Page 31 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

I left the dining room as fast as I could, too furious to see what was in front of me. Red-hot rage filled my vision.

“Whoa.”

I collided with Emil. He caught me from falling, but once I was steady on my feet again, I pushed past him.

“Hey. Wait. What the fuck?” He hurried after me as I headed toward the studio.

It was the only place I could try to find some remnant of peace. Dance was still in my blood. It was still my passion. As this baby grew in my belly, though, the upcoming prospect of being a mother became a bigger passion and goal.

Just this morning, I gave up. I had to quit and call it a defeat. Being pregnant wasn’t for the fainthearted. It wasn’t for ballerinas, either. Between my swollen feet and the sciatic nerve pain that increased with lightning crotch as my belly got bigger and bigger, I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I wasn’t throwing the towel in forever. I couldn’t.

I would lose my mind if I never danced again.

But for now, I was smart enough to know I was setting myself up for the risk of an injury to continue with my sport like this.

The very last thing I ever wanted to do was harm this precious life inside me.

Although I couldn’t dance in the studio where no one came to bother me, I could sit there and gaze out the windows at the cityscape below. Like a caged animal or a bird with clipped wings, I could look out at the freedom that would never be mine.

I wasn’t stupid enough to try to run away. I wouldn’t get free healthcare for my baby if I did. But deep down, I refused to budge from the conviction that this baby would not be a Mafia child.

“Hey!” Emil chased after me, following me all the way to the studio. “What the fuck, Gabby?”

He was the only one who had started to call me that on a routine basis. And I hated it. I figured that was precisely why he shortened my name like that, like a brother taunting a sister. But no, I was carrying his brother or sister even though I was younger than him.

“No.” I whirled on him as I reached the studio. “That’s what I should be asking you.” I jabbed my finger at his chest. “What the fuck was that for, tricking us to get us in the same room?”

He rolled his eyes, unbothered by my attitude.

“It’s getting old, that’s what the fuck it’s about.

We’re sick of him acting like he’s miserable missing you.

We’re all fed up with you acting like a quiet ticking bomb of wild pregnant woman hormones and emotions, like any little thing could make you lash out because you miss him.

” He flung his arms up. “You live together.”

“No.” I pointed at him. “I’m a guest. A thing. I’m trapped and locked up here.”

He crossed his arms, smirking at me. “I don’t see you suffering.”

But I was. I was just good at masking it. It broke my heart a little more every day that Luka stayed away from me. Yes, we’d had an epic fight about my hiding the pregnancy. That was months ago, though. This baby would be here soon, and he hadn’t done a single thing to alleviate my concerns.

“I’m not going to argue with you.” I turned down the dial on my anger and gave him my back. Staring out at the cityscape didn’t feel as soothing as I wished it would.

“Then don’t,” he replied coolly, coming to stand next to me, looking out the wall of windows. “But seriously, what the fuck, Gabby? You both were so good together, and now it’s like you can’t stand him.”

I heaved in a deep breath. “I can’t stand how he views me. He just told me that I have more worth since I gave him an heir.”

“Well, that’s true.” He shrugged. “Another heir is an investment in the future of the family.”

I hung my head briefly and groaned. “I’m having a baby , not a token of an investment.

” Before he could argue any further, I held my hand up, too numb to care about anything anymore.

That didn’t mean I’d give up with this fight, but I was just so tired of it all.

My life was a huge mess, one that hadn’t gotten messy from anything of my doing.

Because I existed, because I was Miguel Lopez’s daughter and he was stupid enough to be a traitor to Luka Dubinin, I was in this mess.

“I’m so sick of feeling trapped. I was used.” And more than anything, I hated how I was starting to fully see that Luka had never cared about me. It was all lies.

“He didn’t use you. For fuck’s sake…” He shook his head.

“My father was just saying that to piss you off. Trust me. It’s his style.

He respects how strong you are, how long it took for you to cave to him.

He wanted to crack you for so long, and he admired your tenacity.

If I know him, and I think I’m one of the few who can claim to really know him, he’s goading you and saying shit like that to make you mad.

” He locked his bored and smug gaze on me.

“To piss you off even more to make you snap.”

“I’m not buying it.”

“Hey, I’m just telling it like it is. I never thought I’d meet someone as stubborn as him, but here you are.

He’s determined to dig his feet in just as much as you are.

He’s keeping up this distance because he wants you to be the first to apologize.

He’s a proud man. A powerful leader. So don’t assume he’ll bow to you . Or anyone.”

“No.” I shook my head, sad that what he was saying couldn’t be true. “You’re wrong. He sees me as a possession to set aside while I carry his child. A person he’s determined to view only as a thing to use.”

“Like me?”

I stopped short, staring ahead.

“You realize that all your bullshit excuses about being scared?—”

“I’m not making excuses! And if I did, they wouldn’t be bullshit.”

“Fine. Your stupid-as-fuck reasons to be scared about this situation.” He scoffed. “You’ve got it all wrong. What, you’re afraid that if you have a son, he’ll turn into a killing machine like me?”

He had me there. I watched him, unafraid now. He was still on my shit list, but it wasn’t like he could re-kidnap me for his father.

“You worry about having a boy because what, he’ll turn into a robotic monster? Like me? Every concern you have is basically an insult against me.”

“So?” I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t like you.”

“And I’m not nuts about putting up with you, either.

” He stepped into my view, blocking the cityscape as the nightlife kicked in down below.

“But I see how much my father enjoys you in his life. For that matter, I’ll tolerate you.

That’s how I can call your bluff about your worries.

I am also Luka’s son. I’m his heir. And look, I’ve turned out all right. ”

I gave him a droll stare. “That depends on who you’re asking.”

“Oh, get over it.”

“Get over your kidnapping me?”

“Hey, you wouldn’t have met my father if I hadn’t. You wouldn’t have this baby in you.”

I refused to admit he had good points. But the end wasn’t justifying the means in my book.

“I kill. I hunt down targets. No, I haven’t been a fucking angel, but you know what else? I love my family. I fight for my family. In doing that, I am working for the greater good—just one that’s not ordained and acceptable per the commoners in society.”

I looked away before facing him again. I wasn’t going to spend the night rethinking my opinions about good versus bad. I had opened my eyes—a lot—since being here.

“And if she’s a daughter? She’ll be sent to some man like a thing to possess?”

He shook his head. “If this is a baby girl, he’ll be over the fucking moon to have a princess in his life.

Like the sister I never met when my mother was killed.

” He sighed, frowning at me. “But you are supposed to be his queen. In case you can’t get it through your thick skull, he wants you at his side again. Not as a thing, but as his partner.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I replied, giving up on this conversation to walk away.

Lingering to talk to him wasn’t happening. He was poking and prying too close to the truth.

That maybe, just maybe, I had it all right.

That Luka might have room in his heart for me after all.

I’ll be damned if I have to ask.

He can show me if I matter.

I refused to seek him out and be the one to grovel for even a single second.