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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
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 46
AsherA walk under the stars doesn’t bring me clarity. It’s a spontaneous decision, one made from a desperate need to recalibrate my emotions. I don’t have a jacket on, and the night air scrapes over my skin, worming into my bones. It’s awful, but it’s still not enough to distract me from the chaos in my soul.I should have apologized sooner. Or more enthusiastically. Regrets are useless. I can’t escape them. The memory of her face, the way she shrank on the stairs, sends shame coursing through my soul. I kick the gravel on the path aimlessly as I wander through the grounds. I don’t watch where I’m going because it doesn’t matter.The only place I want to be is at her side.A sound reaches me. Looking up, I see that I’ve made it to the separate room on the other side of the mansion grounds. There’s light emanating from the window, and wind carries the sound of multiple voices to me.When I get closer, I recognize a few of my men through the glass. Nikolai, Iosif, and Mikhail are insid
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 47
CamilaIn the sunlight, the rose looks alive. I know it isn’t. It hasn’t been for some time. But with each little adjustment of it on my shirt collar, I have to stop and look closely before I remind myself that I’m seeing things.Please, give me strength.I turn the brooch once more—from my right side to the left. It doesn’t matter where I put it; I don’t plan to wear it out of my room. At this point, I’m simply delaying what I must do.I thought about it all night, tossing and turning until my blankets were sweaty. My anger at Asher made it easy to put distance between us. I strolled down the hall with my head held high, confident I was doing the right thing by sleeping in different rooms.Yet, when I got to my bedroom and the late hours crept in, I realized how awful it was to be alone. Asher had become something solid in this place. Without his warmth … the gentle patter of his heart under my arm as we cuddled … I was forced to remember where I was.What I was.His prisoner.It’s h
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 48
AsherThe instant Camila leaves, I fall limply into my chair.Fuck ...This news is a bombshell. The emotional part of me is concerned that she stormed off, calling me a liar, but the logical side of me is busy racing to think of ways this changes everything.Because everything has changed in an instant.Yannick is her father, I think, drawing my hand down my face. That explains everything. Why Yannick was hanging around her family studio after Stepan’s death. Why Yannick called to threaten me when he knew I took Camila. Why Yannick never showed up at the wedding.He’d never dare risk Camila in any potential crossfire. He’d rather slink back into the shadows than risk his own daughter’s life.How could I have been so stupid to not see this?But that’s when another thought hits me, and I sit forward with a start. Camila’s relationship with Yannick makes her powerful. She’s no longer “just a nobody,” as my brigadiers thought. Their opposition to my plan no longer holds weight.My frown
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