Page 81 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

“Did you find anything useful in the file Olenko gave me?” I ask, shifting the conversation to something actionable.

Aleks hesitates, his hand still lingering at the back of his neck. The delay irritates me, but I stay quiet, giving him space to answer.

“It could be nothing,” Aleks says, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe that. He pauses, then adds, “The file had a few entries about the Gargarins.”

My head snaps up at the name. The Gargarins. Damien’s mother’s family. Hearing it now feels like a shot of ice water to my veins.

“Which one?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.

“Yakov,” Aleks answers, his tone careful, knowing exactly what that name means to me.

“What about him?”

“There are rumors he’s recovered,” Aleks says, watching me closely. “Some people claim they’ve seen him walk again.”

I blink, stunned for a moment. Yakov fucking Gargarin. A man I thought was as good as dead.

“Seriously? Yakov?” I shake my head, the disbelief turning quickly into anger. “If he’s back in the game, this whole thing could be his doing. He has the resources, the connections—and the grudge.”

“He could be the one who made the shipment disappear,” Aleks agrees, his voice grim.

My mind races, piecing together the fragments of information we have. Yakov Gargarin. The bloody packages. The attack on Katya. It’s all connected.

“What do you want me to do?” Aleks asks, breaking the silence.

“Keep Timur in the loop,” I order. “He’s the only one who can keep Montoya happy. The Colombians are already on edge, and if we don’t find that shipment soon, they’ll come after us with everything they’ve got. We need to buy time.”

Aleks nods, his expression serious.

“Find out everything you can,” I continue. “Dig deeper into the Gargarins. I don’t want rumors or speculation—I need hard evidence. Names, dates, locations. Bring me something I can use.”

“And what about Katya’s attackers?” Aleks asks, his tone quieter, but no less intense.

“The attack is connected to the shipment,” I say firmly. “Whoever’s behind this thinks they can rattle us. They’ll regret it.” My voice drops, cold and final. “When we find them, I’ll make sure they understand what happens to anyone who dares touch what’s mine. Katya’s attackers won’t just disappear—I’ll make an example out of them.”

Aleks holds my gaze for a moment, then nods. “Consider it done,” he says, rising from his seat.

I watch him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and for a moment, the office feels suffocatingly quiet.

My mind churns with plans and contingencies, but the image of Katya—battered, pale, her body trembling as she tried to hide her pain—keeps breaking through. Every time I think of the bruises on her skin, the rage flares up again, white-hot and consuming.

Whoever is behind this—they think they’ve sent a message? They think they’ve warned me?

They have no idea what’s coming for them.

I rise from the desk, pacing to the window and staring out at the quiet street. My reflection stares back at me in the glass—hard, determined, merciless.

Katya. Sofiya. Damien. My family.

They’ll never feel fear again, not as long as I draw breath. Whoever threatens them, whoever dares to lay a hand on them, will learn the true meaning of retribution.

And I’ll deliver it personally.

29

KATYA

Igor’s piercing gaze locks onto mine, our foreheads pressed together, his breath hot and uneven against my lips. His hands tremble slightly as they frame my waist, his fingertips grazing my skin in a way that makes every nerve ignite. He’s holding himself back—again.

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