Page 27 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

L uka was right.

As I rode the thrill and exhilarating elation of coming so hard, I knew he had a solid and valid point.

Right now, he was mine. I had exclusive rights to enjoy his attention, and boy, did he give it to me. He didn’t hold back in pleasuring me, already so wise in how to use his body to fit with mine so we’d both shatter from intense orgasms.

However, in the back of my mind, I knew how wrong he was too.

We could enjoy this moment. Living in the present had always seemed like such a stupid, illogical line of advice.

With him, I tried to. Focusing only on how good he felt rutting me like this, high up on a balcony in the open air before a storm would crash down on us, I felt like I was the star in an epic adventure, at the top of the world.

Physically, he could commandeer my thoughts until they ceased to bother me. He could distract me like this.

Yet, as he withdrew then cleaned me up, wiping me gently, I had to return to earth.

The present was fine.

But it was the future that consumed my worries.

I had Luka right now, here, as a sexy, sinful lover.

What would he be tomorrow? What would he be in approximately six and a half more months when I’d probably be ready to have this baby?

Would he be with me, excited to be a father again?

Would he order me to get rid of him or her?

Or would I be gone, too scared to trust his reaction or the chance of raising this innocent new life in the grip and context of all that came with a violent criminal family?

Hanging my head as I pulled my bra and shirt back up and together, I wrestled with the need to come clean and just tell him. To be brave and simply confess.

Luka, I’m pregnant. I’m not giving this baby up.

Take it or leave it.

Rehearsing those bold lines in my head threatened a panic attack.

Hey, Luka? What would you think about my being a mother? I’ll handle it all and go.

Thinking along that path didn’t make me feel any better.

For one, I doubted he’d just release me.

He’d made it crystal clear that I was his until he saw no worth left in me.

Secondly, I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted to stay and bask in the comfort and security he offered me.

I only wished to know if I could have him but not dread my child being shipped away to be a soldier or a token in a trade.

“Come in before it rains,” he said, reaching for my hand. “Unless you’d rather shower out here with the storm.”

I smiled slightly at his sarcasm, following him inside so we could shower together. He never failed to care for me and comfort me in a warm, steamy stall until we’d both be tempted to start round two of more intimacy.

Before I fully entered the penthouse, this extravagant and expensive floor I never could’ve imagined setting foot in with my previous life as a nobody, his phone rang.

He sighed, perhaps daunted by how he’d be in demand already. No breaks for the boss.

Without letting go of my hand, he extracted his phone from his pocket and answered. “Yes?”

I couldn’t hear the other line, but whoever the caller was, they spoke loudly and with urgency.

It was an urgency that transferred to Luka.

I felt the tension in him right away. His fingers tightened on mine.

His knuckles turned whiter as he gripped his phone and held it close to his ear.

Those dark eyes narrowed. Anger lit the glitter of power in his gaze, but it wasn’t a fury directed at me.

“We’re leaving now,” he growled after a few more seconds of listening to the caller.

Something was up.

Or something was going down.

I didn’t know and I didn’t want to, preferring to mind my own business as I lived in the world of these criminals.

“Yes,” he said into the phone before disconnecting in a hurry. Staring at me as he led me toward the front door, he explained what I could already guess. “We need to go. Now.”

I nodded, but I doubted he even registered my agreement.

He had already turned to face forward, practically dragging me out of the penthouse and racing toward the elevator.

A pair of Dubinin soldiers were standing out there, always ready to protect the boss.

They, too, must have heard the same urgent news in the comms units they wore in their ears.

No confusion showed in their serious expressions as they flanked us toward the elevator.

“Go down in the freight,” Luka said as the metal panels slid open. “Petyr said they’re surrounding the building on the west side.”

Both men seemed hesitant to leave the boss, but they nodded anyway.

“I’ll meet you in the garage,” he added. Still holding my hand, he used his other one to get his gun out. “We’ll be able to move and evade them if we’re not together.”

His argument ended there, giving him the last word. The panels slid shut, and as he pushed the button to go down, he glanced at me.

“It will be okay.”

I nodded, licking my lips and worrying whether this suspense and fear would be bad for the baby.

I was doing my best to get used to the violence, but still, I felt like such an outsider, a foreigner to his world of danger and death, of fighting and guns.

Anxiety was becoming too common, and as an expectant mother, I couldn’t convince myself that everything would be okay.

This wasn’t the kind of world I wanted my baby to be born into.

Always on the cusp of life-or-death concerns.

“I will protect you,” he added. Even though his words to me were ones of compassion and protectiveness, I didn’t miss the anger and tension that laced them. He was furious.

“Men are trespassing on our turf here, but we will get back home.”

I nodded again, too numb and mute to offer him anything else. I’d follow his lead. He’d proven to keep me safe before, and I wanted to rely on his doing so again.

But wouldn’t it be better to just be far away from all of this?

To raise this baby outside this cycle of never-ending violence?

