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Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 1
CamilaNo matter how many times I punch the numbers into the calculator, they just don't add up. How can this be happening? I silently worry, afraid that saying it out loud will make it real. Worse, my mother might hear the frustration in my voice. I can't upset her, not after all we've been through."Come on, come on!" I press the keys harder, hoping for a different result, but it stays the same every time. Over and over.I hit the clear button again and again until the calculator slips from my hand and crashes to the floor of our small office. The room feels even tinier with all the papers scattered around, papers I've never seen before today, and I wonder if my mother ever did."Camila?" My mother, Katinka, asks nervously, reaching across the desk towards me. Her fingers are slender, her nails perfectly kept despite everything. She does them herself, a skill that might be crucial now as I look at these documents..."We're in financial trouble," I say flatly. As I look up from her n
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 2
CamilaAdriana hadn’t waited more than five minutes, but the array of empty glasses on her table suggested otherwise.“Camila!” she exclaims, waving energetically for me to join her. Her voice carries, drawing mixed looks from nearby patrons. Not that Adriana doesn’t naturally attract attention with her long red hair, perfect hourglass figure, and adorable freckles that look almost painted on.“Hey, Adriana.” I settle into the chair across from her.Leaning closer, she lowers her voice. “How’s Katinka?”“Mom’s okay.” I grimace, shaking my head and inadvertently whipping my cheeks with my hair. “Actually, no, she’s not. But before I get into that, I need one of those.” I nod at the empty glasses.Adriana signals for the waitress. A petite server in a tight black skirt sways over. A guy tries to grab her, and she deftly elbows him away without breaking stride. I can’t help but laugh. She catches my eye and winks as she approaches. “What can I get you girls?”“Some liquor to get us start
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 3
Camila"What's wrong, Camila? You look awful. Are you sick?" My mom's worried voice cuts through my foggy mind. Everything feels slow, like I'm moving through thick syrup, a feeling that's been with me since I woke up from a restless sleep."I'm okay," I insist, trying to shake off her concern.Her narrowed eyes tell me she's not convinced. "Well, pull yourself together. The buyer will be here any minute."Her reminder snaps me awake like a shot of espresso. I straighten up, running my hands over my hair, which is tied back in a simple bun today—partly for a professional look, partly because I didn't have the energy for more this morning.My hangover twists my stomach. But it's the unsettling memory of last night's events that bothers me most.Will it make the news today? Should I have reported it? Deep down, I know getting involved could be risky. But the idea of someone's death going unnoticed by their loved ones doesn't sit right with me."Camila, please, focus," Mom interrupts my
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 4
Suddenly, blood rushes in my ears, drowning out Asher’s words as he continues speaking. “It’s unfortunate that you have such a low opinion of me. Let me change that. We’ll be spending a lot of time together as we finalize the contract.”He’s the one! He’s the man who killed that person! My breath catches, and I forget to exhale. Asher squints at me, and an irrational fear grips me—that he’s somehow reading my thoughts.As his hand drops to his side, I follow the movement down to his wrist. He watches me closely. Damn it… Does he recognize me from last night? I ran away as fast as I could…He didn’t see my face… did he?“Mr. Volkov is right, Camila,” Mom intervenes. “Let’s keep things civil. This will benefit all of us, even if it doesn’t seem that way now. It’s a chance for a fresh start. Please.”“Listen to your mother,” he adds with a smirk. “Don’t let your personal desires get in the way of giving your mother the opportunity she deserves.”“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I murmur.
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 5
CamilaMy hands are sweaty and damp as I let go of the steering wheel.Just breathe. In and out.I bow my head, shutting my eyes, focusing on the slow rhythm of my breathing. It's the third time I've tried this in the last ten minutes. It hasn't calmed me yet, but I can't think of anything better.I could just drive away instead of meeting Asher face-to-face. The thought tempts me. Relaxing my grip on the steering wheel, I push open the car door. As appealing as disappearing sounds, it would mean losing my only chance to save the studio.I need to be brave.I can do this.Adjusting my jean jacket over my knee-length tan sweater dress, I slip my phone, with my wallet attached, into my pocket. It probably won't help much, but I've set Adriana as my emergency contact, not my mom. If she found out I was in trouble, she'd overreact. And involving the police would likely be pointless.Adriana, though, would figure something out if I called her in a panic. She'd make Jonah move mountains to
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 6
AsherThere’s an old saying: the devil resides in calm waters.I doubt Camila knows this proverb. Unfortunate for her, but advantageous for me.Inside the car, darkness envelops us. In this space, only she and I exist. The driver is inconsequential to me. The men waiting to follow us are irrelevant. Right now, all that matters, if only for a moment, is the satisfaction of having her. Camila is in my grasp.Pulling out my phone, its screen casts a faint blue glow in the car’s interior. It outlines the edges of her jaw, highlighting each strand of hair that has come loose from her once pristine updo. She’s beautiful, even in fear. Perhaps... more so, in a peculiar way. She reminds me of a vibrant butterfly resting on a flower. They stand out in the world, demanding attention. Yet for all their splendor, a gentle touch can crush them into dust.“What are you going to do with me?” she demands.Such boldness. Even now, here, trapped with me. I ignore her, focusing on typing a message to Mi
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 7
CamilaThe urge to resist surges through me, my body coiled like a spring, yearning to erupt with every uncertain step I take. Don’t fight yet. I need to orient myself before I make a move. I know I’m outnumbered. Patience is my only ally."Inside," one of the men grunts, pushing his hand against my back. A forceful shove sends me stumbling forward. I regain my balance and spin around to confront them—there's a click. I freeze, imagining the barrel of a gun aimed at my chest. They’re going to shoot me. I’m dead. Oh shit.My breath rushes out in a frantic stream, my ears straining to catch any hint of what Asher’s men might be planning.Silence greets me.That wasn’t a gun cocking. It was the door closing!Ripping off the blindfold, I find myself alone in a bedroom. Despite its size, it doesn’t feel empty. The shelves lining the walls are meticulously adorned with bowls of dried flowers and small candles in shades of red, complementing the sunflower-yellow carpet. A single window with
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 8
AsherShock, unease, fear—the fleeting emotions that dance across Camila's face transform her beauty in ever-changing ways. But in an instant, she masks them behind a veneer of genuine rage, her fists clenched at her sides.Advancing towards me, she demands, "What the hell is going on? What is all of this?""You'll have to be more specific," I chuckle lightly.Furrowing her brow, she gestures towards the photos on the wall. "Have you been following me?""Just doing some research," I reply casually.It's the nonchalant manner in which I deliver those words that seems to unsettle her. Camila stiffens, as though restraining an impulse to strike me. A surge of adrenaline courses through me; I enjoy provoking her, though it's neither professional nor part of the plan. Some things are beyond prediction.She exhales sharply, her shoulders slumping. "Stop playing games. I want to know why you're doing all of this.""I'm not playing any game, ptichka," I assert, closing the distance between us
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