My Mafia Boyfriend’s Test

On the day I got pregnant again, August decided to give up on gambling and work to provide for the family.

I was so touched that I cried. With trembling hands, I handed him the money I had saved up after working odd jobs for a year.

Two of the bank notes fell on the floor, and I picked them up before running after him.

When I reached the end of the alley, I saw the mafia members who always came to our doorstep to demand repayment of our debt. They treated August respectfully. Apparently, his poverty was just a facade.

“Mr. August, do we still need to surround your house and demand payment tomorrow?”

August sat in a Lincoln limousine and said nonchalantly, “No need.”

He stared at the ring on his finger and sighed.

“It’s been years. It’s enough to prove that her love for me is real. She once worked so hard to pay off my debt that she suffered a miscarriage.

“I already betrayed her once. It’s time to tell her about my true identity so that she doesn’t have to work so hard anymore.”

But Ivy, his childhood friend, pouted. “You can’t! It’s not time yet to reveal the truth! What if she’s like your previous girlfriends and only cares about your money and your identity as a mafia boss?

“You should wait a little longer and see whether she wants to have this baby.”

August gave a wistful nod. “Alright. I’ll do as you say. In any case, she has been with me for so long. I don’t think she can leave me now.”

I clenched the money in my hands and turned around. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

I no longer wanted to live this lie dressed as love.

That night, August returned home earlier than usual.

He sat across from me and asked casually as he ate, “How was work today?”

“It was alright.” I lowered my head, but my voice was a little choked up.

He said nothing and did not even notice that I was feeling down today.

I looked at him in silence for a few seconds before I decided to test the waters. “Honey, the heater broke down. Do you still have a bit of the money I gave you? Let’s get someone to fix it.”

A painfully forced look of distress appeared on his face. He dug around in his pocket and said, “I’m sorry, dear. I used that money to pay off my debt. I don’t have anything left.”

Liar!

I shut my eyes, like they were too heavy to keep open. All I could picture was him slipping a generous tip to some waiter in a restaurant.

I pursed my lips, held back my emotions, and said, “That’s okay. I’ll think of something.”

He caressed my face and said gently, “By the way, Ivy has been feeling sick lately. The doctor asked her to eat more nutritious food.”

Then, he took out a descaled, deboned