Page 104 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

“Where is she?” I bark, fighting the urge to put a bullet through his skull right here, right now. My fingers tighten on the grip of my gun.

He laughs, a sound so twisted it makes my blood boil. His face contorts with something dark and primal, like he knows he has the upper hand. “Go ahead. Hurt me, and I can promise she’ll never see the light of day. Think about the collateral damage before you act like a hothead.”

I grit my teeth, every muscle in my body taut with rage. “Where. Is. She?” I demand again, each word sharper than the last.

“Prove it,” Vasiliy demands, cold and unrelenting.

Maksim doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he motions to one of his men, who pulls out a phone and shoves it into my hand. The screen lights up with a single image, and the sight of it hits me.

Katya.

Her hair’s disheveled, her face pale and tight with terror. Her wrists are bound, and the fear in her eyes is raw and unfiltered. I’ve seen her strong, I’ve seen her angry, I’ve even seen her broken—but this? This is something else entirely. This is pure, unbridled fear, and it shakes me to my fucking core.

My vision tunnels, the edges of the room blurring. My knuckles whiten as I clutch the phone, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Maksim looks smug. “You better let me go.”

But something inside me snaps.

In one motion, I shove him back against the wall, my fist colliding with his face with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays from his nose, and a scream tears from his throat as he staggers.

But I’m not done.

I strike again, my fist slamming into his jaw, then again, harder, until my knuckles are slick with his blood and his face is barely recognizable. His cries echo around the room, but they only fuel the inferno raging inside me.

No one moves to stop me.

Not until I hear Nikolai shout. “Stop!” He lunges forward to grab my arm. “We need him alive!”

Vasiliy’s snarl cuts through next, sharp and commanding. “He’s the only one who knows where Katya is! Think, Igor!”

But I’m past thinking.

I shake them off like they’re nothing, rage blinding me as I grab Maksim by the collar. “You think you can threaten her? Use her against me?” I growl, my voice venomous and unhinged. “Youfuckingbastard.”

My boot slams into his gut, and he crumples with a pained groan. I don’t stop. My knife is in my hand before I even realize it, and the sharp edge presses against his skin.

“Don’t!” Nikolai yells, but it’s too late.

The blade slides across Maksim’s belly, opening him up like a gutted fish. Blood pours from the wound, pooling at his feet as his body twitches. I stab him again, again, and again, the blade tearing through flesh and muscle like paper.

Maksim gasps, his eyes rolling back, and I press the knife to his throat, ready to finish him off.

“No!” Nikolai roars, wrenching me back with all his strength, but the damage is already done. Maksim’s lifeless body is splayed on the ground, his blood soaking the floor.

Breathing heavily, I pocket the knife and turn to face the others. They’re staring at me—Konstantin, Nikolai, Vasiliy—all wide-eyed and horrified.

“Any more ideas?” I sneer, stepping over Maksim’s corpse.

“You fucking moron,” Nikolai snarls, shoving me hard. “We needed him alive! He was our only lead!”

I push him back, rage still coursing through my veins. “Like you’ve done so much better with his cousin and Yakov!” I snap. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint.”

“He’s dead?” Ivan’s voice cuts through the tension, his brows raised in mock disbelief as he surveys the scene.

“Oh yes,” Konstantin mutters tightly. “Igor made sure of it.”

“Idiot,” Nikolai hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The threats might stop, but we still don’t know where Katya is or why they did this.” He glares at me, his icy eyes burning with frustration. “You killed our only chance of finding her, and now we’re back to square one.”