All Chapters of Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

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

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.

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

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

AsherTHE NEXT NIGHTWater runs in fast circles around my feet. Some of it gets in my eyes, blurring my vision. It doesn’t stop me from watching the drain. It’s easy to imagine myself washing away more than just sweat or dirt in this pristine place. The truth is, even if the water runs clear, my sins aren’t gone. Nothing can wipe them from my soul.She hates me, but she agreed to dinner. I remember Camila’s face this morning when I came to her door, and how she glared at me through the crack. The thought draws a dark laugh from my throat. She is wild. I have a feeling if I’d stepped into her room, she would have tried to attack me. There are no weapons in there; I made sure of that. But still … I wouldn’t put it past her to have found something suitable outside of her bedroom, tucking it away until I came to see her.Camila has claws; that doesn’t make her foolish enough to use them. Bracing my palms on the pure white tiles of my shower, I arch my face upward into the hot spray. How f