Elevators weren’t supposed to bend time, but this ride was such an elongated blur that passed like an eternity of anxiousness and suspense.

But then before I could be ready to acknowledge it, we were there.

The car stopped at the lowest level, in the garage.

Sliding slowly, the doors parted to let us out.

I held my breath.

I didn’t let go of Luka’s hand gripping mine securely. He blocked me with his body, shielding me as the panels opened.

And still, I remained tense, unsure if men would be waiting out there to ambush us, guns at the ready to fire at us both and kill us.

This was the risk of being with a killer like Luka.

I had all faith that he’d take every step to protect me. His men were trained that well. They were that strong and quick. But I was the only one who knew about the new life inside me. I was the only one who could know to protect this baby.

“Luka?” I tugged on his hand, suddenly too nervous to exit the elevator without him knowing, without anyone aware of what we’d created in this forbidden passion we’d found.

“Just stay with me, Gabriella.” He glanced at me once, then focused on the garage coming into view as the elevator opened.

That’s just it, though.

If I stuck with him and stayed in his orbit, I’d be that much closer to danger. Always. He’d never change who he was. But I was being changed, from a thing he could own to a protective mother.

We stepped out, with me following behind him. I wished more Dubinin men were waiting right here to give me the impression of safety in numbers, but they were over by the car. Those two guards were still at the other side of the building, per Luka’s orders.

“Let’s go,” he told me as he dropped into a jog.

I ran with him, scanning the seemingly calm and empty garage. No one was here to stop us. It was just rows and rows of parked vehicles.

Once we rounded the line of the nearest lane of stationary cars and limos, two men approached.

At first glance, they appeared like those thugs at my audition.

Guns up. Faces scowling. Clothes tacky but clearly newly purchased.

Bling had never impressed me, but it seemed these guys didn’t follow that logic.

“Ah, and what do we have here?” one, a taller man with a severely receding hairline boasted. He sounded too jovial for someone aiming a gun at us. His smile was too fake, belying his true mood.

He cut us off with his buddy, raising his arms to let his gun twirl on his finger. It wasn’t a combative pose. But it wasn’t a move to suggest he was actually surrendering his intention to shoot or harm us.

I tucked back behind Luka as he stepped forward, blocking me again.

“Fuck off,” he snarled, not lowering his gun.

“Hey, hey, now, Mr. Dubinin,” the other, shorter man taunted with a smile that grew to match his buddy’s. “We just came here to collect.”

“Collect?” Luka scoffed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I tensed as they chuckled, glancing at each other.

“Come on. You know,” one replied cockily.

“No. I don’t. I don’t have anything that could belong to you. Or are all of you Rivera dumbasses too slow to make sense?” Luka lifted his gun higher, ready to fire.

“Easy, man. Easy.” The shorter one straightened his arm, aiming his gun back at us. “We’re just here to collect her.”

Me? My heart hammered against my ribcage at his words. It couldn’t be true!

“She’s mine,” Luka growled. “I don’t know or care why you’re confused about that fact, but she’s not going anywhere.”

The balding man sneered. “That ain’t how we were told to interpret it at the Rivera headquarters.” He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “According to Mr. Miguel Lopez, he’s reconsidered his business with you and is willing to sell her to us.”

I clutched the back of Luka’s jacket. Fear filled me. Rage fired me up. Locked in shock, though, I couldn’t even think straight.

“He didn’t sell her to me. I took her. She was given,” Luka argued. “She is mine .”

“Well, it sounds like he’s giving her to us,” the short man replied with a shrug.

“She’s not his to give,” Luka bit out.

Every word they said sliced at my heart. I wasn’t a thing. I wasn’t a product or item to negotiate like this! Alarmed by the fact that they’d barter with my life like this, I resisted the urge to sink into complete hatred for the man I was supposed to call my dad.

He gave me to Luka, and that had been a godsend.

But now he wanted to sell me? Again?

“She is mine,” Luka repeated. “I own her.”

His statement was bold and true, but the meaning behind it chilled me.

I wasn’t someone to him. I was something . Still, he would objectify me.

Scolding myself for ever trying to see him as a lover and duping myself into believing we were really together despite the tumultuous way we’d met, I had to remember that he was a criminal.

He was okay with owning lives. Taking them.

He’d captured me, and it was only some sick sense of fate that we’d bonded like we had.

“She is mine,” Luka declared.

“Yeah,” one mocked. “For now. But the terms have changed. We’re here to take her and that bastard in her belly.”

Oh, my God!

He’d announced my secret.

These Italian Mafia men knew I was pregnant!

Luka opened his mouth to reply, but right then, his car pulled up, intercepting us.

Ivan exited the backseat, opening the door and urging us to get in.

Another Dubinin got in and began firing at the Rivera men who ran away, darting behind parked cars.

I was desperate to know Luka’s reaction to what that man said, but right now—living in the damn present—I concentrated on following him into the backseat of his car and taking his offer of safety and security, no matter how short-lived it might turn out to be.