Sold to The Mafia (2nd Version)

*13 : i love you

Victoria's POV:

After receiving the soul-crushing news, I went straight to my room and locked myself in. I took my boots off and collapsed onto the bed. Tears poured from my eyes, and I didn’t know what else to do but cry it all out.

For a woman to receive the news that she won't be able to carry her own children destroys everything she has dreamed about since childhood. The dream of nurturing my own kids had just been wrecked in a matter of moments. I felt utterly destroyed, and all it took was a stupid test and a few words.

“Victoria, can you open up, please?” Devonté's voice came through the door, calm and soothing.

I wiped my tears and reluctantly opened the door for him. I knew I was supposed to be mad at him, but I just couldn’t muster the anger—not now. I couldn’t look him in the eye. How was I going to tell him that if he wanted children with me, it would never be possible? Overwhelmed, I threw my arms around him and began to sob on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back to comfort me.

He carried me to bed in a bridal carry and laid down next to me, holding me tightly without saying a word. He was giving me the space to cry out my emotions while waiting patiently for me to speak. I really didn’t want to tell him what was wrong; I didn’t want to crush his heart too.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked softly.

“No, just stay here with me,” I replied, tightening my grip on his shirt.

“I’m sorry about this morning, okay?” he said, placing a gentle kiss on my head. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“It’s okay. Couples argue,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“Did you get your shot?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Why not?” he pressed.

“Because it won’t be necessary anymore,” I said, feeling the weight of my words. I could see the confusion in his eyes. “I’m incapable of carrying my own children.”

His expression changed instantly, concern and sadness washing over him. “I’m sorry. I really am sorry that I won’t be the wife you would want…” I started, but he stopped me mid-sentence.

“It’s not your fault that you can’t carry our children,” he said firmly. “There are hundreds of thousands of women who cannot carry their own kids. You’re not alone, my Angel.” He hugged me tightly, as if trying to shield me from the pain.

“But…” I began, but he kissed me before I could say anything further.

“But nothing!” he insisted. “I’m canceling everything for the weekend, and we’re going on a little vacation. I’ll do anything to help you feel better.” He kissed my forehead, a gesture filled with love and determination.

“That would be nice, but I don’t want you to miss out on work,” I said, wiping my tears.

This pain would go away, and I could still carry my own child—even if the chances were slim. I wanted him to have his own kids, even if it was just one. He wouldn’t show it, but I knew it affected him somehow, or maybe he never wanted kids. Probably not with me.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, sitting up against the cold leather headboard.

“Ask away, my Angel,” he encouraged, his gaze steady.

“Did you ever… think about…?” The words struggled to come out. “Did you ever dream about having kids?”

“No, I never wanted kids,” he said, looking straight into my soul.

“Why not? I always…” I began, but he interrupted me with a kiss.

“Don’t stress about it. I’ll make your dreams come true one day. I promise,” he said, the sincerity in his tone almost making me believe him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I replied, looking away.

“Do you want to go on that vacation?” he asked, his tone brightening.

“I guess we need the alone time,” I said, managing a smile at him.

“Look, my baby is smiling,” he teased, moving on top of me.

He began kissing my neck while tickling me, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I begged him to stop. I placed my hands on his face and pulled him to me, pushing him over so I was on top. I pulled his shirt over his head, and he responded by removing my clothes with urgency.

I rocked my hips against him as we kissed passionately, my body igniting with desire. He rolled me over, positioning himself on top, holding my hands on either side of me as he kissed every inch of my body. He pulled my skirt off and tossed it aside, leaving us exposed to one another.

“I love you,” the words slipped out before I could stop them, and he smirked at me, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes before disappearing between my legs.

The first kiss against my sensitive skin had me throwing my head back in pleasure. I couldn’t help moving my hips as he went down on me, my hands caressing his buzzed head. All I could think about was him savoring me like a man starved.

“Devonté!” I moaned his name, feeling him smile against me. I knew he loved it when I begged for more. My nails dug into his scalp as I approached my climax, and I felt my body stiffen.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I moaned as my thighs almost suffocated him, my orgasm crashing over me.

He returned to my lips, kissing me deeply and making me taste myself on his tongue. He reached for a condom, slipping it on before entering me with a slow, deliberate thrust. Our eyes locked as he began to move, his pace steady yet passionate.

I placed my hand on his head, drawing him closer as I planted a kiss on his lips. He quickened his rhythm, his lips trailing down to my neck. Each kiss sent shivers through me, forcing moans to escape my lips.

As he continued to thrust, he moved down to suck on my breasts, teasing me to the edge of ecstasy. He pulled out and turned me onto my stomach, positioning me just right.

When he entered me again, a loud moan escaped my lips, echoing through the room. He held my hands behind my back as his thrusts intensified, each movement pushing us closer to the edge. My moans grew louder with every thrust, and I bit down on the pillows to stifle the sounds.

“Fuck!” he groaned into my ear, his pace relentless as he pounded into me. I could feel him twitching inside as he exploded into the condom, collapsing onto my chest, both of us breathless.