Page 57 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

“Fine,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “How long will all of this take?”

Dr. Tolliver remains calm, as if she’s dealt with men like me a thousand times before. “The entire evaluation process, including the team’s discussion, will take about one to two weeks,” she explains. “We’ll move as quickly as we can, but we have to be thorough.”

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks of waiting, tests, and more waiting. It feels like an eternity, but I force myself to keep my reaction in check.

“Is there anything I can do to speed it up?” I ask, gripping the arms of the chair hard enough to make my knuckles ache.

Before Dr. Tolliver can respond, Katya places her hand over mine. The touch is light, but it pulls me back just enough to remind me that losing my temper won’t help Sofiya. I exhale slowly, releasing some of the tension coiled inside me.

“I know you’re doing your best,” I say to Dr. Tolliver, forcing the edge out of my voice. It feels unnatural, but I manage. “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” she replies, her tone kind but professional. “I understand how stressful this is for you.”

Stressful doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I don’t say that. Instead, I nod and glance at Katya, whose expression is as carefully guarded as ever.

“Alright,” I say, taking her hand in mine. She doesn’t pull away, but I can feel the resistance in her posture. “If you have everything you need, let’s get started.”

As Dr. Tolliver shifts her attention to Sofiya, I sit back in the white leather chair and muster the strength not to jump out of my skin. I watch as she signs to my daughter, her movements slow and deliberate, her tone soft but authoritative. Sofiya responds hesitantly, glancing at Katya for reassurance, but eventually, she nods and allows herself to be guided onto the paper-covered exam bed.

Dr. Tolliver is good. She has that air of confidence you don’t question—an authority that commands respect without demanding it. She’s the one in control here, and for the first time in a long time, I’m forced to accept that I’m not.

I hate it.

I glance at Katya, who’s sitting next to me, her eyes glued to Sofiya.

“Are you okay?” I ask her quietly.

Her lips twitch upward into a pained smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Fine.”

“It’ll be okay,” I say, leaning closer to her. “You’re not alone anymore.”

She doesn’t even look at me. Her fingers tap absently against her chair, her focus still on Sofiya. “I wasn’t alone before either,” she says flatly. “I had my brother by my side, Igor. Don’t expect me to change.”

I stiffen at her words, my jaw clenching. “I have no expectations when it comes to you.”

Her head snaps toward me, her brows knitting together in defiance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“No,” she says, her whisper sharp and challenging. “I want to know. What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Mean?”

I glance at Sofiya, who’s lying on the exam bed, watching us with wide eyes. “Shhh,” I hiss at Katya. “You’re making a scene.”

Katya narrows her eyes at me, but before she can say anything else, Dr. Tolliver shoots us a pointed look.

That’s the end of it.

For now.

I bite my tongue and sit back, my hands gripping my knees as I force myself to stay still. I’ll deal with Katya later, when we are alone.

Dr. Tolliver finishes Sofiya’s exam about fifteen minutes later, her movements careful and efficient. Sofiya sits up when it’s over, looking relieved but tired.

“I’ll call you with the details for the next appointment,” Dr. Tolliver says, standing up and offering us a polite smile.

Katya nods, helping Sofiya down from the bed.

I give the doctor a curt nod, my focus already on getting Sofiya out of here. “Thanks,” I say.

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