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Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 38
CamilaThe papers are spread across my bed like I’m planning to make a thousand paper flowers for a wedding. They cover the blanket so thickly you can hardly see it between the gaps. Stalking around the mattress, I write hastily on the back of a scrap piece I’ve folded in half.My notes must make me seem insane. No one could decipher my scribbles, which have been made in increasingly frantic lines. But I need to write to keep track, and also … to believe that what I’m seeing is true.This can’t be real. It just can’t!Staring in between my writing and the documents, I finally sink onto the floor in a heap. There’s no denying it. I’ve gone over everything a hundred times—it’s nearly dawn. After the high- octane escape out of the mansion and back again, I’m awake from pure adrenaline.What I’ve learned is going to change everything.Mom ... is this what you didn’t want me to know?The major trail of income into the dance studio points in one direction. For years, my father accepted mone
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 39
AsherFacing my reflection in the mirror, I pull at the bags under my eyes.I look like shit.It’s not just sleep that eludes me. It’s that when I do go under, my dreams are shifting, torturous things that assault me. I’ve always been plagued by demons. For a little while, with Camila at my side, they retreated. But since Mila came by with more useless intel, nothing soothes me.My most talented assassin has no idea what Yannick is doing. She doesn’t know where he is, what he wants, or when he’ll act. Fuck, or if he even will act. The bastard has gone underground without any indication of resurfacing.Scratching at my hair, I shut my eyes with a shaky sigh. My world is falling apart. It’s dramatic, yes, but it’s how it feels. I’m nothing without my plans. All I’ve focused on for the last ten years is how to eradicate Yannick with my own two hands.How do you kill a ghost?Shambling into my bathroom, I run the hot water in my shower until the room is covered in steam. It’s so thick it
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 40
Slipping my hand between us, I slide her tights down her thighs. She moans in my ear. I cling to that sound like it’s a buoy in the rocky ocean. Camila has been taking me apart bit by bit, day by day. This newest revelation that she’s pregnant is detaching me from the world.“I love you,” I tell her, kissing her before she can answer in kind. Her little gasp tickles my tongue. My cock stirs, hardening to the point of pain.Running my fingers through her luxurious hair, I go further, caressing her ribs, pushing my thumb pads along the line that leads to her navel. Hooking her dress up, I lightly pet the front of her panties; they’re soaked through. My cock flexes eagerly. Then I trace her pussy lips through the silk, discovering how engorged they are, and my entire body tenses.She’s turned on as much, or maybe more, as I am.“I love you too.”With my breath quickening, I move aside the elastic band. Camila acts instantly; gripping my wrist, she works to get my fingers inside of her. H
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 41
Camila“Thank you for having lunch with me,” I say. My mother and I are sitting in a small nook split off from the main floor. I had two of the staff set up a small table with finger sandwiches, glossy eclairs, and my mother’s favorite, pirozhkis stuffed with potatoes and onions.Mom, who has taken to dressing like the house is as cold as a cellar, is wearing a fluffy blue sweater over a pair of sleek white pants. I’ve chosen something loose—a bishop’s sleeve dress the same color as the chocolate on the eclairs.“You say that like I wouldn’t agree,” she chides. “What mother doesn’t make time for her daughter?”One who knows her daughter is trying to pry info from her … Putting on a big grin, I pick up a cucumber sandwich, taking a nibble. My stomach isn’t loving any kind of food with intense flavors just yet.My mother plucks up a pirozhki. “Hm,” she muses, judging it critically. “Who made these?”“Chef Danil did.”“Chef?” she mocks. “Asher has a private chef? Well of course he does.”
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 42
AsherIs it too reckless to burn a whole city to the ground?That’s what I’m wondering as I flip through my piles of paperwork in the library. My eyes scrape over the notes I’ve kept for the last few months. Plans upon plans exist in my esoteric scribbles. Some are in code, others meaningless drivel to the untrained eye.But for people like me—a man neck-deep in a bloody war—it’s an instruction manual. Except it didn’t work, I remind myself furiously. Meticulous planning, yet nothing has come to fucking fruition! None of my men have reported movement by Yannick in the last week. Other than sending someone to shoot up the studio, he seems to have vanished from the face of this earth.I have to dig him out of his hole. My fingertips crimp the edges of my notes. I imagine the paper is his throat and start crushing it into a ball. It’s not like I need these documents anymore. They haven’t done me any good.There’s a light knock on the frame of the library door. My head jerks up. Camila is
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 43
CamilaI’ve never been so furious.How dare he? How fucking dare he!Asher had no right to raise his voice to me. No, you’re mad about the wrong thing. The issue is he’s still controlling what you do! For him to deny me the right to walk out the front door, to feel the sun on my skin, and to smell the fresh air simply because I desire it—he’s being a damn bastard.I’m not paying attention to where I’m going. Looking up, I find I’m in the main room by the front door. Lately, my subconscious continues to lead me here. Locking my legs, I gaze at the exit longingly. I could do it. Just open it, run outside, and ignore the men who would try to stop me. If I go fast enough, they won’t catch me.Imagining Kostya’s face when I dart past him brings me a flash of perverse delight. He hates me. I know it. Making him panic would be so satisfying.My hand inches toward the brass knob. From the corner of my eye, I sense movement through the window. Jolting backward, I lean closer, recognizing my mo
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 44
AsherThe sound of laughter rolls through the partially open door of the small building. Beyond the crack, I can see multiple men loitering around a table. Their attitude is relaxed—for the most part. My brigadiers know that when I call them for a meeting, something important is happening.“Everyone is in there, pakhan,” Nikolai speaks beside me.He’s wearing a navy-blue jacket over his taupe slacks. He was the one I instructed to gather the other brigadiers here. Ever since I caught him gossiping with Kostya, he’s intentionally kept the two of them separate. I suspect, on some level, that his goal is selfish. Men are quick to do whatever it takes for their own success. Nikolai wants to climb the ladder and be seen as worthy, which means he thinks I consider Kostya to be pathetic.He’s wrong.While I might have relegated Kostya to less glorifying work like guard duty far below what his rank deserves and I kept him from attending the wedding, it’s not because I don’t respect him. In tr
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 45
CamilaSneaking around the mansion, I feel like the eyes of every staff member are on me. They’re not who I’m avoiding though.I do my best to leave my room only for a quick meal and nothing else. It’s the only option I have until I figure out what to do. Mom gave me what I asked for—information—but the weight of it is crushing me.What do I do with the knowledge that my loving father isn’t really my father? This knowledge is a brutal beast hiding in the shadows, hunting me for some unknown purpose. Pandora’s Box must have been simpler than this.I haven’t processed the news. Not truly. It sits in my stomach like a boulder, and I have no tools to chip it apart. It’s lodged so firmly I barely have any appetite. I have to make myself eat. I rub my belly tenderly. It’s not just me I have to take care of.I’m nearly down the stairs to the first level when I see him.Asher is on his way up the steps, and he spots me before I can retreat from view. I’ve been avoiding him since our tense enc
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