MY BABY DADDY IS A MAFIA
dennovan.99 · Ongoing · 53.8k Words
Introduction
Two years ago, I made the most reckless decision of my life. I married a stranger — a dangerously sharp Russian with eyes like winter storms and a voice that curled around your spine.
It was supposed to be fake.
A quick, quiet wedding on a borrowed yacht.
A loophole to stop my billionaire father from selling me off to some corporate puppet in a boardroom marriage.
But the stranger-the man I begged for help—wasn’t just some wealthy businessman in an expensive suit. He was Mikhail Volkov. A Bratva king. Cold. Ruthless. Calculating.
I left him divorce papers and two million dollars on his bed the next morning… and vanished.
But the past doesn’t stay buried. And men like him don’t forget unfinished business.
Two years later, under a new name and a quiet life halfway across the world, I thought I was safe. Until my new company gets bought out. By him.
Mikhail Volkov.
He came for me.
And this time, running isn’t an option.
“Why the hell are you calling me your wife?” I snap, shoving the contract across his desk. “I paid you off. I left divorce papers. Signed.”
He steps closer, all tailored dominance and lethal calm, his voice low enough to scrape against my bones.
"You don’t end things with me unless I say so, moya zhena. And I don’t marry… to divorce."
I’m not free. I’m his unfinished business. And now? I belong to him… whether I want to or not.
Chapter 1
Chicago, Illinois
“You can't do this. Fuck it!” Amy screamed, her voice rising as she stood outside the towering hotel that loomed like a judgmental god before her. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as if pain could stop her from exploding.
On the other end of the phone, the man spoke without shame. “I'm sorry, Miss. It was an emergency I just couldn't avoid. My girlfriend would leave me if I don't show up. Today is our 20th day together.”
Amy blinked, stunned.
“Twenty… what?”
“Twenty days. It's… kind of a big deal. She’s really sensitive about these things.”
The urge to curse out so loud rippled through her. The phone trembled in her grip. “You’re cancelling on me because of your twenty-day anniversary?” she hissed. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“I’ll refund your payment. I just—”
“You’ll refund? Oh, you will,” she snapped, rage flooding her throat like acid. “Or I’ll make sure your pathetic little—”
Her phone vibrated, and a bank notification popped up. Full refund.
“I wasn’t going to hold onto your payments, Miss,” he added dryly.
Amy stared at her screen. The refund sat mockingly in her account like a slap across her face.
“You’re really going to stand me up?” Amy whispered harshly into the dead phone. “You could’ve told me earlier. I would’ve made other arrangements. How can you be like this, hello? Hello?! You dare hang up on me, you simp! Fucking. Argh!”
A strangled scream pushed out of her as she raised her arm, ready to throw the phone. But the curious glances from passersby stopped her cold. She halted, breathing hard.
Her furious scream already drew glances from people walking into the hotel. A couple nearby paused mid-step, whispering as they recognized her.
Army Williams. First daughter of Silver and Katrine Williams. Heiress to the Williams fortune. One of Chicago’s most visible, most suffocated socialites.
And now she was throwing a tantrum outside a hotel like a drunk teenager.
Her breath hitched, throat burning furiously. She wanted to throw the phone against the building, to scream until her voice broke, until someone saw her for more than a well-dressed instrument in her father’s game.
This was Ellie’s fault. Ellie and her brilliant “hire-a-boyfriend” plan. Ellie, who wasn’t even here to absorb the disaster.
Amy sank onto the stone edge of a planter, gripping the phone tightly. The weight of her life pressed down on her chest like a cinder block.
Her father was inside that hotel right now, finalizing an arranged marriage with the Lancaster family. As if she were a briefcase or a stock option. Another business deal to enhance his empire.
He'd always made the decisions: her school, her major, her diet, her social media presence. Even the boy she kissed at seventeen had been “approved.”
Tonight was supposed to be her rebellion. Her escape. Her chance to humiliate him in front of his rich friends and make her own damn choices.
Now it was crumbling.
Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with her phone, calling the one person who mastermind the whole plan.
“Ellie,” she said, her voice barely holding together.
“What happened? Aren't you supposed to be in the hotel now?” her friend asked, instantly concerned. She knew a call like this meant plans had failed. She gasped, “You didn't change your mind at the last minute, right Amy?”
Amy swallowed. It wasn't Ellie's fault the idiot didn't show. So she swallowed the hurting word revolting around her tongue.
“No. He fucking bailed because his girlfriend was counting days like a lunatic. Twenty. Days.”
“Oh, hell no.”
“I don’t know what to do. Everyone’s inside. My parents. The stupid Lancasters. His son.” Her voice cracked. “Ellie, I can't do this on my own and you know it. I need someone. I need a guy. Anyone to help.”
Her father would not like the fact that she was at the building. Thanks to her brother, she gets to know about her marriage plans.
There was a rustle on the other end, then Ellie voiced again. “Okay, listen to me. I have another contact. Someone I kept as backup. Jaye vouched for him. He’s expensive and picky as hell but… he's good. Just call him. Beg if you have to.”
Amy wiped her temple and held out her hand as the number came in.
“Okay… I'll call you soon.” She ended the call with Ellie and pressed on the new contact.
“God, please let him answer…”
She dialed.
One ring. Two. Four.
She was about to hang up when a cold, quiet voice answered.
“Yes?”
It sliced straight through her.
“…Hello,” she said, blinking. “Ellie gave me your number. She said you’d… expect my call.”
“Who?” he asked, his voice laced with that chilling authority that always made her skin prickle. Or maybe it was just the effect of speaking to a man, something she rarely did, thanks to her father.
She blinked, stunned by his arrogance, it completely threw her off. Now he didn’t know who Ellie was? Or maybe Ellie had a nickname she wasn’t aware of.
Before she could say anything, he let out, flatly, “Did you call to just go mute?”
Amy’s throat closed, getting hold of herself instantly. No one had ever talked to her in such manners, but then... “Wait—no. Please.” Her pride crumbled in the face of desperation. “Please, I need you to meet me. I’ll double your fee. Triple. Just meet me at the location I’m sending.”
“Who are you?” He asked after a pulse.
Amy lifted her gaze. “You don’t know? Oh… maybe Ellie didn’t fill you in. She said you offer fake boyfriend services. I know it sounds weird, but I need one, urgently. Like, right now.” She rushed the words, too desperate to waste time beating around the bush.
The man let out a deep, throaty laugh, dark, unsettling, the kind that sent a chill crawling up her spine. It was the kind of laugh that should’ve made her hang up.
But she stayed on the line.
Maybe it was a good thing he sounded dangerous.
“Listen, little woman…” Little woman? He doesn’t even know what she looks like! “...You’ve got the wrong num—”
This was already taking longer than she’d planned. She cut in sharply, refusing to let him finish.
“I need help,” she whispered, voice shaking. “You’re my only chance. Ellie said you were the only one who could help me.”
She didn’t notice the silence wasn’t just confusion, but also curiosity. An amusing one.
“What’s your name?” the voice asked, still cold but now entertained.
She hesitated. Shouldn’t he know?
Then she remembered what Ellie had said. He’s busy. “You’ll have to convince him.” So maybe she didn't tell him her name.
“…Amy. Amy Williams.”
There was a strange silence. Then a low, amused hum.
“Fine.”
Then he ended the call.
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