Russian Killer's Baby Read Online Free Page A

quick before running off to class. Then her father had shown up and derailed her carefully balanced schedule.
    “Yes. You’re my father. But I sometimes think that was a calculated move on your part.”
    “How so?” He looked affronted.
    She eyed his rail thin appearance and sallow face. Her father often did not appear well, but how could the man be robust when he was constantly running from the authorities and Boston’s Russian mafia?
    She turned the stove on and watched the burner flare to life. “You married my American born mother in Moscow just so you could come to the states.”
    “Your mother died in Russia! I never came here with her.”
    “No. You came with me. Once I was born there was no way the U.S. government could throw you out of their country,” she said bitterly.
    He put his palm over his heart. “You wound me with your suspicion.”
    “Really? Because I’d bet good money I don’t have that you’re here because you want something from me.”
    “I need a message delivered to the FBI.” His tone was so beseeching that there were practically tears dripping off of it.
    “Ha!” She cracked an egg into the pan and listened to it sizzle. “So you can’t deliver this missive yourself because you’re wanted by the Feds. Right?”
    “This is a message that will clear up a little misunderstanding.”
    The scent of the cooking egg suddenly turned sour in Annika’s nose. She gagged. Her stomach revolted, and she put her hand hastily over her mouth.
    Vadir’s manner turned businesslike. “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m going to be sick!”
    She pushed past her father and ran to the bathroom. She made it to the toilet just in time. Gripping the porcelain’s edges, she vomited until there was nothing left to come up.
    Groping for the handle, she flushed the contents of the toilet and sank to the floor in a heap. As with the last week and a half, she felt better after the brief bouts of violent sickness, though she was still overtired all the time and felt just slightly off.
    “Are you all right?” Her father leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.
    “Fine.” She gave him a dirty look. “I’m pretty sure all of this illegal running around you want me to do is making me sick.”
    He snorted, choosing to speak in Russian instead of English. “And I’m certain I recall what a woman looks and acts like when she’s in the family way.”
    Annika froze. Could the crazy old man be right? She hadn’t even considered such a possibility until he’d mentioned it. Her brain immediately began scanning backwards to search for the last time she’d had her monthly cycle.
    “Your expression says it’s a possibility,” he mused. “Who is it that I’ll have to murder for touching my daughter?”
    “You don’t get to murder anyone. I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices.”
    “Obviously,” he drawled. “But you need to get your ass up off the floor and take my message down to the FBI. Then you can deal with your own problems.”
    She struggled to get to her feet, feeling faint and yet angrier than she could remember being in a long time. “I’m in the middle of dealing with personal issues, and you’re still more worried about getting my help with your stupid FBI problems!” She shoved her way past him. “Get out of my apartment and don’t come back. Seriously. I’m so sick of you using me for your shady business dealings. I’m done being your pawn.”
    Vadir’s gaze narrowed, and Annika could feel the heat of his anger sizzling over her skin as though it were a physical thing. She didn’t care. She was tired of being part of his illegal dealings. He’d been using her as an accessory to his crimes since she was old enough to smile and look cute. She no longer cared about alienating her father. She wanted her life back.
    He stalked toward the front door, glancing at her stove. “Your egg is burning.”
    “So why didn’t you do something about it?” She dashed over and