Page 24 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

The tension is suffocating, closing in on me from every direction. I pace toward the window, needing air, needing something solid to anchor me. The traffic outside flows on as if nothing is happening, as if my world isn’t crashing down. The gray, familiar buildings are so ordinary—but to Sofiya and me, they’re everything. Moscow is our home, the center of our little world.

“She’s my daughter,” Igor repeats his mantra stubbornly, his voice rough and unyielding. “She’s coming to New York with me.”

The finality in his tone sends a shiver down my spine. I refuse to turn around. I don’t want him to see the tears threatening to fall.

Vasiliy opens his mouth to respond, but Igor rises to his feet, cutting him off. I hear his footsteps before I feel him looming behind me.

He moves closer, his hands planting on the window on either side of me, boxing me in. The heat of his body radiates against my back as he locks his eyes on mine in the window reflection.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he says quietly, the words landing on me like boulders, heavy and crushing. “I don’t care what you or your brother think you can do. I will burn your entire life to the ground, Katya. I’ll leave you no choice but to come with me. If you push me, I’ll mobilize my men, call on every ally I have, and hire the deadliest scum in the undergroundto destroy everything you love. Is that what you want? Because if it is, say the word, and I’ll make the call.”

My breath catches, and anxiety grips my chest like a vice. My palms press against the cold glass, and for a moment, the world outside blurs. I can feel my brother’s steady presence behind Igor, but Vasiliy doesn’t move. Either he doesn’t see Igor as a real threat, or he’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“If you do that,” I whisper, turning around to face him defiantly, my voice trembling, “if you start a war, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll never,everlet you near Sofiya, and we will hate you for the rest of our lives.”

“The rest of your life might be shorter than you think if you keep my daughter away from me,” Igor thunders, his voice low and lethal. “Don’t push me, Katya. Sofiya is coming with me, whether you like it or not. This is your one and only chance to stay in her life.”

My heart lurches. The weight of his words crushes me, but there’s a cruel, undeniable logic to them. If I refuse, if I push too hard, I could lose Sofiya forever. Staying in her life should be enough—itshould—but the thought of leaving our life here, our home, everything we’ve built, feels unbearable.

Sofiya belongs here. This is her world. She has Annette, who adores her and teaches her English. She has friends, a school, a routine. How could I rip her away from all of that?

A lump forms in my throat, and I fight to hold back the tears. But I know I’m not just scared for her. I’m scared for me. Sofiya is my anchor. My rock. Without her, I’m adrift.

Vasiliy rises to his feet, slowly reaching under his jacket. The click of his gun cuts through the air like a blade.

“I thought I warned you not to threaten my sister,” he says coldly, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of Igor’s head.

Igor’s eyes stay locked on mine. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink. Instead, he speaks to my brother, his tone dark and steady. “Never pull a gun unless you’re willing to use it.”

“I heard you’ve been shot in the head before,” Vasiliy replies, his voice like ice. “Nick told me all about it. Too bad he didn’t let you die. It would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.”

Igor smiles, that dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. “True. But it also would’ve meant your brother would never have found happiness, and your sister would never have a kid who’s her whole world. The one she’s so determined to keep away from me.”

“Katya, go check on Sofiya,” Vasiliy commands, his voice tight. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

I hesitate, my body frozen, but I nod eventually. As I move to pass Igor, he turns so fast I don’t even see it coming. In one swift motion, he grabs the gun from Vasiliy, spinning it around to press the barrel against my brother’s temple.

“If you want your brother to live,” Igor growls, his voice low and menacing, “you’ll tell him you’re coming to New York. Now.”

As if on cue, Vasiliy’s men burst into the room, their guns aimed directly at Igor.

But Vasiliy doesn’t recoil. His calm, emotionless mask is firmly in place, like this is just another Tuesday.

“I’m not a stranger to pulling the trigger,” Igor warns. “Is this how you want it to go? Do you want Sofiya to lose her parents and her uncle because you can’t see past your stubborn pride?”

For a long moment, the room is silent.

Finally, Vasiliy raises his hand, signaling his men to stand down. His voice is measured but sharp. “Katya and Sofiya will go to New York.”

“What?” The word escapes my lips in a choked whisper, tears pooling in my eyes.

“Sofiya needs help,” Vasiliy says, meeting my gaze over Igor’s shoulder. “We have to do what’s best for her.”

“I’m her mother!” I yell, the words ripping from my throat. “I’m the one who decides what’s best for her!”

Vasiliy’s face softens, but his tone remains firm. “Your only reason for not going is him, Katya. That’s not good enough.”

All the fight drains out of me. I sink to my knees, my head bowing as the tears finally spill.

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