The Mafia Boss's Surrogate Wife

Three years of marriage. Six miscarriages. I nearly died on the operating table—all for Nikolai Konstantin.

Each time I woke up, this cold-blooded mafia boss would hold my hand and say, "I'm sorry you went through this. Let's try again, okay?"

I thought he loved me.

Until my seventh pregnancy, when I saw that video—

My sister Scarlett was curled up in his arms, crying. "Nik, Aria's miscarried six times already. What if something happens to her... It's all my fault. My heart condition—I can't carry a baby..."

Nikolai kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, baby. Her body can take a few more tries. I promised you a child. I'm going to keep that promise."

That moment, I finally understood—

The child in my womb had NEVER been mine.

It was THEIRS.

Aria's POV

My hand trembled as I hit pause. Bile rose in my throat.

The screen froze, but those words kept slicing through my head.

"Her body can take a few more tries."

"I promised you a child. I'm going to keep that promise."

My palm moved to my slightly swollen belly. Tears splashed onto the screen, blurring Scarlett's pitiful face.

Five months along. To keep this baby, I'd been taking three progesterone shots daily. My stomach was a pincushion of needle marks. I'd spent the first trimester flat on my back, unable to move. Every flutter, every tiny kick—I'd cried with joy.

I thought this was MY baby. Mine and Nikolai's.

But he wasn't mine.

He NEVER was.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Nikolai's voice came from behind me.

I nearly dropped my phone, quickly killing the screen and hiding it. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, chin resting on my shoulder. "Something wrong with the baby?"

I caught that scent. Jo Malone Bluebell—Scarlett's perfume.

"Nothing." I forced my voice steady. "Just hormones."

Nikolai frowned at my wet eyes, thumb brushing my cheek. "Don't cry. Bad for you."

He helped me sit on the bed, kneeling halfway before me, palm pressed to my belly. "Hey, little one. Quit kicking your mama around. Once you're born, you'll learn what it means to be a Konstantin."

The baby kicked his hand.

The corner of Nikolai's mouth twitched—a smile I hadn't seen in forever. This ruthless mafia boss only ever softened around this child.

Because this was HIS child. His and Scarlett's.

I stared at him, my mind flashing to sixteen—

School thugs had cornered me in an alley. Nikolai appeared, single-handedly dropping five guys. He tossed me his blood-stained jacket, voice cold. "Put it on. Next time, drop my name. See what happens."

From that day on, this fierce, brutal mafia heir pursued me.

Not normally. He bought the building across from mine, "watching" me from his window every day. Had people tail me—called it "protection." Even blocked me at school, announcing to everyone, "Aria's MINE. Touch her, you're dealing with the Konstantins."

I called him a "mafia dog." He narrowed his eyes, voice low and dangerous. "Better learn to train dogs then, Aria. 'Cause I'm not letting go."

Eventually, I couldn't resist his raw devotion. I married him.

After the wedding, I couldn't get pregnant. Family pressure mounted. Nikolai's mother kept implying I wasn't "good breeding stock."

The night I suggested IVF, Nikolai pulled me close, letting out a rare sigh. "You don't have to. Kids or no kids—doesn't matter. I want YOU."

I was so moved I cried myself to sleep.

I thought he loved me.

Looking back now—laughable. All that devotion was for THIS. To trick me into willingly carrying Scarlett's child.

"What're you thinking?" Nikolai looked up. "You look awful."

I took a deep breath. "What if... I lose this one too?"

His hand froze.

Dead silence.

"Why would you say that?" His voice returned to its usual edge. "Dr. Morrison said you're fine."

"Just hypothetically." I met his eyes. "I've lost SIX already."

Nikolai went quiet. His jaw tensed. Finally, he just stood, loosening his tie. "Stop thinking like that. Get some rest."

He disappeared into the bathroom. Water ran.

I moved slowly to the couch, picking up his carelessly tossed suit jacket like always.

A parking ticket fell out.

Manhattan Hilton Hotel 

August 15, 2024 

3:47 PM - 2:33 AM

I stared at that date. Everything went blank.

August 15th.

I'd never forget that day.

My sixth miscarriage. I'd hemorrhaged on the operating table. Nurses kept calling Nikolai. No answer. The doctor frantically needed his signature or they'd lose me. I was delirious with pain, barely hearing "still no answer."

Dawn came. I woke to find Nikolai at my bedside, eyes bloodshot. He gripped my hand, voice raw. "I'm sorry. That arms shipment at East Dock—cops were all over it. I had to handle it myself."

I'd felt sorry for him then, too weak to do anything but whisper "I understand."

But he'd NEVER been at the docks.

He'd been at the Hilton. With Scarlett. Afternoon to dawn. ELEVEN HOURS.

I was dying on an operating table while he held HER in a hotel room. Making love, whispering promises, planning their future—planning how to keep me as their breeding tool.

I laughed. Laughed until tears came.

What even was I? Lover? Wife?

No. Just a WOMB. A fooled, used surrogate.

I wiped my face and pulled up that number.

Two rings.

"Does your promise still stand?" My voice shook. "I want out."

Silence. Then a deep, magnetic voice.

"Was starting to think you'd never call."

Something dark and pleased edged his tone.

"The sooner the better."

"Three days." He paused, voice dropping lower. "Aria, I've been waiting a long time for this."