All Chapters of Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

AsherLayla has the ability to traverse my home with the lightness of a mouse on tiptoe. I only hear her footsteps because I’m listening for them. My office door is open, her shadow slipping through the gap moments before she does.“Asher Volkov,” she says to announce herself. Her posture is stiff, shoulders pulled back and jaw clenched.She knows why I’ve called for her.“Explain yourself.”“About what?”She won’t make this easy for me. Fine. Sitting forward in my leather chair, I place my elbows on my spread knees, my chin perched on my laced fingers. “You knew Camila’s little secret. Didn’t you?”Gently, with just her heel, she shuts the door. “Her brother? I did.”There it is. The confirmation I expected but hoped to be wrong about. “It seems everyone is happily keeping secrets from me,” I grumble, reclining back in my chair.Her eyebrows lower to match her tone. “Can you blame them?”My fingers, which had started to relax on the chair’s arms, dig in fiercely enough to make the le

AsherStepping out of my shoes, I throw them carelessly to the far end of my bedroom. My overshirt goes next. I’m in nothing but my pants and a sleeveless undershirt when someone knocks on my door.Drawing my hand over my face, I stare at my reflection in the closet door mirror. I’m haggard, to put it politely. If it’s Layla knocking, she’s going to take one look at the messy state of my room and conclude I’m becoming a slob. Finding the energy to be tidy isn’t easy. This listlessness goes beyond mere exhaustion.I’m bone-tired after my talk with Camila. Every conversation we have feels like a battle. I’m not winning any of them, though I don’t think I’d feel better if I did.The knock comes again—more insistent. Sighing, I grab the brass knob and yank. “What do you—” I stop talking. Camila stands in front of me in a thin lavender silk robe she’s thrown hastily around her shoulders. “Camila, what’s wrong?” After telling me she needed time, I expected she’d avoid me until tomorrow.“It

CamilaI’ve developed a slight obsession with baby forums. My mother is out of reach, Layla has never had kids, Ollie is too naive, and Adriana … I should be able to talk to Adriana, but ever since her husband was roped in to help with the cops, our relationship has been awkward. Each chat has a heavy air around it, like discussing the baby is inappropriate.I’ve wondered more than once if she’s not actually excited about the pregnancy. Her opinion of Asher isn’t a glowing one, after all.Sitting downstairs in a patch of sun on the long green couch by the massive windows, I scroll through my phone idly. There are all kinds of messages on the forum. People post about how far along they are—they love comparing their babies to the size of vegetables and fruit—and talk about if they’re having a boy or a girl; they even complain about their in-laws. That’s a very popular topic to vent about.I’d take that problem over the ones I have, I muse cynically. I’m reading the live chat, and half t

Asher“Tell me everything,” I say.I’m standing in one of the large bedrooms in the cabin. There are four, but this is the biggest. It’s the only space that can comfortably fit me, Mila, and six of my brigadiers. Kostya has placed himself dead center in the room, his shoulders pulled back, head high and static. The rest sit behind him in an arrangement of chairs I’ve had brought in from other rooms.Mila is the only other one on her feet; she’s picked the back right corner, huddling into the gap like she wants to be ignored. She keeps her arms tucked around her chest, her lips scrunched up.Kostya clears his throat. “Three days after you left, the police raided the mansion. They searched it up and down, turned it inside out, but of course, they found nothing.”“I assume they interrogated the staff?” I ask.“Nobody said a word, of course.”Not surprising; my people are loyal down to their bone marrow. “Good. What else?”Kostya glances over at Nikolai. The lanky man jumps to his feet to

AsherWinter has wrapped the world in its fist. Though no more storms have arrived, the weather has been stark. The kind of cold that steals the air from your lungs if you stand outside and take too deep of a breath. From the window of the back bedroom, I stare over the lake. Its ivory surface melds with the land. I only know it’s there because parts of the wooden dock are visible. The thick rope extends out before vanishing into the nothingness.“I was patrolling one of the areas you gave me, pakhan,” Kostya says from my side. He arrived ten minutes ago with Mila. I wasted no time rushing them into this private place for some news. “We have a location on Yannick.”I twist around to stare at him with interest. “Well?” I demand.“He was moving Katinka and the boy, Roman, into a black vehicle. A Mercedes. They proceeded to drive west while I pursued. The place they stopped at is a house in another suburb, one that’s still under development, very secluded. Lightly defended too, at least