Page 30 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

LUKA

H er plump lower lip hung open as she gawked at me. “Married?”

Fuck, it wasn’t supposed to be so hot to see her mad like this. She wasn’t supposed to turn me on when she was furious and brave enough to fight back with that fire and sass that had never died out while she learned to submit to me.

“No. Not a chance in hell is that happening.” She shook her head, tossing her long, brown waves over her shoulder. “Oh, hell no . You’re not going to kidnap me, mess with my head, and then order us to get married.”

Want to bet?

Staring her down, I grew curious about when her willingness to argue with me would fade. And what would happen next.

Now that I could realize how scared she had to have been to realize she was expecting my child, I wondered what she thought could follow.

Her na?ve views of this world were so obvious.

She would assume that all men turned into killers and machines to do what I ordered.

And after how those Rivera men talked about her when they ambushed us at the resort’s parking garage, I couldn’t fault her for guessing that all women were traded and sold.

Arranged marriages were very much a thing, but in the Dubinin Family, I never meddled in those matters.

After my marriage ended with Maria’s death, I didn’t even take the time to think about anyone’s marriages. Then when Alexsei’s wife died, it reinforced my belief that lifelong commitments would always fail in the end. I had yet to witness a union that could stand the test of time for good.

It didn’t seem like Gabriella had much inspiration to believe in it either, because of how her mother died and how poorly Miguel had treated her as her father.

As I endured the heat of her glares, waiting her out about this topic of a marriage, I picked apart her argument in my mind.

She truly didn’t understand the blessing and rare privilege it would be to fall under my protection.

She was so sheltered and not from my world that she lacked the comprehension of how many others would kill to be in her position.

That to be the mother of my child, she had acquired the protection detail of a ruthless army.

She’d never have to fear someone raping her in her pathetic apartment. She wouldn’t have to be nervous about anyone successfully reaching her and shooting her.

My men would prevent that from happening.

I would stop that from occurring.

Protecting her was ingrained in my psyche now, and that would fall onto our child as well.

“I’m not marrying you,” she repeated, not softening at all. “I don’t need to feel more trapped and stuck here.”

“It’s funny that I haven’t heard you complain much yet.”

She glowered at me, sharpening the fierce anger in her eyes. As if she could bore me with the wrath of her laser-like stare.

“I hated to be trapped and stuck. I can’t stand the worry that as long as I’m here, I have no choice in anything. You’ve kept me here without a break. And I’ve overheard enough of the horrors that happen outside these walls to convince me that there will never be any peace if I stay.”

I shook my head slightly. I heard her, but it wasn’t enough to convince me to think otherwise. I wouldn’t budge. Maybe pushing the idea of marrying her was a rash and impulsive concept that could wait. Letting her stay as my mistress didn’t quite cut it.

“You will have no say in this. No possible means to change my mind.” I would lock down on this, on her, regardless of what she said. “And from this moment forward, I forbid you from even thinking about leaving.”

“Just because you knocked me up?” she exclaimed. “I don’t need you to help raise this baby. You’ve got Emil. You’ve got your army. Just let me have this child and enjoy having a real family for the first time in my life.”

“No.” Fuck no. “You will stay here. I will have Allen arrange for an appointment with a doctor to begin the checkups now.”

Leaving her with that final, last word, I turned and exited her room.

Distance felt both right and wrong where she was concerned. It was hot to see her so furious and mad. She had never looked so alive and full of fight like that.

But I needed a step back. Again. With her keeping my life interesting and never the same, I had to temper my fight, too.

If I used too much of a control on her, I just knew her spirit would diminish because I was in charge and I was the Alpha.

I didn’t want to crush her soul. I didn’t want to make her not fight back.

In the light of this pregnancy news, though, space was needed. We both would benefit from taking a breather.

I had to come to terms—on my own—about how I’d feel about being a father again.

She had to adjust to the reality that she would not be allowed to leave.

The first few days were the hardest.

She stuck to her room or the dance studio, and I steered clear.

The first couple of weeks were difficult.

I avoided initiating any contact with her, determined to wait her out and make her come crawling back to me. It was much like the beginning, when I gave her space until she gradually warmed up to me and couldn’t deny how much she wanted me in the end.

After the first month had passed, I wondered if this was the proverbial hill she’d choose to die on. Her submission seemed like a thing of the past.

“Maybe you’re giving her too much space?” Alexsei asked one night when I had dinner with him and Misha at their house.

I shook my head, rejecting that possibility. Pushing Gabriella to want to be near me again would do more harm than good. This was merely how to handle a headstrong and defiant woman. The wait would make her submission all the more sweeter.

“No, I’m not giving her too much space.”

Alexsei sighed, shrugging as he offered Misha another serving of the chicken he loved so much. Chicken nuggets, that was. I recalled when Emil was a fearless five-year-old testing his independence to insist on only eating one or two.

