Page 103 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Nikolai lets out a low chuckle, his cold eyes glinting. “Have it your way. Just don’t get yourself killed, Igor. Katya would make sure I never hear the end of it.”

I flash him a grin that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Raising my gun, I nod to Konstantin. “Let’s move.”

Our team peels off while Nikolai, Vasiliy, and Ivan head toward their positions. My goal is simple: destroy anyone who gets in my way. Maksim Olenko is mine. The rest are disposable.

We reach the warehouse door, and Konstantin gives the handle a quick jiggle. Locked.

I don’t waste time. My boot slams into the metal, and the door splinters open with a satisfying crack. I raise my gun and fire at the first movement—a man diving for cover. He drops.

It’s chaos after that. Men scatter like roaches, scrambling for guns and cover. The echo of gunfire bounces off the walls as Maksim’s crew fights back, but they’re outnumbered. Bullets fly, slicing through crates and machinery, as more of Nikolai’s men pour in from every direction.

“Maksim is mine!” I shout over the chaos, my voice cutting through the thunder of gunshots. “Kill the rest!”

Konstantin fires beside me, taking out a man who took cover behind a steel container. The fuckers are armed, but they’re disorganized.

Sloppy.

I weave between the stacks of shipping crates, searching for Maksim while firing at anything that moves. A bullet hits Konstantin’s vest, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. He’s alive—just winded—but the sight sends a fresh wave of fury through me.

I put two bullets in the guy responsible and keep moving. The fight is over almost as quickly as it started. Nikolai’s men are efficient and ruthless. Bodies litter the floor, and the gunfire fades, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.

“It’s over, Maksim!” I call, stepping forward. “You’re not leaving alive.”

Movement draws my eye, and I turn just in time to see Vasiliy take out another of Maksim’s men. His gaze meets mine across the blood-slick floor, and we exchange a nod. The room is clear.

“Unit commanders, report,” Vasiliy orders.

One by one, the voices crackle over the radio. “Unit one: clear.”

“Unit two: clear.”

“Unit three: clear.”

I glance around. No more shooters, no more movement. “Unit four: clear,” I confirm.

Vasiliy lowers his weapon and strides toward the office area. Maksim is there, flanked by two of his men. They’ve been stripped of their weapons and look as desperate and grimy as street rats cornered by wolves.

Nikolai steps forward, his tone cold and final. “Let’s give him what he deserves.”

But Maksim grins, his bloodied teeth gleaming. “Not so fast,” he says, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “We have her.”

Nikolai and Vasiliy freeze, their fists lowering as realization dawns.

“Have who?” I demand, already knowing the answer.

Maksim’s grin widens. “Katya Volkova.”

The ground tilts beneath me. My vision blurs, my breath catching like I’ve been sucker punched.Katya.The one person I swore to protect. And now she’s in their hands.

My lungs burn, and I can’t think or can’t breathe.

She was caught by these animals.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter under my breath, panic slicing through the edges of my rage. But the fear only fuels the fire in my chest. Maksim Olenko is a dead man walking.

Nikolai sneers. “You’re bluffing.”

Maksim arches a bloodied brow, his grin widening. “Am I, now? Well, let’s test that, shall we? What’s the saying again? If I’m lying, let God strike me dead.”

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