Page 25 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

W hen my period didn’t come a week after I expected it, it put a twist on the concept of my life being completely changed.

I can’t be…

Pacing in the bathroom, I tried to dispel the growing worry that the pregnancy test I had yet to take would damn me to another new identity.

It was one thing to forget about my past, to leave behind those days of wishing I could further my lessons in dance and not have to put up with my dad. Or not knowing anyone influential to help me change my life. Or not wondering when money wouldn’t be so tight and I wouldn’t go hungry.

But to think ahead and envision being the mother of a baby I’d share with a Mafia boss like Luka? That terrified me.

It was just too big of a change to accept.

I can’t be.

Life couldn’t be that wicked, that cruel.

I just couldn’t be pregnant. As if willing it not to be true, I delayed taking the test and paced. And paced some more, like more movement would keep the likely truth and reality further away.

Physically and biologically, yes, I had high chances of this happening. Luka hadn’t once used protection of any kind with me. No protection at all. With that wild card, it was as though we were playing with the unknown.

Slumping to lean against the edge of the vanity, I stared down at the test kit again.

Willing myself to just take it already wasn’t helping.

The need to know burned inside me, but the fear of what could happen afterward intimidated me.

My chest hadn’t been this tight with anxiety since that day Alexsei and Emil showed up to kidnap me for Luka, snatching me right out of the crummy apartment I’d shared with Dad.

Just take it.

Knowing would help.

It was the unknown that loomed so hugely and scarily.

I blinked, watching my trembling fingers as I opened the box slowly.

Yes, I was that nervous. No, scratch that, I was petrified.

But what did you expect? Huh?

To just fuck all the time and magically never have this happen?

Luka had his cum in me all the time. Constantly. At the rate that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, it was almost like we were testing fate to see when, not if, I would become pregnant with his baby.

I set the box on the vanity and drew in a long, shaky breath to steady myself.

Clearly, he can’t be opposed to having a baby. If he didn’t want one, then he would’ve insisted on protection.

Right?

I swallowed hard as another, even worse, idea hit me.

Or…

I moved toward the toilet to take the test, determined not to consider the alternative. Once the test was done and I’d washed my hands, I lifted my head to stare at my reflection in the mirror.

Or… I grimaced, putting my hand on my stomach that had been off lately with most mornings presenting nausea.

Or he could just not care and plan to make me get rid of it.

Tears burned at my closed lids as I fought the idea of losing a child. To give up a baby, a new life.

I’d lost my mother far too young. My dad was never a parent to me. He’d given me away so easily, proving how little I’d ever mattered to him.

A family was one thing I never thought I’d have. A real family. It had been so deeply entrenched in my soul that I’d always be alone and never have anyone to count on.

That’s not true.

I have Luka.

He’d killed to save me. He’d spent so much time and money to provide for me and show me the wonderful world of intimacy.

If I didn’t dwell on it and think too hard about it, these Dubinin men were becoming something like a family. One I’d found, rather than been born into. But if I were to actually have a baby and grow my own little family here with them…

Oh, God.

Dread claimed me again. I had to know. I glanced at the timer I’d set and resolved to wait the full time for the test, to ensure it could be as accurate as possible.

“One more minute,” I whispered to myself, as if hearing my voice would steady my nerves.

I had to know. Then I’d react. Whatever the results were, I’d survive. That was what I was best at.

While it was becoming easier to adjust and see Luka—and even the others like Emil, Ivan, and Alexsei—as family, that was it.

Allen, too, I supposed. He was all right.

But past that group of men, the rest of their organization consisted of a bunch of strangers to me.

Nameless yet there, always in the background and never for me to deal with personally.

Especially them .

Narrowing my eyes at my reflection in the mirror, I listened to the telltale sound of one of the maids moving throughout the hallway. Luka was the boss of a huge organization, and that included a hefty house staff here at his house.

I realized within my first month of being here that they’d never welcome me.

The maids. All the housekeepers. Even a couple of the cooks.

They’d made it clear that I wasn’t a distinguished guest. With slight smirks and side-eyes, they’d given me the impression that I was a nuisance here, unwanted and rejected no matter how much I’d practically moved into Luka’s bed and stayed in his room with him.

I wasn’t eager to explore why they had such antagonism to me. From the gossip I overheard, when they assumed I wasn’t near to hear anything, they counted on my being gone soon. That I was just a pastime, a temporary fuck toy for Luka before he’d tire of me and get bored until he got rid of me.

They’d talk without a care when Luka and the others weren’t in the house.

I heard it all, filing it away to better know who my enemies were and what I’d need to look out for.

It hadn’t seemed to matter when Luka spent more time with me here.

Near him, they’d be obedient. With him around, they wouldn’t dare to talk shit about me.

Like that, they were proving to be catty, mean girls. Jealous, perhaps, that Luka wouldn’t pay attention to them.

For the first couple of months of sleeping with Luka, I hadn’t thought much about it. I dismissed it, secure in Luka’s desire. I felt safe with even Emil’s tentative approval. Ivan and Alexsei seemed to assume I was here to stay for now, and I could fit in.