“How is she handling the pregnancy?” he asked.

I wasn’t giving her so much space that I was slacking in her care. Providing her with qualified and top-notch medical care, I was informed weekly of her vitals and how she was progressing.

“She’s got to be what, five months now?” He raised his brows.

Even though everyone was aware of the rift between me and Gabriella, they were interested and concerned about her anyway. A new heir to the Dubinin name was something to rejoice. Yet, her stubbornness about not trusting the Mafia lifestyle kept it complicated.

You will submit to me, Gabriella.

I needed her too. These past couple of months without her present and in my bed felt long and hard.

Missing her wasn’t something I wanted to prolong.

Allen claimed that I was acting more stubborn than she was, and I ignored him for a day.

Emil seemed to be on her side as well, telling me this morning that maybe I was being too hard of an asshole with her, not bending on how she wasn’t used to the family structure we operated with.

“The baby is healthy. So is she.” That was the most clinical, emotionless way I could sum it up.

“Is she still dancing?”

I sighed, hating that I’d reverted to the old habit of watching her in the surveillance feed.

Instead of approaching the studio and watching her in person like I’d enjoyed previously, I was reduced to watching her from afar.

In that way, I wasn’t actually avoiding her.

I was still keeping an eye on her and involved as a spectator.

It wasn’t the same, but it was better than driving myself insane wanting to be with her like we were before.

“Yes. For now, she is.” It was only a matter of time before her belly would be too big for her to pull off most of her moves. She was nearing the end of her second semester, six months along, not five like Alexsei had guessed.

Viewing her on the surveillance feed from the dance studio was a paltry replacement for seeing her in person.

But the remote view I had of her showed me how gorgeous she was with her belly swelling.

It put another factor to how artistic she was as she danced and moved through the air.

Art, but with the addition of the signs of pending motherhood on her figure to give her more of a glow.

When she reached her seventh month, this cold treatment between us gnawed at me. I couldn’t take it, but I was just as stubborn, giving her distance until she’d cave and come to me.

Thanks to Emil’s interference one night, when he tricked us into being in the dining room at the same time, the impasse was over.

She furrowed her brow at the sight of me entering the room. Pausing in pulling out a chair to sit for dinner, she looked me up and down with derision.

I sighed, shooting my son a glare.

“And there you have it,” Emil quipped sarcastically. He clapped his hands once and backed up. “I told Ivan I could pull it off. Enjoy dinner, you stubborn fools.” As he exited, he tugged the double doors closed to keep me and her in here.

“Funny,” she replied blandly.

“Hilarious,” I stated.

“Did you put him up to that, getting me in the room to have to suffer your presence?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No. I wouldn’t go to the bother,” I lied.

Seeing her up close and actually speaking to her felt like being born again. Like I was reliving the glorious thrill of her attention. Fuck, these past months were hard. I was desperate for her, but I was more desperate to hide how much I loved her.

“I see that the doctor has been updating you on the pregnancy.” She rested her hands on her belly, clasping them so her arms bracketed her bump.

“Of course.” I was in charge of everything in this house, in my world. She, and our child, were no exception.

“Which proves my point all along.”

I arched one brow. “You have been too stubborn to enlighten me with your opinions or supposed points lately.”

“Because you’ve demonstrated that what I want and my feelings don’t matter.”

What a spoiled, foolish woman. How could she not see that I gave her all this because I did care and because she mattered so much?

“This proves my point that you care only about this baby while not giving a damn about me.”

That’s not true. At all.

Yet, I couldn’t be the first to cave. If this was the first fight we’d have as anything like a couple, I would not be the one to lose.

I didn’t deny it. Instead, I flamed the fires of her hatred for me a little more. Maybe she needed to be angrier at me to snap and break at last. “Well, you have more worth now, giving me an heir.”

She slitted her eyes, incensed as soon as I was finished speaking. Fury lit up her face, but with how tightly she clamped her lips together, she wasn’t going to crack now.

I didn’t mean a single word of what I’d said, but it was so much easier to fight with her than to give her the truth.

The reality of this situation was that I was lost without her.

I missed her and yearned for her. I was desperate to the marrow of my bones to be near her again, to kiss and hold and touch her once more.

But that was riskier to explain. Simply put, I didn’t know how to love someone without destroying them.

Maria had died because of her association with me and how I’d loosely trusted her to know how to defend herself as a born and raised Mafia woman, used to violence and threats.

Emil had turned into a cold-hearted killer because he was my son and I’d encouraged him to work for the family.

No matter who it was, I would destroy them if I admitted affection and that I treasured them.

Feelings and sappy shit just didn’t belong in my existence.

But when Gabriella shook her head before spinning on her heel to stride out of the room, I couldn’t help but feel dejected. Despair claimed me as she walked away.