Page 14 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Aleks narrows his eyes. “And her mother?”

I hesitate, knowing exactly how he’s going to react. But there’s no point in hiding it. “Katya Volkova.”

His head jerks back, his fists clenching as his jaw goes tight. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls. “The judge presiding over our men’s case? Nikolai’s sister? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

I don’t respond, which only seems to fuel his frustration.

“When Nikolai and Vasiliy find out about this...” Aleks shakes his head, standing abruptly. “Fucking hell, Igor. If you want to stick around, I won’t stop you. But let me make one thing clear: whatever shitstorm is about to rain down on you, you deserve every drop of it.”

“Fuck the Volkovs,” I hiss, grabbing my glass and throwing it at the floor. The glass shatters on impact, scattering shards across the polished parquet like broken diamonds.

“Hey!” the bartender shouts, his voice sharp. But the second he sees us, his expression shifts, fear flickering in his eyes. He steps back, disappearing into the shadows.

Aleks sighs, switching to a more neutral tone. “You shouldn’t have messed with the Volkovs. Haven’t you learned anything by now?”

“Only that Nikolai’s a piece of shit and Vasiliy’s a sneaky bastard,” I snap, my voice rising.

“Nikolai’s our brother-in-law now,” Aleks reminds me, his tone pointed. “You shouldn’t talk shit about family.”

“I’ll talk shit about whoever I please,” I snarl. “You don’t get it, Aleks. They knew. They both knew I had a daughter, and they didn’t say a damn word to me.”

Aleks narrows his eyes, his voice cold. “Don’t you think they would’ve come for you if they knew you were the one who fucked their sister?”

“Maybe,” I admit with a shrug. “But that’s not the point. Katya kept Sofiya from me.She’s my daughter!” I slam my fist against the bar, the wood groaning under the force.

Aleks places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but steady. “Yeah, she’s your daughter,” he says quietly. “But think this through, Igor. She’s just a kid. And no matter how angry you are, she’s going to need her mother.”

I sigh, my anger deflating as his words sink in. “I know.”

“You can count on me, whatever you decide,” Aleks says, giving me a small nod. “But don’t fuck it up.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, watching as he heads for the door.

Once he’s gone, I wave down the bartender, leaving a stack of rubles on the counter to cover the damage.

“I’m not leaving Moscow without my daughter,” I whisper to myself.

Pulling out my phone, I dial Katya as I step outside. A taxi screeches to a halt in front of me.

The line clicks, and her voice comes through, sharp and formal. “Yeah?” Her tone is smooth, commanding, yet utterly feminine. But I won’t let it distract me from my purpose. I take a deep breath, steadying my impatience as I get into the backseat.

“We’re not done yet,” I warn her.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh, cut the crap, Katya,” I bite back.

“Wait. I know that snarl. How could I forget the pathetic attempt at sounding threatening?”

“Don’t fuck with me,” I growl, my impatience resurfacing. “I want to see her.”

“No,” she hisses angrily and hangs up.

I call again, expecting her not to pick up. But she does.

“Go to hell, Igor.”

“Not without you, I’m not,” I roar, tired of her attitude.