Page 101 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

Her voice is ice. “Why did you bring him here?”

“Hello, Mother,” I say, smiling with all my teeth. “Nice to see you too.”

She doesn’t smile back. Instead, she hisses the next words like venom. “I don’t want this lowlife setting foot in my house.”

“We need to talk. With both of you,” I say, jaw clenched.

She looks like I slapped her. Shock flickers, then anger, then resignation. Wordlessly, she steps aside.

The scent inside is painfully familiar—rose water, honeyed pastries, and decades of quiet judgment. Nothing has changed. Not the crystal chandelier that’s never once been dimmed. Not the dark, carved dining table where negotiations were whispered between toasts. Not the corner icon of Saint Nicholas, candlelitand watchful, casting long shadows like a silent reminder that even God was expected to take sides in this house.

My father rounds the corner, eyebrows lifting as his gaze lands on us. “Galina. What are you doing here?” His eyes darken as they slide to Vasiliy. “And what the hell is he doing in my house?”

“Your father’s right,” my mother chimes in, standing rigid beside him. “Do you have any idea what kind of disrespect this is? Bringinghimhere?”

I glance at Vasiliy. He hasn’t moved. Just stands beside me like a storm in a tailored suit.

And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like the weakest person in the room.

Vasiliy tenses by my side, but I speak first, cutting him off before he can escalate.

“That’s what I came to talk to you about,” I say, my voice even. “A lot of what happened is my fault. I’m not here to shift blame or make excuses. I want us to move forward. And the only way to do that is by letting go of the guilt and shame. We need to stop looking back.”

Mother draws in a sharp, offended breath. “Don’t tell mehe’sfilled your head with this nonsense.”

“No,” I say, lifting Vasiliy’s hand and threading my fingers with his. I hold it out, so they can see. So there are no illusions. “It was my therapist, actually.”

“You’re reckless, Galina.” My mother shakes her head like she’s watching a stranger spiral. “They never should’ve released you from that psychiatric hospital. You were sent there for a reason.”

Vasiliy growls low in his throat. I grip his hand tighter, a silent plea for restraint. He obeys—barely—but I feel the storm building beneath his skin.

“I’m here to ask for forgiveness,” I press on, even as my pulse pounds. “For my part in what happened. My choices got Maksim, Grigoriy, and Fedot killed. I see that now. I own it.”

“Too bad it didn’t killthemtoo,” Vasiliy mutters under his breath.

I elbow him in the ribs, shooting him a glare. He’s barely holding it together, and honestly, I appreciate it more than I can say.

“You should leave,” my father says suddenly, his voice sharp and cold. His gaze locks on Vasiliy. “A Volkov will never be welcome in this house.”

“Too bad you don’t get to decide that,” Vasiliy snaps, done playing nice. His patience is officially gone. “I’ll make this simple. Sit your ass in one of those ridiculous green chairs and let your daughter speak. I won’t say it again.”

My father’s face turns a dangerous shade of red.

“Boris,” my mother says sharply, pulling on his sleeve. She tugs him toward the dining table. Begrudgingly, they both sit.

“Thank you,” Vasiliy adds, far too pleased with himself.

The silence that follows is suffocating. Every tick of the wall clock lands like a countdown. Vasiliy gestures for me to sit, but I stay standing. So does he.

“I meant what I said. I’m sorry,” I begin again. My throat tightens, but I push through. “This next part won’t be easy to hear, but I need to say it.” I place a hand over my stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

My mother gasps. “You’re seriously telling us you’re having a child? Withhim?”

I ignore her and keep going. “I want this baby to have a better life. A different one. I don’t want him growing up with guns anddrugs and blood feuds. I don’t want his first word to be ‘war.’ Vasiliy and I want out—but to do that, I need your help.”

The silence that follows is a new kind of cruel.

Then my father finally speaks.

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