by Bella King
I believe in right and wrong, good and evil, God, and Satan. I believe that the Volkov family name represents unity, grace, and peace. I believe that we’ve come too far for generations of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears to be thrown out because of one person who got too big for their boots.
It’s time to end this.
I grip my gun so tight that the skin on my knuckles in on the verge of splitting. I have one chance to get this right. Russia depends on me, whether they know it or not. It’s my responsibility to end the senseless violence that has plagued the city in the past few months. This is it.
I spring up from behind the car, jabbing my gun out toward Anastasia. She’s standing next to the outer gate of the warehouse, with two guards on either side of her. The look on her face tells me that she wasn’t expecting me to confront her like this.
Everything feels like slow motion. My finger squeezes the cold metal trigger, but I hardly have time to aim. All I can do is watch as the guns turn to me as I fire at Anastasia. As long as I get her, my life won’t have been wasted.
I’m sorry, Elaine, but this is the life I chose. This is how it must be. Forgive me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elaine
“Nikolai almost got himself killed this morning,” Alek announces, walking into my room and waking me from my deep slumber.
I’m certain it’s a dream. Nikolai is right here in bed with me. We shared the most wonderful night together, and he told me that he would stay with me. He couldn’t have left again.
I pat the bed, feeling for Nikolai’s sturdy body beside me, but my fingertips find nothing but the wrinkled sheets of a slept-in bed. My eyes up, and I sit up, looking around as I come back to reality.
“I thought you might be awake by now,” Alek says, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, looking a bit guilty.
“What’s going on?” I ask, pulling the sheets up to my breasts as I remember that I’m not wearing clothes.
“Nikolai decided it was a good idea to leave headquarters without telling anyone,” Alek explains. “The result of that was a very close experience with death. The motherfucker made me fly out to pick him up from the side of the road at five in the morning.”
“What?” I exclaim, jumping out of bed with the sheets still clutched to my bosom. “Is he okay?”
Alek shrugs. “He took a few bullets, but nowhere vital. He’s in the hospital with a private doctor currently.”
“He got shot?” I ask, starting to panic. That idiot doesn’t know when to stop his suicidal rampaging through town. I told him to be more careful.
I furiously rip through draws, throwing on whatever clothing I can find so that I can leave to go to the hospital to see him. “Drive me there,” I snap at Alek as I barge out the bedroom door.
“Yes, your highness,” Alek replies sarcastically. “He might be sleeping, though. He had a rough morning.”
“It’s about to get a lot rougher for him,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.
I remain silent on the drive to the hospital as Alek attempts to ease my temper. He explains how Nikolai has done a very brave thing, and that he’s helped restore some peace to the bratva, but all I can think about is how stupid he is to get himself shot while I’m pregnant.
Of course, he doesn’t know that, but at this point, I better tell him. I’m terrified that he’ll continue to do dangerous things if he doesn’t know about it. At least this way I’ll know what his true values are. If he stops dancing in front of the enemies’ guns once he knows that he’s going to be a father, then I think we can find a way to make this work out. If not, then I’m going home and staying there.
The hospital is a small unit that doesn’t even look like a real hospital. Since it’s private, it doesn’t need to look like a regular unit, but honestly, it looks more like a spa than somewhere you would take a man who’s just been shot.
“We’re here to see Nikolai Volkov,” Alek says, smiling at the receptionist.
“Could I get your full names and purpose for your visit today?” the receptionist asks politely.
I can’t contain my frustration any longer. I just want to see Nikolai and make sure that he’s okay. I lean over the desk, looking the thirty-something-year-old man in his beady eyes. “Which room his he in?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the receptionist begins to say, but Alek cuts him off.
“Three-hundred and ninety-four,” Alek says, then turns back to the receptionist.
I rush off without him, flying down the pristine hallways past the elevator. The stairs will be faster than waiting for the elevator to roll up three floors. I’d probably strangle anyone who stopped it on its way up.
I take the steps by threes, using the pale green railing to yank myself up faster. All I can see is Nikolai’s thousand-yard stare burning into my mind, slowly fading as he passes away without me.
I shake the nightmarish thoughts from my head and use my shoulder to push through the door into the hallway on the third floor. I get some odd looks from the doctors and patients in the hall, but I ignore them. I’m sure they’ve seen a woman panic before.
My heart thumps a thousand times a second as my feet carry me to room three-hundred and ninety-four. I don’t know what to expect when I get there, but I try not to think about it. All I want to do is to see Nikolai alive and conscious. Alek said he had survived, but what condition is he in?
I come to a stop in front of the pale green door that separates me from Nikolai. The air feels foreign in my lungs, and there’s a lump stuck high in my throat. I place my hand on the door handle and turn it, pushing the door open with my breath held.
“Nikolai?” I whisper as I enter the room.
I get no answer.
“Nikolai,” I say, louder this time.
