands over my bump.

"I’m keeping you safe," I whispered to my daughter.

I didn’t know if I was reassuring her...

Or myself.