All Chapters of Mafia's Runaway And Pregnant: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Asher“You’re going there?” Camila asks me, her eyes wide, but her voice is torn between fear and hope. She hates that I’m putting myself in danger. I get it. But the reward at the end of this, if I do everything right, is something she’s been begging for daily.“I have to. The Winter Palace could be where your mother is being held captive.”Madison claimed there was an older woman there. Yannick might have put Katinka to work teaching dance. I can’t discount the idea that this is a trap. But what if it isn’t? I don’t have a reason to believe a lick of what came out of that girl’s mouth, but the Winter Palace was already on my list to investigate. Mikhail rattled off a few locations when Mila interrogated him.This was one of them.I haven’t been back there since the day I killed Pyotr.Camila, who’s now staring at me with yearning, making her eyes sparkle, brought that bastard back to the forefront of my mind. I told her that every kill stays with me, and it’s the truth. But I’ve nev

CamilaIt’s bright outside, and oddly sunny for winter. The glare through the car’s windshield blinds me at certain angles. Asher’s sunglasses make it hard to catch the way his eyes skirt toward me before returning to the road.“Where are we going?”There’s a wisp of a smirk on his lips. “You’ll see.”“Why can’t you just say?” I ask.“Because the point of a surprise is to be surprised, ptichka.”I roll my eyes, but truthfully, I’m delighted. It’s clear he’s enjoying himself, so this “surprise” must be good. Plus, the last surprise like this involved me getting a bucket-list item of a ballet performance of a lifetime. What could he be cooking up?Having something to take my mind off how stressful the last months have been is a welcome change. It’s only been a few days since Asher’s foiled assault on the Winter Palace. From browsing the internet on my phone, I was able to find out that the news reported the incident as the cops intervening in some massive organized crime feud. Listening

AsherWith my hand still on her stomach, I kiss her with the slightest of pressure—lighter than a leaf on a pond. Bit by bit, I sink in harder until our teeth touch. Her throat flexes, air leaving her nose in an intoxicating shudder. Kissing her never gets stale. I can taste her mouth for hours, perhaps days, the pair of us taking breaks only for water. I picture it now—the kind of lazing in bed a newly married couple does on their honeymoon.We never had one.Of course not … It would have made no sense then. But now it pains me like an itch I can’t quite sate. I want to spoil Camila. I want to see her stretched out on the sand with the blue water rolling behind her, her skin soaking up the sun. We’d fuck right then and there until both of us were red with sunburn, and then we’d retreat inside for round two.“Asher,” she moans, opening her mouth wider, allowing me to sweep my tongue inside. My thumb on her jaw treads over the angle until I reach her ear. Curling a hand firmly into her

CamilaThe sun is setting when he leaves. Our goodbye is brief, too brief, both of us lingering by the front door as he checks his guns under his jacket. He’s counting bullets. Dutifully making sure the safety is on and that his weapons are where he wants them in easy reach. He flips them out multiple times, testing his speed before holstering again. Meticulous to his core.Asher is going to save my mother. Last time he tried, he came back injured.This time he could come back in a casket.“Wait,” I say, grabbing his wrist on impulse. He’s cracked the door, letting crisp air that warns of a winter storm creep inside the house. It feels like a bad omen. I grip him tighter. “Take Mila.”He shakes his head patiently, like he’s already explained why he can’t. “She’s still recovering.”“At least take some backup?—”“I told you, the fewer people I bring, the better.” His eyes grow big and gentle. “Camila, I know you’re nervous. But this is the best way to do this.”The best way would be to

CamilaHeadlights glow like a pair of wolf eyes as they pass through the gate. They skirt along the ground, predicting the path of the car seconds before its tires roll along, where it halts in front of the house. It’s been over an hour since Asher left to save my mother, and I haven’t breathed easily since.What happened? Did he rescue my mom? Did he kill Yannick?Did he kill Roman?I need to know the answer to that final question as much as I need oxygen to keep my lungs working. I need to know just how far Asher is willing to go.I can’t build a future with a child murderer. I just can’t.The driver’s door opens in a wide swing. Asher steps out, his movements stiff and slow. With his hand gripping the car roof, he cranes his neck until he’s looking at my bedroom window. My light is on, so he can see my silhouette. His posture doesn’t ease up. If anything, he looks more distressed. From this distance, there’s no mistaking the hollowness in his eyes.Mom isn’t with him.He failed in