Page 5 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

And God help me, I’ve never wanted trouble more in my life.

Bright, intelligent green eyes.

I’d know them anywhere.

They’re the same eyes that stared up at me that afternoon, wide and wild, her lips bruised from my mouth and her thighs trembling against my hands. Those eyes belong to a memory I’ve carried in my back pocket, pulling it out whenever I need a little distraction. And now, that memory is staring back at me, attached to the woman in front of me wearing a goddamn black judge’s robe.

And fuck, she looks good in it.

“Igor,” Aleks mutters under his breath, his voice tight, urging me to move. I barely hear him.

Katya hasn’t seen me yet. She’s focused on the file in front of her, her delicate fingers flipping through pages like the fate of the universe is written on them. Her hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, sleek and practical, but I know better. I’ve had those strands wrapped around my fist. I know how they feel spilling over my skin.

“Igor, move.This is ridiculous,” Aleks hisses again.

Ridiculous? He’s got no idea. The woman whose body I pinned to a fountain six years ago is now standing at the head of a courtroom, ready to pass judgment on the Bratva lieutenants I’ve been charged with protecting. My pulse kicks up, heat flashing across my skin as I force myself to swallow the low growl rising in my throat.

Six years ago, I’d stripped her bare, held her down, and fucked her until neither of us could breathe. Now she’s untouchable. The very embodiment of power and authority.

And fuck me, that’s only making her hotter.

I manage to stumble to a seat in the back row, Aleks stiff as a board beside me. He’s doing his best impression of a dutiful citizen, spine straight and hands folded in his lap, every muscle telegraphing respect. I should follow his lead, but all I can think about is Katya’s body under that robe.

My hands twitch on my thighs, the anticipation building in my chest so tight it feels like my rib cage might crack. No woman should have this much power over me.

And no judge should look this fucking good.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Katya begins, her voice steady, commanding, carrying the weight of the state with every syllable. “You have been called upon to serve not just this court, but the Motherland herself. In these proceedings, you have heard the voices of justice and the echoes of our nation’s laws, forged to protect every citizen under the banner of our great Russian Federation. The men accused today are judged not only by the law but by the spirit of our people, who trust in this system to uphold order and righteousness. Remember, the security of our Motherland depends on the justice we deliver. Reflect on this deeply, for your decision will resonate far beyond these walls. Thanks to the unwavering commitment of our brave prosecutors and the relentless dedication of our esteemed investigators, we stand ready to uphold the honor of Russia in this courtroom.”

I should be impressed. Hell, Iamimpressed. She’s a force to be reckoned with, every word deliberate, every pause perfectly calculated to keep the jury in her thrall. If I didn’t have a vested interest in this trial going the other way, I’d probably feel proud of her.

But right now? All I feel is the sharp pain of her speech driving an axe into my already aching balls.

One by one, the men on trial stand to plead their innocence. I study their faces as their lawyers make their cases, searching for cracks, for guilt, for any sign that one of them might fold. Either they’re doing a damn good job hiding it, or I’m too fucking tired to see through their facades.

Aleks nudges me sharply with his elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Him,” he murmurs, looking toward an elderly juror sitting stiffly near the front.

I nod, watching as Aleks slips out of the courtroom.

Jury tampering is child’s play for my brother. He’ll handle it with the same cold efficiency he handles everything else. As for me, I have other business to attend to.

Katya.

She’s finishing up the first day of trial with another impassioned speech about the importance of law and justice. If anyone else had been talking, I would’ve tuned them out long ago. But Katya? She has my full, undivided attention.

My gaze drops to her lips, full and plush, the kind of lips made for sin. I know how they felt wrapped around my cock, how soft and yielding they were. The memory of her taste surges back, and I feel myself hardening in my slacks.

And then her eyes find me.

Bright green and sharp as glass, they lock on mine, and for a second, the entire courtroom fades away. She falters, her hands tightening on the papers in her grasp, and I know I’ve gotten to her.

Katya might be my men’s worst nightmare, but she’s my greatest temptation. The way she looks at me—half angry, half hungry—makes it impossible to think about anything else.

Slowly, I let a smile curl across my lips, just enough to send her a message. Her throat works as she swallows, her composure slipping ever so slightly, and it’s all I can do not to laugh.

I mouth the word“dinner,”watching as her eyes widen in shock.

She recovers quickly. But I see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her gavel before she slams it down to adjourn the court for the day.

---