Triplets for the Mafia Prince

I never expected to see him again after that snowy night in Michigan.
The dangerous lawyer who tied me up.
Then touched me in ways that made me forget he was my future fiancé's son.
Now I'm carrying his triplets.

Standing in the Nardone family's glittering Christmas ballroom, my hand shields my still-flat stomach.
Niccolo strides toward me with murder in his eyes.
He knows.

The pregnancy test wasn't supposed to show three little heartbeats.
Because Nic isn't just the brooding son anymore – he's the new Don of New York.
And he's just learned his father's young bride is carrying his heirs.

His breath burns hot against my neck as he pushes me against the wall.
"You're mine now, Bella. No one else will ever touch you."
My body betrays me, remembering his touch from that night.

As bullets tear through the holiday lights, I learn the truth:
There's one rule in the mafia that even a Don can't break:
Never steal your father's bride.