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Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 11
She doesn’t argue as she stalks away, her head held high, her hair a mess, and her heels clicking on the wooden floorboards with every step. Nothing in her posture indicates that she lost our battle. I could’ve killed her if I wanted to. But she won.And she knows it.Sitting heavily in my chair, I stare at our plates of food. Camila didn’t touch anything. In fact, she actively refuses every kind gesture I make. I’ve never had someone reject me so thoroughly. My mind is frazzled as it tries to process what the hell just happened.A ringing comes from my pocket. Still distracted, I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”“You’re not going to get away with this.”An icy waterfall drenches me, clearing my mind of the haze of Camila. The voice on the line is thick, gritty, and easy to recognize.“Yannick,” I say, “I was almost starting to get worried you wouldn’t call.”“Act as calm as you want. I’m not joking around. You will pay for this stunt of yours.”He hangs up before I can respond. Holdi
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 12
CamilaI should have kept the knife.That’s all I can think about as I rip the green dress from my body, throwing it onto the floor of the bedroom like it’s a useless rag. It joins the discarded heels, the only shoes I have since they’re the ones I arrived in. Layla was prescient enough to bring me a few pairs of underwear along with the dress. But now, thinking about that kindness makes me angrier.She knew I’d need clean clothes because she’s in on the plan to keep me here. It’s easy to be mad at her. She’s what set Asher off when I was trying to probe him for information. He picked up on how I was subtly leading him into talking about himself. He’s not an easy man to trick.Remembering how I attacked Asher doesn’t bring me joy. In hindsight, it was a stupid move. Because he’s right. If I’d managed to hurt him, or worse, kill him … What would have happened to me? Somehow, I doubt his men would have just let me waltz out after I killed their boss.And if he’s telling the truth about
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 13
CamilaThe pancakes have no flavor. From a distance, I watch myself lift a forkful of the tender batter into my mouth. It’s heavy on my tongue, like chewing a wet sweater, but I eat it anyway. Partly because I need my strength for what’s going to happen today. The other reason is I’m being watched.The young woman waiting by the doorway of the breakfast nook is wearing similar garb to Layla. Hers is lighter in shade, more sienna than soil, but the dress falls to the same length on her wrists and ankles. She keeps her hair in a pair of blonde braids that reach her clavicle, and unlike Layla, she doesn’t have a trace of jewelry on that I can see.Even if she’s got rosy cheeks, I know a sentry when I see one.“You don’t have to stand there,” I tell her. “I’m not going to vanish.”She stiffens like a bolt of lightning hit the top of her head. “Oh! No! I don’t think—It’s just that, um, Mr. Volkov, wanted me to make sure you had everything you needed.”I’m not seated in the same dining room
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 14
Reaching into the pocket of her gray dress, she hands me a small gold wrapper. “Eat. The sugar will help.”Opening the tiny package, I see it’s a hard caramel candy. My mother used to give me these when I was little. Sucking on the candy refuels my energy. “Thank you.”Layla settles beside me on the sofa. She folds her hands neatly on her knees. “You’re troubled about the marriage.”My chuckle is stale and mirthless. “Was it that obvious?”“You must remember that this is all to defeat Yannick.”“Asher said that, yes.”“It’s the truth.”“He also said I’ll be free when it’s over with.” I keep my voice casual. “What if getting rid of him takes a long time? Months or even years.”Layla’s smile is surprisingly tender. “One must do unthinkable things for survival, child.”My molars crack the candy in two; I chew it loudly. “I’m not a child.”“No,” she agrees, looking out at the dresses. “You’re a woman who must choose what she’ll wear to her wedding. That’s not a task for the weak-hearted.”
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 15
AsherWalking through my rose garden is a habit of mine. There’s nothing here but the sky above and green leaves from every angle. Free of distractions, it’s my favorite place to go when I need to think. I’ve come here a lot lately.Why did Layla send me away? I was pissed at the audacity of her command. But one look at the severity in her eyes, and I knew there was a reason for her to throw me out. Thinking back, I recall the way that Camila was acting. The dimple at the base of her throat was flexing madly as she stared at the dresses. She can act strong all she wants, but I know what fear looks like. I was raised around it.“—incredible tits!” a male voice cackles.“I know, man, I saw them,” another replies.The voices come from just ahead of me, where the garden circles a small water fountain. I recognize two of my soldiers. Slowing down, I peer around the corner, confirming it’s Kostya and Niro. They’re leaning on the weather-worn stones that make up the vase shape of the fountai
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 16
CamilaI open my eyes, blearily gazing around my bedroom. At first, I don’t notice the young woman hovering at my bedside. When I do, I throw my blankets back and fall off the mattress with a scream.“Please.” She lifts her hands to show she’s not armed. “Calm down!”“Who are you?” I demand, rising to my feet, clutching my silver silk nightgown. “What do you want?”The woman is my age, or close to it. She’s wearing the same starched dress that every other staff member wears. Her pale blonde hair, light as corn fibers, makes her tan skin seem richer. “Miss, I’m Masha. I’m your attendant this morning.”“My what?” Looking from side to side nervously, in case there are others hiding in my room, I approach her around my bed. “I don’t need an attendant.”“Of course you do.” She blinks, giving me a stare that hints she thinks I’m the weird one. “You’re the future wife of Mr. Volkov.”Hearing that makes my whole body flush. “So what? He’s the boss here, not me.”“Miss … you’re my boss as well
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 17
AsherI’m sipping from a cup of coffee in the small library on the first floor. I don’t trust anyone not to spill on the old books. Their yellowed pages pack decades of stories that can’t be replaced. I’m the only person in the mansion who cares about these things. Thus, I’m the only one with the luxury of enjoying a good drink among the shelves.Setting the mug down on the table, I flip the textured paper over, starting to read the next line, when a series of loud footsteps alerts me. Lifting my eyes, I watch Camila marching toward me. She’s moving with purpose, her head low, arms pumping. There’s a gracefulness in her steps, and my eyes are drawn to her long legs.“I want to see your phone,” she says firmly as she stops in front of me.My eyebrows arch up at her bossy tone. “I see Layla’s lessons are rubbing off on you.”Camila’s pretty mouth turns down at the corners. Her voice comes out gentler—as if she’s trying to show remorse, which is very unlike her.“Sorry,” she says. “I jus
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 18
CamilaThe dopamine high I’m on lasts a whole day.He’s going to let me keep the studio!Well, not keep it keep it; he still plans on owning it. But that’s only paperwork. The dance studio won’t be bulldozed. It will remain as it was. My memories of that place—and by extension of my father—won’t be turned to dust. He’ll probably pay for upgrades too! He wants to turn a profit, and I know I can do that with a little extra help. I can’t wait until I can go back to teach the students. Mom will faint at the news.But why did Asher have a change of heart? I’ve been trying to figure it out since the conversation ended. All I did was tell him the truth about my father. Asher, normally as frozen as an Alaskan mountain, softened as he listened. The sternness around his mouth melted away. He didn’t look like the man who threw me inside a car or held me down on a kitchen table by my throat.Asher looked … human.“Miss, your bath is ready,” Ollie calls out.Moving from my bed to the bathroom, I m
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