Page 71 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Shit. The audacity.The nerve.

She thinks this was just sex? That we can havethat—and then walk away like it was nothing? Like she didn’t feel the same fire I did?

No.

She’s insane if she thinks I’ll settle for anything less than everything. I’m the one who decides what this is, and it’s not just sex.

Katya gets up and grabs her nightgown, her back to me, but before she can slip away, I grab her wrist, yanking her against me. Her body tenses, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy rhythm of our breathing.

“Listen to me very closely,volchitsa,because I’ll only say this once,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. “If I catch you practicing ‘just sex’ with someone else, I’ll kill them. You mightnot admit it yet, but you’re mine. Only mine. You’ll do well to remember that.”

Her face is unreadable as she stares at me, and the lack of reaction is almost worse than if she’d slapped me. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t scream, doesn’t flinch. She simply nods, yanks her wrist free from my grip, and walks away.

She moves quickly, pulling the nightgown over her head as she goes.

“Careful,” I hiss, a grin curling at the corner of my mouth as I watch her retreating figure. “You might be leaving this room, but that doesn’t change a thing. We’re in this together now, and you’d better be prepared to take care of my needs just as I do yours.”

My tone carries a barely concealed threat, but she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even turn around. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she disappears through the door, her footsteps fading down the hall.

I lie back against the bed, the linen crumpled and still carrying her scent. The minutes drag on, and my mind sways between two opposing forces—the right thing and the thing I want most. And the truth is, in a situation like this, the two are mutually exclusive.

I sigh, running my fingers over the wrinkled sheets. All I can think about is how spectacular she felt wrapped around my cock. So tight, just like I remember. Unable to resist the need to touch, I stroke my flaccid manhood until it’s erect again. Wrapping my fingers around the shaft, I jerk it slowly, savoring the memory of her wet heat. It doesn’t take long for me to rub and grab hard, twisting and tugging at the head until I squirt, biting down on the pillow to smother my groans.

Maybe things will change.

Maybe Katya will learn how it feels to have a man who treats her like a queen. Because I’m the one for her, whether she knows it or not.

25

KATYA

It’s been so long since I let myself indulge that I almost forgot what it feels like to be free of responsibility. A shopping spree on Madison Avenue, lined with glittering storefronts flaunting five-thousand-dollar handbags, feels like stepping into another world. A champagne brunch, luxury spa facials—today I’m being treated like a princess.

An amazing life.

Only, it feels empty.

I miss Sofiya.

Nikolai and Katarina picked her and Damien up earlier to take them to Lev’s birthday party. It’s her first slumber party, and there’s no better way for her to spend it than with family. She’ll have the time of her life, I’m sure. But knowing that doesn’t make me miss her any less.

Shopping keeps me distracted for a while, but even that only works for so long. Hours later, the weight of silence presses down on me. Maybe I’ll have another glass of champagne before heading home to listen to Igor’s inevitable lecture. I can already hear it:Don’t sneak out without a proper escort.I only agree tothe security detail for Sofiya’s sake. With her gone for the night, there’s no reason to keep a shadow following me around.

“Have it sent to this address, please,” I say to the cashier after handing over my card for a Hermès purse.

“Of course, miss,” she replies, her customer service smile bright and polished as she processes the purchase.

I step outside, giddy for just a moment as I reach for my phone. The screen lights up with an incoming call. It’s Igor. My finger hovers over the green button for far too long, but in the end, I turn the phone off.

Avoiding him might not be the best strategy, but right now, it’s the healthiest one I can think of. After what happened last night—after the things he said and the way he looked at me—I’m not ready to face him. I wouldn’t even know how to meet his eyes without unraveling all over again.

Possessive asshole.

Demanding idiot.

The street feels less stifling. For a moment, I consider hailing a cab, but my feet carry me forward on their own. Movement will clear my head.

That’s when I notice the black SUV pulling up beside me.

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