I Went to End My Pregnancy—Then a Mafia Boss Stormed the Clinic and Revealed He Already Knew I Was Carrying His Triplets
"Part 2.
Dominic’s jaw tightened as he stopped only a few feet from me.
“Because I had you followed,” he said.
The words landed colder than the marble beneath my shoes.
I stepped back, one hand instinctively moving toward my stomach.
“You had no right.”
“No,” he admitted.
“But I had a reason.”
I laughed once, sharp and broken.
“A reason to terrify me, abduct me, and drag me into your mansion like property?”
His eyes flickered, but his voice stayed calm.
“There are men who would cut those children from your life before they ever took their first breath.”
The room went silent.
Behind him, rain tapped against the tall windows like nervous fingers.
“What are you talking about?”
Dominic opened a drawer and slid a photograph across the desk.
I did not want to look.
I looked anyway.
It showed me outside my apartment three nights earlier, carrying groceries, unaware of the man standing across the street with a camera.
My stomach twisted.
“There’s more,” Dominic said.
He placed another photo down.
Then another.
My building.
My clinic.
My sister’s house.
Someone had been watching me long before today.
“Who are they?” I whispered.
“People who hate my family.”
“Then this is your fault.”
“Yes,” he said.
No excuse.
No denial.
Just one brutal word.
My anger faltered for half a second, then returned stronger.
“I don’t belong in your world.”
“You entered it the night you came with me.”
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“That is why I let you leave.”
His confession caught me off guard.
Dominic looked toward the fireplace, his expression darkening.
“I thought disappearing would keep you safe.
Then I learned you were pregnant.
Then I learned there were three heartbeats.”
My throat tightened despite myself.
“How?”
He reached into his coat and removed a small velvet box.
For one impossible second, I thought it was a ring.
Instead, he opened it to reveal my missing necklace, the one I had lost after my sister’s wedding.
Hidden inside the broken clasp was a tiny tracking chip.
I went numb.
Before I could speak, gunfire cracked somewhere outside the mansion.
Dominic turned toward the door as alarms screamed through the halls.
Then my phone lit up with a message from an unknown number.
May you like
Run, Vivien.
Dominic is not their father.