But the house staff were something else.

They’d never be my family. I still didn’t have a friend here.

And I could’ve used one with this panic that I could be pregnant.

Instead of being able to ask one of the maids for a pregnancy test, I had to spend a couple of days hunting down a test kit in the guest bathrooms.

They had to be suspicious of even that. I knew they’d noticed me snooping.

So what? Fuck them. Find out what’s going on in your life and ignore them.

Pushing out a deep exhale, I straightened and reached for the test. The time was up. I held my breath as I turned the plastic stick over and saw that my life was definitely going to be different.

Pregnant.

I set my hand on the back of my neck and fought through the instant adrenaline rush.

Calm down.

It’ll be okay.

You’ll figure this out.

I staggered down to the floor, sliding against the wall of the vanity counter. Seated as my heart raced, I dropped the test and hugged my knees. Tucking my head against my folded arms wouldn’t hide the reality from me.

And I should’ve suspected sooner.

Last month, I spotted, and I assumed that was my period, out of whack from the stress of being here and how I’d nearly been gunned down at my audition.

Then this month, I was waiting for my period to show. As an athletic dancer, it wasn’t uncommon for me to skip a month here or there.

Luka knew when I’d spotted. But he hadn’t followed up to ask anything lately.

He has to know.

Or assume.

Or, fuck, I don’t know. Maybe he’s too busy to realize I could be skipping my periods. It hadn’t come to the point that he wanted sex and I had to explain that I wasn’t able to.

I’m pregnant.

I sat there, zoning out as that line of truth replayed in my mind like a mantra. It was just so shocking, so surreal, that I struggled to accept it. With time, though, as I steadied my breath and tried to calm down, I knew that panicking wouldn’t be wise.

I have to hide it.

Telling Luka felt like too much of a risk.

It would be an enormous risk when I had no clue of what he saw happening with me in the long term.

As the plan to hide this pregnancy formed in my mind, I battled the self-loathing and annoyance that I could’ve been this careless too.

I was a virgin when I’d arrived, and I was obviously less experienced than Luka.

But I could’ve asked about a condom, too.

It was stupid of me to be so hung up on him that I neglected that all-important detail too.

Hide it. Wait and see if you can bring this up to Luka and go from there. It felt so clinical, like it was a mission, rather than the discovery of a new life to celebrate.

Just get up. Wait and see. And survive. You can do this.

I’d even do it alone if I had to.

Once I wrapped the test in paper and shoved it way down in the trash can to cover it up so the nosy housekeepers wouldn’t see it, I left the bathroom.

Two women in maid uniforms looked up when I entered the hallway. It seemed that I’d caught them mid-gossip. In this context, though, I couldn’t spare them a worry. My head was jumbled with this revelation that I’d be a mother.

That I’d bring a baby into this world.

Into this building, locked up and secure because the men who ruled here were ruthless killers and powerful leaders of crime.

Over the next couple of days, I tried my best not to show how severely this secret was eating away at me.

Luka was busy, fortunately, and he didn’t seem to notice how quiet I was.

I tried not to act any differently, but inside, I wasn’t the same.

Instead of just dancing and looking forward to spending time with him, I was doing calculations of how far along I was and if I could ensure a healthy life for this child.

I spent time fantasizing the best- and worst-case scenarios of where I could live, how I’d raise this baby.

With Luka?

Or would he kick me out?

I refused to even consider the idea that he’d make me terminate the pregnancy. I’d run before he’d see to that.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind. After all, he does have a son. He loves Emil.

What didn’t help was the increase of gossip I overheard from the house staff.

When they were near the serving quarters, in the kitchen they used, they didn’t hold back on any juicy Mafia secrets.

Most of what they said didn’t matter to me.

It was all irrelevant rumors about people I didn’t know.

But when they talked about other crime families and how they stuck with the principle that sons were worth more than daughters, I had to cringe.

I was horrified how these people would talk so freely of how the criminal families worked and were structured.

I didn’t want my son to be a pawn or a token of leverage, expected to grow up as a killer.

I didn’t want my daughter to be raised with the expectation that she’d be sold or traded, worthy only as a virgin before being bred to have babies and heirs.

Late in the evening, when Luka was still gone with work, I did my best to stifle the tears that threatened to leak. Sitting in my room, hugging a pillow to my stomach as I watched the rain fall outside, I thought back to all I’d overheard. I ruminated on how I could figure out my future.

I can’t stay.

I couldn’t bear to risk the slight possibility of Luka welcoming a child with me, only to use him or her.

I have to get out of here before he can find out.

He couldn’t know. I had to escape once and for all, no matter how much I was coming to lo?—

Stop it.

Shaking my head, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. That couldn’t be it. I dismissed this stupid idea that I could love this Mafia boss who’d taken me.

He wouldn’t love me.

The longer I waited for him to come home from another lengthy night of him delivering violence and justice as he saw fit, I knew that much.

He didn’t love me.

Lusted for me, yes.

Desired me in his bed, of course.

But love wasn’t a part of what we shared. Since the moment I arrived here, he’d emphasized that I was a thing , his thing. Here to be owned.

Not loved.