Page 25 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Vasiliy kneels beside me, his hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. “You won’t be alone,sestra,” he reassures me softly. “Nikolai’s in New York. He’ll look after you and Sofiya. I’ll make sure your job here waits for you. They’ll put you on a sabbatical.”

I take a shuddering breath, lifting my tear-streaked face. My voice is barely a whisper. “Okay. We’ll go.”

Igor steps closer, his gaze softening for the first time. He lifts my chin with his finger, forcing me to look at him. “Let’s pack.”

9

IGOR

Itry to suppress my irritation as Katya and Sofiya communicate with their hands the entire drive to the airport. Their silent conversation is fluid, graceful even, and Sofiya lights up each time Katya responds. My daughter occasionally looks over at me, her wide blue eyes brimming with curiosity. Sometimes she smiles or waves, and I do my best to offer her a reassuring nod, though I’m still trying to process the fact that she’s here.

My daughter.

She doesn’t know who I am yet, and she has no clue where she’s going. But she seems excited, and that’s a good sign. It’ll make the adjustment easier—for her, at least.

“Stay close,” I warn Katya as we step out of the car. My tone is sharp, a reminder that I’m in control. After Vasiliy’s parting words, I can’t afford to take any chances. If Katya so much as tries to slip away, she’ll be left behind. Sofiya, on the other hand, won’t.

Aleks had the foresight to organize a security escort for our departure. As we make our way toward the private jet, Sofiya stares openly at the tall men in suits, her fascination evident.When they notice her watching, a few of them smile and wave. Bratva or not, my men have soft spots when it comes to children. Protecting family is sacred to all of us.

“This way,GospodinSokolov,” says a security officer, gesturing toward the plane waiting for us on the tarmac. “Everything is ready. You can board now.”

“Spasibo,” I reply, nodding at one of my men to tip him.

I guide Katya and Sofiya up the tarmac, my hand resting on Katya’s wrist to ensure she doesn’t stray. The stairs to the jet are already in place, and the sleek aircraft gleams under the harsh glow of the overhead lights. As we pass other private planes, a group of flight attendants in crimson coats watches us. For some reason, they wave, their thick accents floating through the chilly air as they greet us.

Katya takes the signal when I give her a slight push forward. She grabs Sofiya’s little hand, helping her up the stairs. Sofiya climbs eagerly, her attention darting from the attendants to the jet itself, while my men keep a watchful eye on them. Their hands hover near their waists, where their guns are tucked, their eyes constantly scanning for potential threats.

As I’m about to follow them, I pause. Something doesn’t feel right. Turning, I motion for one of my men to approach.

“What’s your name?” I ask, already mentally filing away the details of this exchange.

“Konstantin,Gospodin,” he answers, his gaze locked straight ahead.

I nod toward the plane where the red-coated attendants are still standing. “Find out who owns that jet. Take a few men with you and ensure they’re not a threat.”

“Yes,Gospodin,” he replies immediately, signaling two others to follow him.

I take one last look around, scanning for anything I might’ve missed. Satisfied that the area is secure, I climb the stairs and step inside the jet.

The interior is as luxurious as I expected—Aleks has outdone himself. Plush beige recliners surround a polished mahogany table, and gold-plated lamps cast a warm glow over the cabin.

Sofiya is wide-eyed, her awe written all over her face as she takes in her surroundings. She runs her hands over the soft armrest of a chair, her smile brighter than I’ve seen it yet.

Katya, on the other hand, looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her eyes are glassy, her lips pressed into a thin, defiant line. I can see the anger simmering beneath her calm exterior, and for once, I don’t blame her.

None of this is what she wanted.

I won’t let her twist what happened to make me the villain—shemade this mess.Shehid my daughter from me.Shedenied me years I’ll never get back. Whatever happiness she had in Moscow, she destroyed it the moment she decided to keep Sofiya a secret.

A flight attendant approaches us, and I have to stifle a groan. Of all people, it had to be her. The same woman I fucked on my flight to Moscow.

“Good evening. My name is Alyona,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness as she smiles at me. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Tell the captain to get us in the air,” I reply curtly, ignoring her flirtatious tone.

“Of course,” she says with a flutter of her lashes. “I’ll bring you something to drink.”

As she turns to leave, I glance at Katya. She’s watching me, her green eyes burning with restrained fury.

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