Page 98 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

As we approach the door, Ivan surprises me.

“You’re not taking my gun this time?” I ask, half-joking, running a hand through my hair.

“Not today,” he replies with a slight smirk.

That catches me off guard. “Interesting.”

“Don’t push it,” he warns, his tone a shade too serious for my liking. “Play nice.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Playing nice isn’t exactly my forte, but with the shitstorm we’re standing in, I know he’s right. I straighten my posture as Ivan knocks on the heavy oak door. Nikolai’s voice rumbles from the other side, giving us permission to enter.

As we step inside, I immediately clock the tension in the room. Nikolai stands behind his desk, his broad shoulders square and his expression as unreadable as ever. But it’s not justhim. There’s another figure leaning against the far wall, and the moment I realize who it is, my pulse spikes.

“Vasiliy,” I say, my voice low and sharp. “I’d be lying if I said it’s good to see you.”

My fists clench at my sides as I glare at Katya’s older brother. He steps forward, his eyes narrowing at me like he’s already made his judgment.

“You had one job,” he sneers, his words dripping with disdain. “To keep Katya and Sofiya safe.”

I don’t flinch, even though the accusation cuts deep. “Yes,” I respond evenly, keeping my voice calm, “and I’m handling it.”

“No,” he snaps, his glare turning colder. “I am.”

I grit my teeth, my pulse pounding in my ears. Vasiliy’s presence feels like a challenge, like he’s here to remind me that I’ve failed. He looks like he’s ready to draw blood, his fingers twitching at his sides as though itching to grab a weapon.

“We have a name,” I say, keeping my tone measured. “Maksim Olenko. Galina’s brother. I assume your shadow filled you in?” I glance at Ivan, who nods once, his face impassive.

Nikolai crosses his arms over his chest, stepping forward. “That’s why I asked Vasiliy to come to New York.”

I stiffen. “We can handle Maksim on our own. Between the Volkovs and the Sokolovs, we don’t need foreign interference.” My words are clipped, but I’m careful not to outright insult him.

“Vasiliy has access to resources we don’t,” Nikolai insists firmly. “Classified contacts that will speed this up. Need I remind you, Igor, that time is not on our side?”

He’s right, and I know it, but the admission doesn’t come easily. The Colombians aren’t going to wait forever. Once the deadline hits, they’ll come down on us with the kind of force we can’t afford.

“We’re making progress,” I counter. “We’ve got the name. Now it’s just a matter of tracking Maksim down.”

“That’s where I come in,” Vasiliy glowers at me, his posture dripping with arrogance. He lifts his chin, his pale blue eyes cutting through me like ice.

My shoulders tense automatically. It’s not just his words—it’s the way he says them, like he’s already decided I’m incapable of handling this myself. My fists tighten, the urge to put him in his place almost overpowering.

“Control yourself,” Nikolai interjects, his tone like a whip crack. “This isn’t about egos. It’s about Katya and Sofiya. We’re family, Igor, whether you like it or not. So let’s act like it and focus on making sure no one fucks with us.”

I hold Nikolai’s icy stare for a beat longer, my jaw locked, before I finally nod. He’s right—this isn’t the time for petty arguments, not when Katya and Sofiya’s safety is on the line.

Reluctantly, I sit down, my muscles taut with restrained tension. Nikolai and Vasiliy take their seats across from me. Ivan moves to the liquor cabinet, pouring out shots of vodka with the kind of practiced ease that says this isn’t his first time playing peacemaker.

Vasiliy takes a sip from his glass before speaking, his tone almost conversational. “Nikolai mentioned his history with the Olenkos.”

“That was six years ago,” I say, waving the comment off. “Water under the bridge.”

Vasiliy doesn’t look convinced. “I doubt it’s water under the bridge for them. They were biding their time. Waiting. And now they’re striking.”

Nikolai’s face darkens at the reminder. I know the story well—how he killed Fedot Olenko and his cousin Grigoriy after they set me up. If anyone should hold a grudge, it’s me. But Vasiliy has a point. The Olenkos don’t forget. Nor do they forgive.

“Boris wanted me to marry Galina,” I offer. “Why would he push for it if he blamed me or Nikolai for what happened?”

“Because Boris doesn’t have the guts to take you on directly,” Nikolai interjects sharply. “But Maksim? He’s impulsive enough to take matters into his own hands.”

---