Sold To The Mafia Don-Chapter 199 - 9 ~ Mira

Sleep didn’t return easily after that night.

It continued like this for days.

Even though Jace had walked me back upstairs and tucked me close to him, even though his arm was around me and his breathing was steady against the back of my neck, my mind stayed alert—awake in that silent way where your thoughts are too loud but your body is tired.

Maybe it really had been nothing.

Maybe it was just a shadow, my imagination, pregnancy hormones doing gymnastics in my head.

But when morning came, the feeling remained.

I woke up before he did. His chest was against my back, warm and solid and familiar. His hand rested over my belly, the way it always did now—like he was afraid she might disappear if he didn’t physically hold her in place.

I stared at our intertwined fingers for a while, tracing the way his knuckles curved over mine.

He slept deeper when he was here with no tension in his shoulders, no sharp breath patterns, just quiet.

It made my heart ache.

I turned slowly to face him.

His hair was messy, his lashes too long for someone who pretended to be made of steel. I almost wanted to pluck them out and make them mine. His mouth was relaxed. No sternness. No control. Just... Jace.

The Jace who kissed my forehead every night. The Jace who whispered to my stomach like she could already hear him. I’m sure she could. The Jace who still woke sometimes with his jaw clenched and eyes dark with memories he wouldn’t share.

I reached up and brushed my fingers through his hair.

He didn’t wake, but he leaned into the touch like he’d been waiting for it.

My chest tightened.

I didn’t want to ask him what he was hiding.

I didn’t want to ruin this moment.

So I didn’t.

By the time he woke up, I had already dressed and was in the kitchen, cutting fruit for breakfast.

He appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, shirtless and sleepy-eyed, rubbing his palm across his chest.

"You left me," he said with his deep morning voice that made me crave his touch.

I smiled softly. "I got hungry."

He walked up behind me, slipping his arms around my waist. "You could’ve woken me."

"You needed the sleep." I leaned back into him. "I didn’t want to disturb you."

His chin rested lightly on my shoulder.

"You could wake me a hundred times and I’d never complain," he murmured as he kissed the back of my neck. I bit back a moan.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just placed a strawberry slice in his mouth.

His mouth grazed my fingers when he took it, and warmth shot through me so suddenly I had to steady myself on the counter.

"Where’s Tomas?" I asked.

"Outside." His tone shifted subtly, but I caught it. "He’s restructuring patrols."

I paused just a little too long.

Jace noticed.

He always noticed.

But he didn’t rush to explain, and I didn’t rush to ask.

Instead, he turned me around slowly, his hands soft on my hips.

"Come here," he said, voice quieter now.

I stepped into him automatically. His arms tightened around me, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the weight of him.

No words. No walls. Just us.

His lips brushed my forehead. "Did you sleep?"

I hesitated. "Not really."

He didn’t push for why.

He just nodded once, like he filed the information away somewhere safe.

"We’ll nap this afternoon," he said softly. "Both of us."

I laughed under my breath. "You say that every day."

"And every day, I mean it."

He held me like he had no intention of letting go, like the morning didn’t need to rush anywhere. It didn’t seem like he was going anywhere today. It was the weekend after all. But most of the time he got cooped up in his home office while I busied myself with other things.

His thumb brushed the curve of my stomach, slow, steady.

"She’s quiet today," he murmured.

"She will not be once breakfast hits," I sighed.

He smiled. "I hope she kicks harder. I missed it last night."

I didn’t tell him why I hadn’t woken him.

He didn’t ask.

I looked at him once and he looked back with the same intensity. He immediately understood.

"Here?"

"No. Anyone could walk in on us."

"Phew, I was worried. It isn’t safe for you." He said with a sigh of relief, taking my hand as he led me upstairs.

Sometimes I hated how limiting our sex life had been because Jace wanted me to be safe at all times. It took a lot of convincing from the doctor for him to touch me as soon as I announced we were expecting. And now, about seven months later, he was gentler than he had ever been since we got married.

I couldn’t wait for this baby to come out so I could return to my wild self.

He had barely shut the door behind him, when I brought his face closer and kissed him with all the pent up passion inside me.

"You’re soaking wet," he whispered against my lips as his fingers found their way to my wetness.

"See what you do to me?"

He smirked.

Let’s just say we had a really good time before breakfast.

~

Later that morning, I FaceTimed Donna.

She appeared wrapped in a silk robe, hair pinned up in a way that somehow looked casual and regal at the same time.

"My darling girl," she said, eyes brightening. "How are you and my granddaughter?"

"We’re fine," I smiled. "She kept me up last night."

"Of course she did. She’s a Romano."

She sipped her tea with dramatic flair.

We talked about small things first, nursery colors, cravings, her book club drama, before she paused and looked at me more closely.

"You seem... unsettled."

I blinked. "Do I?"

"You’re trying to look calm. That’s different." She stated plainly. Underneath that statement, there was a question.

I exhaled, pressing a hand to my belly. "I think I scared myself. I saw something. Or thought I saw something."

Donna’s expression sharpened immediately but not with panic. With understanding.

"You’re carrying life," she said softly. "Your instincts are heightened. Trust them, but don’t feed them fear. Shadows seem louder when we’re protecting something."

I nodded slowly. "I’m trying."

"That’s all you can do." She smiled gently. "And you’re not doing it alone."

My throat tightened.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Of course," she said. "Now go drink something cold. That child is dehydrating you."

I chuckled. Only Donna could command hydration like a mafia decree.

~

In the afternoon, I got a call from Roberto. We talked more often these days. My heart always skipped when his name appeared. I still wasn’t used to being able to talk to him openly again. It still felt like a gift I needed to hold carefully.

"Hey," I said as I answered.

"You sound tired," he noted immediately.

"You sound judgmental," I shot back.

He snorted. "Fair enough."

We talked for a few minutes about nothing and everything—his job in Houston, yes he moved from New York , the apartment he was redecorating, how he was planning to come visit before the baby arrives.

Then he gently asked out of nowhere:

"Are you happy, Mira?"

I didn’t need to think about it.

"Yes," I breathed. "I really am."

He exhaled, like that meant something to him too.

Maybe it did.

"I’m glad," he said. "You deserve that."

My eyes stung. "You do too, you know."

He laughed softly. "Working on it."

We stayed on that call longer than usual. And when I hung up, I felt lighter.

But it didn’t erase the quiet unease settling along my spine.

When evening came, I stood in the living room while the house grew dim around me.

The lights were soft. The curtains were drawn. Everything was still.

Too still.

My gaze drifted to the windows.

I don’t know what I expected to find out there.

A face?

A shadow?

The feeling tightened—not loud, just present.

Like someone watching a house waiting for the right moment to knock.

But the room remained empty.

Footsteps approached behind me.

Jace’s hand slipped into mine.

His fingers threaded through mine like they belonged there.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

I swallowed.

I could lie.

I could say yes.

But instead, I squeezed his hand.

"I am now."

He didn’t ask what I meant.

He didn’t have to.

His thumb brushed my palm, slow, grounding.

And I leaned into him, letting his warmth ease the ache in my chest.

But as he kissed the side of my head, I kept my gaze on the window.

The feeling didn’t disappear.

It settled.

Like a storm waiting for its moment.

And for the first time...

I understood that quiet could be a warning.

Not peace.

Not anymore.