Page 55 of The Mafia Bloodline
Chapter 18
Two months.
Two months since I’d told Volken I was pregnant, and two months since my life had become a full-time war between gratitude and absolute madness.
Because Volken Dragic had officially lost his mind. I couldn’t walk across the damn room without him or Colt shadowing me. Going outside required a security detail. A walk meant four armed men, two changelings, and Volken glowering like I was trying to start a war.
If I so much as mentioned wanting to go into town, he’d look at me like I’d suggested skydiving off a volcano.
“You’re carrying my child, Runa. Our child. You don’t get to breathe without me knowing who else is inhaling the same air,” he’d said once, half-serious, half-possessive, and entirely exasperating.
At first, it had been endearing, the hovering, the way he’d constantly check if I’d eaten or slept, the way his hands would wander protectively to my stomach even in sleep. But now?
Now it was infuriating, and under all that love and protectiveness, there was something else. Something darker.
A lie.
I could feel it through the bond. A shadow in his mind, something he kept locked tight whenever I brushed up againsthis thoughts. The harder I tried to touch it, the more he shut me out.
Every time I’d ask what was wrong, he’d give me that same careful, infuriatingly calm smile.
“Nothing, little one. Everything’s fine.”
Except it wasn’t, and my mind, being the overthinking mess that it was, started whispering the one thing I didn’t want to believe.
Maybe he wasn’t lying to protect me. Maybe he was lying because of someone else.
The thought made my stomach twist in ways that had nothing to do with morning sickness. I’d never seen Volken look twice at another woman, but lately, he’d been gone longer, coming home smelling of blood and smoke. And when I’d ask, he’d just brush a kiss to my forehead and tell me to sleep.
So naturally, I did the worst possible thing. I told Layla.
We were in the kitchen, the late afternoon sun slanting through the big mansion windows. Layla was feeding Aleksander while Sorcha sat nearby with little Suraya on her lap. The sight should have calmed me, two women who’d walked through hell now cooing over their children, domestic and content. But instead, I blurted it out like a bomb.
“I think Volken’s cheating.” Layla froze mid-spoonful. Sorcha blinked. Then both women burst out laughing.
“Sweetheart,” Layla said between giggles, “do you know who you’re mated to?”
I crossed my arms, scowling. “Yes, a six-foot-four overprotective vampire with control issues.”
“Exactly,” Sorcha said, smirking. “Which means he’s also a one-woman man. All the Dragic men are. The bond doesn’t allow for cheating not physically, not emotionally. You’d feel it the moment it happened. Trust me, if he so much as looked at someone else, your instincts would have him staked before he could blink.”
Layla chuckled softly, reaching across to touch my hand. “They love hard, Runa. Almost too hard. If Volken’s hiding something, it isn’t another woman. It’s something he thinks will hurt you.”
Her words lingered long after I left them.
But later that night, when Volken finally walked in, blood still drying on his collar and exhaustion in his eyes, I couldn’t help myself. I snapped.
He’d just closed the bedroom door behind him when I said it.
“Are you cheating on me?” The silence that followed could’ve frozen fire.
Volken turned slowly, his blue eyes sharp and unreadable. “What did you just say?”
I stood my ground, even though my knees felt weak. “You’ve been gone more, you’ve been hiding something, and every time I ask you what’s wrong, you lie to me.”
He blinked once, slowly, like a predator processing whether to pounce or laugh. “You think I’d cheat on you?”
“You tell me.”
