Page 74 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Boris’s lips press into a thin, unhappy line, his face briefly betraying the unease he tries so hard to hide. “Maybe,” he replies evenly. “Or maybeI’llshowyou.There’s always someone ready to claim another man’s rightful position.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a fraction of a second, the tension crackling like static in the air, before turning away simultaneously. Rage settles into a bitter lump of disappointment in my chest.

Losing Boris would create a power vacuum—a dangerous one. The people waiting in the wings to replace him are as ambitious as they are unfit. The devil I know is still better than the wolves I don’t.

I tap the folder against my hand, debating my next move. The Colombians won’t wait forever, and the missing cargo is the kind of thing that could unravel everything if I don’t find it soon. Timur can only keep Montoya off my back for so long.

“This isn’t over,” I say, turning on my heel and heading for the door.

“Come back soon,” Boris calls after me, his tone slick with mockery.

As I step into the hallway, I nearly collide with Galina, who’s seated on the stairs. Her auburn hair tumbles down her back in perfect, polished curls, framing her hazel eyes and dramatic makeup. She’s dressed in a designer minidress that’s entirely too short for this hour of the day, and her posture is calculated, deliberate—posed like bait.

“There must’ve been some misunderstanding the other night,” she says, rising gracefully to her feet. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly.”

Her hand trails along my torso, her fingers brushing over my shirt and pausing far too close to my belt.

I grab her wrist and push it aside. “It’s not a good time, Galina.”

She pouts, stepping closer despite my warning, her lips parting in a sultry smile. “Then come back when youdohave time. Perhaps we could?—”

“Enough,” I snap, cutting her off.

Even in my irritation, a sliver of satisfaction twists in my chest. Galina’s attractive, yes, but her desperation is off-putting. I prefer a woman with fire—someone who challenges me, pushes back. Someone like…

Katya.

Fuck. Katya.

She was gone before I woke up this morning. Hasn’t come home yet. My men haven’t seen her, but they’re scouring the city, checking every corner to make sure she’s safe.

I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to her.

Galina moves closer again, her lips brushing mine before I can stop her. A gasp escapes my throat, sharp and instinctive.

Wrong.

This is wrong on so many fucking levels.

I shove her back, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Don’t ever do that again. If Ieverwant you, I’ll come to you. Is that clear?”

“If?” she huffs, crossing her arms. “You can’t be serious. I’m literally throwing myself at you, and you refuse me? You should be thankful someone’s willing to?—”

“Galina!” Boris’s voice booms from the doorway, cutting her off. “Enough. I need you in the office.”

My jaw clenches, and I let out a snort of disgust. I’m done.

Without another word, I push past her, storming down the hallway toward the exit. As I pass Boris’s brother, Vladimir, I catch his sharp gaze lingering on me.

“Predatel.”

The slurred insult makes me pause mid-step.

“Who are you calling a traitor?” I demand, spinning back to face him.

Vladimir’s bloodshot eyes narrow. “Does it hit too close to home?”

Before I can answer, Maksim steps in, shoving Vladimir back. “Forgive my uncle, Igor. He’s not the same since his son’s death.”

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