Page 77 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

I don’t have the energy to keep fighting him. I’m too tired.

The door bursts open, and Aleks rushes in, his eyes wide and full of concern.

“Katya,” he breathes, crossing the room in long strides.

For the first time since I woke up, I feel a flicker of comfort. Aleks kneels beside the bed, his strong hand taking mine as he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. His touch is gentle and steadying.

“Can you hear me?” he asks, his voice soft but insistent.

“Mm-hm,” I manage to mumble, though even that small effort feels like it takes too much from me.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” I say, forcing a faint smile despite the sharp pain in my face. “Please… don’t tell Igor.”

Aleks frowns, his brows knitting together. The hesitation in his expression is all I need to know.

“He knows,” I whisper, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut.

“He’s on his way.” Aleks nods. “Should be here any moment now.”

My shoulders tense, the weight on my chest growing heavier with every passing second. Every part of me shudders at the thought of Igor seeing me like this—weak, vulnerable, defeated.

There’s a commotion in the hallway, voices growing louder.

“Aleks,” I beg, my voice trembling, “don’t let him see me like this.”

“You’re beautiful and strong.” His thumb brushes over my bruised knuckles. “None of this is your fault, Katya. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I should’ve listened,” I cry, the tears spilling freely now. “Igor told me not to leave without the bodyguards, but I didn’t listen. I was too stubborn. I thought I could handle it on my own.”

“Stop it,” Aleks says firmly, his tone gentle but unyielding. “You’re in shock.”

The door swings open, and Igor’s towering frame fills the doorway.

He looks pale—almost ghostly—but his eyes are blazing, burning with fury and fear. His lips are pressed into a tight line, but the way he’s biting down on them is enough to draw blood.

“I’ll take it from here,” Igor says, his voice cold and authoritative. “Spasibo, Aleks.”

Aleks gives my hand one last squeeze before releasing it and stepping back. As the door clicks shut behind him, Igor crosses the room in three long strides.

I can’t stop the sob that escapes my lips. Tears blur my vision, my body trembling.

“Volchitsa,” he says softly.

Even through my swollen lids and tear-streaked face, I manage to look at him—terrifying and beautiful all at once. As much as I want to hide from him and bury my feelings, I can’t.

“Is it that bad?” I ask in a shaky whisper.

“No,” he exhales. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

He slides one arm beneath my neck, his fingers caressing my skin as he leans down and brushes his mouth against mine. The kiss turns firm, desperate, all consuming. He doesn’t just kiss me—hetakesme, his tongue sweeping against mine, claiming every part of me in a way that leaves no room for dissent.

I melt into him, my body going limp as I surrender completely. For the first time all day, the terror fades.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. His voice drops to a whisper, low and fierce. “Who did this to you?”

The words are more of a growl than a question.

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