Unprotected with the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Alekseiev Bratva) by Fox, Nicole (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📗

The warehouse or Ally’s apartment. My business or Ally, who could never understand how much danger she’s in. The kingdom I’ve poured sweat and other people’s blood into for the last five years or a woman who will never give me the benefit of the doubt.

I yank on the steering wheel, letting the back of the car fishtail.

* * *

I text Ilya to go to the warehouse as I step up to Ally’s door. I knock. As I’m about to knock again, she opens the door.

Her eyes, slightly red-rimmed, regard me warily. Drops of water cling to her temples like she just splashed water on her face.

“I’m coming in,” I tell her. I slide in past her, our arms bumping against each other. I walk around the apartment, checking for Julia, but she’s not inside.

“Lev, you can’t just barge in,” she says. She sounds tired and even as she gestures around the apartment, her movements are lethargic.

I ignore her, walking toward the window that faces the parking lot. I drove around, checking for anyone suspicious, and checked in with Petrov, but anxiety drills into my chest. I’ve tried to shake the fear, but if Ally was hurt because of the Bratva’s actions, it would be another burden I can’t fathom carrying.

I turn toward her. She’s watching me, her arms crossed over her abdomen, and she seems lost in thought.

“You need to come back to the mansion,” I say. “It’s for your safety.”

“I can’t right now,” she says, looking away from me.

“I know you’re upset because you think your father almost died, but he didn’t. You need to prioritize your own safety now and not focus on some worst-case scenario that didn’t happen.”

She whips around, fire suddenly in her dark eyes. “God, you are the champion of assholes. It must be difficult to be that self-absorbed. I’m not prioritizing my father right now. I’m prioritizing—I’m figuring something out and I can’t do that when you’re around, messing with my emotions.”

“Your emotions aren’t a priority right now either,” I say. “Your safety is the priority. You need to get over what you’re feeling and just come with me. I’m not fucking around.”

Her arms tighten around her abdomen. “I’m usually very responsible. I do everything by the book. I never forget things. But you came into my life and everything turned into a mess.”

“Yes, I get it. I’m terrible. I’m the worst person on earth. Let’s go.” I grab her arm. She looks down at my hand, then back at my face.

“I was going to take my birth control pills last night,” she says. “I realized I was two days behind. I missed the night of the gala and the night before.”

The images clash in my mind. The pills. Sex in the den the night of the gala. The lack of a condom.

“You should have told me,” I say.

“I didn’t realize it,” she says. “I didn’t know.”

Pregnant. I reel with the realization, trying to absorb it and failing completely. Later on, I’ll have to cope with the fact that Allison is pregnant with my child. Her child. Our child. My heir. But right now, I have to focus on the present circumstances. And those circumstances are that Ally is now more in danger than ever, as am I.

Karma is a mean bitch and she’s coming back to bite me. Since I took Marco’s father, it only makes sense that Marco is going to try to hurt me in the same way—except I killed my father, so Marco can’t do that. The closest Marco could get is killing my fiancée or my child and it’s looking like, while he’s at his most wrathful, he can kill them both in one shot.

It’s some Old Testament bullshit. I’ve worked too hard to build myself up to be taken down so easily. I’ve taken the ashes that my father left behind, turned them into gold, and a single woman is going to destroy everything because I was foolish enough to allow her into my life outside of the bedroom.

“How could you forget to take your pills?” I ask. “If I thought you were going to be that irresponsible, I would have done something about it.”

“I forgot. I’m usually responsible but after we met—”

“Don’t blame this on me,” I snarl. “You did this on purpose. You wanted to trap me.”

Her cheeks flush. Tears threaten to fall from her eyes. It almost makes me regret my words. Almost.

“You’re the one who wanted to marry me,” she retorts. “You’re the one who trapped me. I didn’t need to do anything.”

I turn away from her as I slam my fist into her kitchen counter. I hear something crack underneath my knuckles, but I don’t check it. I know this is my fear manifesting as rage, but it doesn’t change the racing thoughts and the evolving anger.

It looks like I have become my father after all. Much as I want to force her to come with me to the mansion, I can’t bring myself to do it. That alone tells me I’m in too deep—the fact that I’m thinking twice about exerting control.

“Stay away from the windows,” I order. “I’ll keep some men on the building.”

I leave the apartment, an ache in my hand and a river of fear in my chest. I swallow to keep it down. I know it’s too massive to ignore, but I’ll keep forcing that fear down.

I have to tame it …

Before it can drown me.

18

Allison

Shortly after I realized I’d missed two of my birth control pills, Elizabeth called, offering to let me sit in on another criminal case. I agreed, my mind too numb to consider saying no. Now that I’m sitting behind her again, everything reminds me of pregnancy, of Lev’s accusations, of Jeffrey Douglas.

“Mr. Carlson,” the defense lawyer, Matthew Davis, says as he strides to the witness box. “Your PTSD diagnosis makes it difficult for