Page 18 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

For a moment, his expression flickers. But then the smirk returns, slow and calculating. Without warning, he leans in and presses his lips against mine.

I should hate it. Hatehim.But instead, the heat inside me explodes, spreading like wildfire through my veins. His kiss is demanding, unapologetic, and my body betrays me by responding instantly. My skin burns with need, a desperate kind of yearning I haven’t felt in years.

My mind screams at me to stop, to fight back, to slap him across his smug, handsome face. But my body—the traitorous thing that it is—melts against him, clinging to the one touch that seems capable of quenching the blaze he’s ignited inside me.

And he knows it.

He uses my distraction to his advantage, his strength and speed tipping the scale firmly in his favor. In one swift motion, he sweeps me aside, stepping past me with infuriating ease.

I stumble backward, landing awkwardly on the pavement. My hands catch me before I hit the ground too hard, but it’s not the fall that knocks the breath out of me—it’s him.

Even in my anger, I can’t help but notice how calculated his movements were. He didn’t let go of me until he was certain I wouldn’t hurt myself. A small part of me wonders if that means something. The rest of me doesn’t care.

Because now, with me out of the way, there’s nothing standing between him and Sofiya.

I scramble to my feet, panic clawing at my chest as I whirl to face him. He’s already at the car, his hand resting on the handle of Sofiya’s door.

“Don’t you dare!” I shout, my voice shaking with rage.

He freezes, turning to glance at me over his shoulder. His expression is unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes makes my blood run cold.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” I snarl, my voice rising. “If you open that door, I swear to God, Igor?—”

“You’ll what?” he asks, cutting me off. His voice is calm, almost bored, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that warns me not to push him further. “What exactly are you going to do, Katya?”

I don’t have an answer. Not one that’ll stop him.

“She’s mine, Katya,” he says, turning to face me fully now. His voice softens, but it doesn’t lose its weight. “Ours. You can hate me all you want. You can call me whatever names make you feel better. But she’s my daughter, and I’m not walking away.”

His words cut deep, but I refuse to show it. “You don’t deserve her,” I spit.

His expression darkens, his jaw tightening. “And you don’t get to make that call.”

7

IGOR

“Hello,malyshka,” I say softly, a smile tugging at my lips.

Sofiya stares up at me, her tiny face blank and unreadable. The only sound in the charged silence is the soft clicking of the bracelet around her wrist, her small fingers fiddling with it absently.

This is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on my daughter, and yet, there’s no mistaking the pull I feel toward her. It’s the same overwhelming flood of emotion I felt the first time I held Damien.

But she’s so different from him. Sofiya looks like Katya—her hair, the oval shape of her face—but those wide, piercing blue eyes? They’re mine. The recognition is instant and instinctual. Even if she didn’t look like me, I’dknow. She’s my blood.

The connection feels almost otherworldly. Like an invisible thread tying us together. But it’s also deeply unsettling because a part of me still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I didn’t know she existed until now.

“Don’t be afraid,” I murmur, my voice gentle.

Sofiya doesn’t react. She doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even flinch. Her face stays blank, unreadable. My jaw tightens as I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, she’s not answering me. Poor girl doesn’t speak English.

“Privet, malyshka,” I try again, switching to Russian.

This time, she bites her lower lip, and for the briefest moment, I catch it trembling. Her blue eyes glisten with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall.

I frown, forcing myself to take a calming breath as frustration bubbles in my chest. My patience is thin, worn down by Katya’s constant defiance and the raw, complicated emotions clawing at me. All I want is to connect with my daughter, but she’s pulling away.

And then I realize: it’sher. It’s Katya’s fault. She must’ve told Sofiya not to speak to me. She’s poisoned her mind against me before I even had the chance to meet her.

---