The Mafia's Septuplets: A Mafia Romance

“Hello grumpy. Goodbye sunshine.” I was just trying to hem a suit not end up pregnant with a mafia boss’s septuplets. But here we are. One minute I’m fending off a handsy client the next a dangerously hot Russian in a ten-thousand-dollar jacket is growling at him to back off… and calling me his . His name? Iskander Taranov. Six-foot-something of glacial power lethal calm and absolutely incredible abs. He’s the kind of man who could ruin your life and make you say thank you . And he did ruin mine… kind of. Because when a rival mafia group launched a full-blown attack on my shop I got caught in the crossfire. I woke up in Iskander’s mansion with a bodyguard a burner phone and a man who says I’m under his protection now. Obviously we kept it professional… Until we didn’t. One incredible night (or two) one lapse in judgment (or a few) and now… I’m pregnant.<