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Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 55
CamilaMy nails tug at the prayer beads on my wrist. I debated wearing them—it felt like the antithesis of my drive to escape Asher to end up with his prayer beads in my possession. But somehow, the sensation of them hugging my wrist brings comfort.His eyes were full of so much torment when he gave them to me. It was overwhelming; I almost backed out of my plan. But he left so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to change my mind.Though he assured me he wouldn’t stop me from leaving, I wasn’t about to get sloppy. The next morning when the van arrived, I was watching for it from my window. Layla had instructed me to work my way covertly down to the pantry once I spotted it.With sweat collecting in every crevice of my body, I tiptoed to the pantry. Layla wasn’t there, but my mother was.“Camila,” she gushed, hugging me tight. “Is this really going to work?”“Yes,” I said, faking my bravado. Helping her into the large wooden box stamped with faded markings from whatever farm was selli
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 56
AsherI’m having the nightmare again.Camila’s sweet face, turned pallid from death, stares blindly up at me. I wipe blood from her cheeks, spreading the color until it looks like blush on her dead skin.Whether I’m awake or asleep, I can’t escape the tragedy of losing the woman I love.A hand shakes me roughly and I sit up, coming awake at the sight of Mikhail standing over me in the darkness of my bedroom.“What’s going on?” I demand.“Pakhan, it’s the dance studio.” He shows me his phone. My eyes take a second to adjust, but when they do, I stare hard. Fire twists in a torrid dance around the remaining structure on the screen. The building is blackened by smoke. Red and blue lights from police and fire trucks are flashing. “It’s been burned to the ground.”“When did this happen?” I snarl, throwing my covers aside.“Just twenty minutes ago. I came as soon as I was notified.”“That long?” I snap, throwing clothing on as I speak. “Was no one watching?”“There was a shift change,” he e
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 57
CamilaWhen I see the doctor, I rub my eyes. For a moment he looks like the doctor Asher summoned the day I learned I was pregnant. It’s not him though. It’s funny. I almost wish he was. Stop trying to look for connections back to him. You can’t be with Asher. You can’t.“Hello there,” the man says with a smile. “I’m Dr. Tillmore. You must be Ms. Halloway?”My mother and I share a quick look. Thanks to Jonah, we’ve been set up in a small house on the outskirts of the city. He’s arranged for false names for us as well. “Yes, that’s right,” I say.“Excellent, excellent.” He smacks his lips in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Lie back on the bed, and let’s see how far along you are.”“I thought Adriana would be here.” I glance at my phone for any messages. It’s a brand-new phone, a burner that’s meant to be disposed of after a single use. Jonah has gone all out on precautions. From what I know about the Grachev Bratva, I believe his paranoia is justified.The doctor shrugs lightly. “She
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 58
AsherONE WEEK LATERI’ve always loved the smell of the ocean.When I was a kid, I’d spend my evenings with my father on the docks. It had to be late, nearly sundown, because of his busy schedule, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even mind that all we did together was carve driftwood with our pocketknives. No amount of splinters could ruin the joy I felt from being at his side.Will I get the chance to do the same with my own children? Imagining sitting with them on the docks, our feet hanging over the water, has my heart thrumming. They’d count the boats or ask me to name the different fish strung up on lines. They might want me to take them out to cast our own poles. The idea of such serenity gives me strength.“It stinks out here,” Mila grumbles next to me. “Like dead fish.”Ignoring her comment, I turn my face away from the gust of wind that tugs at my thick, knee-length jacket. The chill of winter is unmistakable in the air. “You’re sure this is the place?” I ask.“I don’t fall for fa
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 59
Camila“These are delicious!” I shovel the third pancake into my mouth. They’re silver-dollar size, perfect for two bites, though I’m making one work.My mother chuckles with delight at how I devour the breakfast she’s made. “Good; you need to eat as much as possible for that baby to be healthy.”“If that’s enough of a reason to eat a stack of these every morning, I’m game.”That draws a full-bodied laugh from her. “Here.” She arranges five more little pancakes onto my plate. “I can make more.”“Oh, no?—”“Nonsense, malyshka. It won’t take long.” To prove her point, she sways over to the large blue bowl on the small counter. There’s barely enough space for the eggs and a bag of flour, but she makes it work. She’s used to having less than this.Watching her whisk up more batter, I’m reminded of living with Asher. I wish I could stop thinking about that time, but it’s futile. That man and his world left an impact on me. As great of a cook as Danil was, nothing beats my mother’s home coo
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 60
My hand clutches my ring. No … not entirely.“Here we are,” Yannick says as we approach a solid white door at the bottom of a set of stairs. The house has two levels visible on the outside; you’d never know there was a basement at a glance. Yannick stares over our heads at Osip and Fyodor. “Fyodor, you stay here. Osip, go check on how the clean-up is going.”“Ah, pakhan, I don’t want to go back there,” Osip grumbles. “It’s disgusting. All that blood.”“What blood? What clean-up?” I ask anxiously.Yannick flicks his eyes at me, then back to the men. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”Osip scuffles out of view, leaving Fyodor looking flustered. He takes a stance against the wall, checking his gun with intense interest.What is Yannick cleaning up? Nothing involving enough blood to upset a man like Osip can be good.Gripping the curved handle on the door, Yannick twists it downward. The hinges squeak when he opens the door. “Go inside,” he tells us.I’m barely through when a new voice—high-p
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 61
AsherI’ve been watching the outside of the house for half an hour. In that time, the sun has begun to set. The long shadows it creates have been the only movement. “Are they really in there?” I whisper to Sergio.He nods rapidly. His face is swollen from last night. I’ve given him some water, but nothing else. My kindness only goes so far with my enemies. It’s funny, but once upon a time, Sergio and I worked together. I thought of him as a sarcastic, loud joker. But now, he’s nothing more than a pathetic, sniveling mess.Mila inches closer to me, talking in my ear. “I haven’t spotted anybody coming or going. If they’re in there, I can’t tell.”“The blinds are shut,” I note.“They’re keeping a low profile; they wouldn’t risk being seen from the street,” she says.I rub my chin anxiously. My calves are cramping from how long I’ve held my position. The worst pain, however, is my heart, which aches to see Camila again. Knowing she could be just a few yards away is torture.“You still thi
Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant 62
CamilaI wonder how many different ways I can rearrange the potatoes on my plate without actually putting any in my mouth. So far, I’ve created a snowman, a three-legged dog, and a pretty decent interpretation of the Eiffel Tower. They’re still warm, which seems impossible. Because I swear I’ve been sitting here forever.My mother sits to my left—she hasn’t eaten either, but she’s on her second glass of wine. Yannick watches us from across the table. His appetite is just fine. The food on his plate is half gone, and he stabs a chunk of steak, dragging it through the bloody juices before bringing it to his mouth.My stomach gives a heave as his lips smack.From the nearby room, Roman cries out excitedly. The noise of him clacking his toys together has been the only thing keeping the dinner from being entirely silent. He joined us for all of five minutes before he finished his meal and asked to be excused.I’ve never seen a kid shovel down a meal as fast as Roman did. Yannick watched th
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