Page 85 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Igor is the passion, the burning desire I never knew I’d find. And I can’t believe what I missed out on my entire life. Until I fell in bed with him, I never understood how sex could be this fulfilling, vibrant, and... explosive.

“You okay?” he asks, glancing between us. “Think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow?”

“I’ll definitely be sore,” I tell him with a smile.

“Well, you sure enjoyed the process.”

I punch his arm playfully. “I can’t believe you say such things, even if it’s true. You’re...”

“What?” he chuckles.

“Dangerous. And my cure,” I sigh.

Igor’s smile radiates to my very core. Everything about him enthralls me.

“God, I don’t even recognize myself anymore,” I admit, pushing a strand of hair away from my face.

“Likewise,” he murmurs, pecking my nose and brushing a knuckle across my cheek.

Being in his arms awakens something primal in both of us—a need that only we can satisfy in each other. At this moment, I have no more doubts left that he’s the one. Every barrier I’ve built, every wall I’ve raised to keep others at bay, he crumbles. He sees right through me, understands parts of me I’ve kept hidden from everyone else.

But soon I will leave him behind.

“Hold me for a while longer,” I whisper, burying my face in his neck. “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, with you.”

“Always,volchitsa,” he says softly, pulling me into his arms.

With my cheek against his chest, I let his heartbeat relax me. It’s steady and strong, in step with mine. Peace flows through me, but I know it won’t last. Soon I’ll be back in Russia, and this will be just a memory. This moment can be captured, replayed, and remembered. But our lives are worlds apart—mine is in Russia, his here.

And while I cling to him, my anxiety’s still at the highest level. In a couple of hours, the sun will rise. The kids will wake up. We’ll meet reality.

But right now, it’s only us.

30

IGOR

The first bang jerks me out of sleep, the sound so loud it feels like it punches through my chest. My eyes snap open just in time to see the window explode inward, shards of glass slicing through the air like tiny daggers. Before I can think, I’m moving—my body acting on instinct. I throw myself over Katya, covering her bare skin with mine as another explosion rocks the room.

The air turns to poison in seconds. Acrid smoke fills the space, thick and greasy, making it impossible to breathe. Flashes of light blind me, followed by a rain of burning debris. The sharp sting of glass cuts into my back and shoulders, and still, I keep her pinned beneath me, shielding her from whatever the hell this is.

A third blast goes off, less than six feet away. Fire and sparks erupt in all directions, lighting up the room in bursts of violent color. My ears are ringing, my skin burning, and the smell—it’s so sharp it scours my throat raw with every breath. For a second, my brain can’t catch up. A bomb? No. It’s fireworks. Someone’s throwing fucking aerial fireworks through my window. The kindthat light up the sky in celebration—but here, in a bedroom, they’re a goddamn death trap.

I roll off Katya and grab her hand, dragging her to the floor with me. She’s coughing uncontrollably, her grip on me like a vise as I pull her toward the only shelter I can think of. “Stay low!” I order, my voice hoarse from the smoke. I shove a pillow over her head and wrap the blanket tightly around her, tucking her beneath it like it’ll somehow keep her safe from the insanity exploding all around us. “Don’t move. I’ll get us out.”

She doesn’t argue, and thank God for that, because I don’t have time to convince her. Another rocket screams through the shattered window, hitting the wardrobe and detonating in a burst of fiery sparks. The flash blinds me, and for a moment, I can’t see anything but white spots burning into my vision. The sound is deafening, leaving my ears ringing like a fire alarm as I stumble forward, grabbing my gun from the nightstand.

“Stay under the bed!” I bark at Katya, already moving toward the source of the chaos. She scrambles beneath the bed frame, her wide, terrified eyes the last thing I see before I force myself to turn away.

My lungs burn with every breath as I crawl toward the window, keeping low to avoid the smoke still billowing through the room. I glance out, gun drawn, ready to aim—but there’s no one. Just the shattered glass glittering on the windowsill and the distant pop of fireworks outside. My teeth clench hard enough to hurt. The coward didn’t stick around. Whoever did this just lit the match and ran.

The door bursts open, and Aleks rushes in, his gun drawn. “The window,” I choke out, coughing into the crook of my arm.

He crosses the room and takes a quick look outside, his movements sharp and deliberate. When he turns back, his face is pale. “They’re gone,” he hisses, his expression grim. “Must’ve booked it as soon as they threw the last one.”

I let out a string of curses, pacing the room to keep my adrenaline from boiling over. The smoke is starting to thin now, drifting out through the shattered window, but it still clings to my skin, my throat, my lungs. “The kids?” I ask, whipping my head toward Aleks.

“Safe,” he assures me. “We got to them first.”

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