“Elaine?” I hear a voice croak from a white hospital bed in the center of the small room.
“Nikolai.” I walk toward the bed, a hand over my mouth as I see his pale face. “Fucking hell, Nikolai. Why did you do this?”
“Do what? Save Russia?” he says, a smirk on his face. He looks like someone drained half the blood in his body.
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s the bratva life,” he says with a weak chuckle.
I place my hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin. I was afraid that it would feel cold, but he’s fine. He still has his cocky sense of humor, thinking he’s the center of the universe.
“I did it, Elaine. Things are going to get better from now on. The Fedorov mafia doesn’t have a leader anymore,” Nikolai explains from the bed, raising his head to look at me.
My eyes meet his, and I know it’s time to tell him. I take a deep breath. “Nikolai, I know this is a little crazy, but there’s something I have to tell you. I can’t have you running around the country getting yourself killed.”
“But I’m still alive,” he replies.
I roll my eyes. “You need to stay that way for me,” I say, taking his hand and placing it on my belly. “And for our baby.”
He looks confused for a moment, and then his eyes light up, color and life rushing back into his face. “You’re pregnant?” he jerks his head up, nearly pulling out the tubes that are attached to his other arm.
“Lay down,” I say, pressing my hand against his chest.
He winces and falls back onto the pillow. “But you’re pregnant,” he says, excitement in his deep voice.
I smile at him, knowing that even with how crazy and strange the mafia is, I’ve chosen the best man to be with. His excitement, even in his current state, tells volumes about his character.
“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours,” I say, smiling through tears. I bite my lip. “I love you, Nikolai.”
“I love you too, Elaine. Let’s do this… together.”
The End.
More Mafia Books by Bella King
Mafia Baby: A Secret Baby Captive Mafia Romance
I’m pregnant, and I’m certain it�
��s his.
The only problem is, I don’t know who he is.
The only thing I have is a name, a pair of dazzling green eyes, and an irresistibly handsome face.
I never expected it to lead me to the Russian mafia.
Being captured and held captive by a bratva boss isn’t easy.
Especially when he’s used to getting everything he wants.
But he doesn’t know that we have a deeper connection.
He doesn’t know the truth.
He doesn’t know that he’s the one who knocked me up.
The mafia life is brutal and ruthless.
Bad boys come out on top, and women like me fall for them.
This wasn’t the life I had in mind, but it was the one that chose me.
Now, I had to rise to the danger, or be swept away by it.
Mafia Baby is a dark and twisted secret baby Russian mafia romance with lustful scenes, action-packed sequences, and a writing style that will keep you turning the page.
Read Mafia Baby Now…
* * *
Mafia Bride: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance
Viktor
There’s only one reason I’m marrying her, and it’s not because of her irresistible hips and pouty lips, although those are a plus.
I need her, and I will do anything to make sure I get her.
And she better behave.
I’m sick of women acting up. She should know her place the second she arrives.
Cora
I’m destined to marry a man I’ve never met.
He claims to be a politician, but I doubt it.
Politicians aren’t 250 pounds of pure muscle, with a thick Russian accent and a face so handsome that it would have me forgive even the greatest of sins.
I know that he’s up to something, but arrangements are final.
There’s no turning back from fate, no matter how cruel it can be.
Mafia Bride is a Standalone Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance
Read Mafia Bride Now…
* * *
The Secret Vow
“You really know how to treat a lady, don’t you?” I say, my voice oozing with sarcasm and disdain.
Rurik Petrov rests his chin on his large fist, his blue eyes studying me as I remove my dress in front of him. His fingers are decorated in jewelry, a blue sapphire glinting in the light from his middle finger. It matches his eyes perfectly.
He leans forward in the old wooden chair, and his voice rumbles from deep in his chest - commanding, dominant, and firm. “The panties too.”
I push my thumbs into the waistband of my red lace panties, glaring at him. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes,” he replies, keeping his words short and impactful. He has been like that the entire time I’ve had the misfortune of being around him.
“Don’t look,” I say, trying to rescue what little dignity I have left since meeting Rurik. I still don’t know who he is or why he has taken me from my home, but I’m not about to let myself be bullied by him. My father taught me better than that.
A smile flickers across Rurik’s serious mouth as he unfolds his fingers from the fist under his chin and raises them to his eyes, shading them from the view of my body. His rings glimmer under the yellow lights of the old room as my panties hit the wool rug that I’m standing on.
I’m naked in front of a man I just met today, wondering how the hell I managed to get mixed up in this mess. Rurik says he’s here to help me, but I doubt it. From his thick Russian accent and his Italian leather shoes, I gather he’s not from the United States. What he wants with a woman like me, though, is beyond my knowledge.
“Put the robe on,” Rurik says, his large hand still covering his eyes.
Beside me, laid out neatly on the small bed, is a light-pink silk robe with the letter S embroidered above the right breast. A forked tongue protrudes from the letter, making it look like a serpent.
