Free Brando by Marita A. Hansen

stepped aside, opening the door wider for her. She entered his room, finding everything spotless, the doctor obviously a neat freak—like Brando. She willed the bastard out of her mind again, the man a menace.
    “Take a seat please,” Cesare said, indicating to a chair next to his desk. She sat down as he lowered himself into his own chair. “Tell me what you’ve been feeling?”
    “Tired, sometimes nauseous.”
    “When are you nauseous?”
    “The last few mornings, though I’ve felt better after lunch.”
    His eyebrows rose. “When was your last menstruation?”
    “I rarely get it since I exercise too much.”
    “Have you had unprotected intercourse in the past two months?”
    She didn’t answer, the time with Brando having been just over six weeks ago.
    The doctor gave her a knowing look. “I have some pregnancy tests—”
    “But I can’t be pregnant,” she cut him off. “I’m infertile. I’ve had unprotected sex before and nothing has happened.”
    “Have you ever had yourself tested?”
    She shook her head.
    “Then it could be the male who you had sex with.”
    “No, it must be me, he got my sister pregnant.”
    The doctor’s eyebrows rose, his expression disapproving.
    She scowled at him. “Don’t look at me like that. When the Black Russian orders a fuck, even you would bend over.”
    His eyes widened. “I don’t think so, young lady, and if you want me to help you, you will watch your tone of language.”
    “I’m just saying that I wasn’t given a choice. I prefer my head attached to my neck.”
    “Understood, and you may not have been biologically compatible with the Black Russian.”
    “I had unprotected sex with my ex-boyfriend too, and never got pregnant with him either.”
    “I still would prefer to rule out pregnancy first.” He pushed up from his chair and opened a cupboard, removing a box. He held it out for her. “Take this test and you’ll know for sure.”
    She took the box and rose to her feet, thanking him without thought, her mind now on the pregnancy test. She headed out of the room, hiding the box as she passed the Vipers and Alessandro. Hoping her sister was asleep, she entered her room, finding it empty. She went to the bathroom and pulled out the stick, her mind in turmoil. She didn’t want to be pregnant; she wanted to continue preparing to attack the Black Russian. And if she was pregnant, her sister—who was also her leader, wouldn’t let her go.
    She walked back into her bedroom, hiding the test in her suitcase, not wanting to know. Anyway, she couldn’t be pregnant, no matter what the doctor thought. Both the Black Russian and Sasha had fucked her and nothing had happened. So, nothing would happen with Brando too.
    In more ways than one.
    ***
    Needing fresh air, Ivy headed out the back of the house. She walked past the servants’ quarters and the twins’ studio, cutting across the grass to the mammoth swimming pool. A girl was sitting on its edge, with her legs dangling in the water.
    Ivy sat down next to Mira, getting a smile from the teenager, the girl nothing short of beautiful. She was one of the brothers’ daughters: a stunning eighteen-year-old with dark blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes, her face an artist’s dream. Ivy had purposely gone out of her way to friend Mira and her younger sister, wanting them to join the Viper sisterhood, as well as to help her get rid of the Don’s woman. Though, she’d given up on the last of those missions a while ago, because no matter what she did, the Don wasn’t receptive to her, Brando’s oldest brother like a block of stone. It annoyed her no end, but when he continually knocked her back, it was more than her ego could take. He didn’t want her, so she would just have to deal with it. Anyway, men always fucked her over, so his early rejection probably saved her from a whole lot of heartache.
    “ Ciao ,” Mira said.
    “Hello,” Ivy replied, rolling up her pants to her knees. She dunked her legs