I snatch the robe from the bed and quickly pull it over my shoulders, wrapping the belt tight around my waist and tying it in place. The fabric is so thin that the outlines of my nipples are showing, but it’s miles better than being naked.
“I hope you understand,” Rurik says as he lowers his hand from his face. “I’m not doing this to humiliate you.”
“Then why are you doing this?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest and frowning.
“You’re starting fresh today,” he replies, rising from his chair to his full height of over six feet. “You are no longer Samantha Brown. Your real name is Violet Sommer, and you’re coming with me now.”
Everything he tells me only makes me more confused. My name isn’t Violet, and I don’t want to go with him. I want to return home and continue my normal life by myself. I’m afraid of what Rurik has in store for me.
“When you step out of this door,” Rurik says, calmly waving a hand toward the dense wooden door with an aggressive triple bolt lock holding it shut, “You will have to obey everything I say. Should you step out of line, well,” he pauses, rubbing a hand across his sharp jawline, “You won’t want to do that. Your life now depends on how well you can follow instructions.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” I demand, planting my feet firmly on the ground and tightening my arms over my chest.
“All in good time,” he replies. He pulls a small black phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He dials a number and presses the phone to his ear, flashing a quick smile to me before the call is accepted.
I glare at him, holding my ground as he begins to speak in Russian. His conversation is short, consisting of only a single sentence on his end, but it gets the point across. He snaps the phone closed as the heavy bolts on the door slide open.
“It’s time to go,” he says, holding out his hand for me to take.
I shake my head aggressively, my auburn curls bouncing across my face and sticking to my lips. There is a horrid feeling in my gut, like a hot stone sinking deep inside of me, and I’m trembling despite my best effort to steady myself. I want to appear strong.
Rurik steps forward, placing a huge hand on my shoulder. His grip is like ice and fire at the same time, and I can feel it all the way down to my bone. He looks at me with his pale blue eyes and says, “Violet, you either come with me, or you end up like your father.”
I jerk my body, attempting to free myself from his grip, but I flail useless, unable to break free. “You don’t know anything about my father,” I say with a hiss. “And my name isn’t Violet.”
His gaze softens, and a smile creeps into his solemn face. “I knew him quite well, actually. He was a fighter, just like you are, but even fighters can make mistakes. I’m not going to let that happen to you. You’re coming with me.”
I dig my feet into the carpet, anticipating Rurik’s attempt to move me to the door, but even in doing so, I am unable to stop him. He picks me up like I weigh nothing and throws me over his shoulder, one large hand covering the backs of both my thighs as he hauls me out of the room. I pound his broad back and thrash my legs, but he ignores me as he carries me out.
Read The Secret Vow Now…
* * *
Sinner’s Saint
God, no. Not like this.
My heart thumped in my chest as I ran down the block, six pairs of feet clambering down the pavement after me. I was sorely outnumbered, and I doubted that I could outrun them all. My only hope at this point was to run into someone else on these dark streets, but who else would be out at this hour?
Why the hell was I out at this hour? I knew the answer. It was because I took risks. I refused to conform to the life that my parents had wanted for me, and this was the result – running through the slums at midnight, weaving through grimy nooks and allies in hopes to outmaneuver my attackers.
I was the perfect bait for them, and that was unfortunate. Blonde hair topped a nearly perfect face, set on a pair of slim shoulders that led to moderately large breasts and a narrow waist. I was tall enough to be a model, but
that wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be an actress.
Auditions shouldn’t be this late at night.
My lungs hurt as I took in desperate lungfuls of the humid night air. Down in Florida, the nights were always warm and wet, something these men were probably after. I couldn’t let this happen to me. I wasn’t a victim.
Thank god I wore flats instead of heels. The producer said it would be an active audition, and lord, was it ever. I was flying down the streets of South Florida like I was going for a marathon record. I wouldn’t be winning any medals for this, only my life.
I knew better than to let thugs get close to me. I had taken off the minute they came into view. It wasn’t worth it to stay calm in a situation where your gut begged you to bolt. I had learned to listen to my instincts and get the hell out if the situation felt wrong. This wasn’t the first time I had to run for my life.
A shoe fell off my left foot, but I kept going. These flat could never stay put, but I couldn’t wear sneakers to an audition. It wasn’t a good look, and I was desperate to get a role. That’s why I had agreed to come out all this way when I knew damn well it was dangerous at night. I let my drive get the better of me again.
My foot stung as it slapped against the rough asphalt. I was tempted to dip down through an ally, but that could spell trouble for me if it didn’t break out into a neighboring street. Nobody would see me or hear my muffled cries in an ally. No, my best bet was to stay on the main street and hope someone else was out there.
But it was empty. The whole city was empty at this time of night. Everyone but me knew better than to wander around south Florida at this hour. Alligators were the least of my worries. It was the men who were the true monsters.