Page 19 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

The clicking sound from Sofiya’s bracelet stops abruptly, and my gaze snaps back to her. She’s looking at me now, studying me with wide, curious eyes. For a split second, hope flares in my chest. She’s going to say something.

But she remains quiet.

Her head tilts slightly, and she looks toward Katya, as if silently asking for permission to respond.

Katya sighs and steps forward, pushing me aside. I watch as her hands move in deliberate, fluid motions.

Sofiya’s gaze sharpens, her eyes locking onto Katya’s hands. And then, she mimics the movements with her own small hands.

“She doesn’t speak,” I mutter, realization dawning on me as the pieces finally click into place. “Katya, why doesn’t she speak?”

My voice sounds strange, distant, as if I were someone else.

Katya doesn’t answer, and for the first time in years, my mind goes blank.Something is wrong with my daughter.

“Why is she not responding?” I demand again, louder this time. Anger rises in me like a tide, familiar and comforting, and I latch onto it with both hands.

“That’s enough,” Katya says firmly, her tone carrying a finality that makes my blood boil. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“Fuck that!” I snarl, my voice echoing. “You’ll tell me what the hell is going on. Why is she not talking? Is something wrong with her?”

“Igor, leave it alone,” she warns, but there’s a note of desperation creeping into her voice now. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She’s perfect.”

“No shit,” I snap, stepping closer, refusing to back down. “Answer me!”

Katya’s face hardens, but I see the crack in her composure. “She’s a good and happy kid,” she says, her tone clipped. “That’s all you need to know.”

“She can’t speak,” I grind, my jaw tight. “Is it physical or psychological?”

“She has neurofibromatosis, type II,” Katya blurts out, her voice sharp with annoyance.

I stare at her, the unfamiliar term meaning nothing to me. “What the hell is that? Is it deadly? Is it treatable?”

“It’s a genetic disorder,” she explains, her tone cold, like she’s reading off a medical report. “It causes non-cancerous tumors to grow on her hearing nerves. She started losing her hearing two years ago.”

“Have you taken her to see doctors?” I ask, though the question feels stupid even as it leaves my mouth. Of course she has.

Her eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. “What doyouthink? Do you seriously believe I wouldn’t take her to the best specialists in Russia?”

“Stop talking to me like I’m an idiot,” I snap back, my anger reigniting. “You should’vetoldme, Katya. I hate you for keeping so many secrets from me. You better hope this is the last one.”

“No one asked you to show up and start demanding rights,” she hisses, her voice venomous. Her defiance is impressive. “She doesn’t know you. It’d be better for all of us if you just left her alone. You’re no more than a sperm donor, you hear me?”

“She’s my daughter,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I want my child.”

“You need to leave,” Katya insists, her desperation bubbling to the surface. “You saw her. We’re done here.”

“Fine,” I bite out. “But Sofiya’s coming with me.”

“Like hell she is!” she yells, her voice rising. “You think you can justtakeher? You’re insane!”

“Look at her, Katya,” I say, my voice soft but sharp enough to cut. “She’ll have better care in New York. One call, and I’ll have the best specialists in the world treating her.”

“No!” she screams, her voice cracking with emotion. “You can’t take her from me!”

“I can,” I growl, my tone darkening, “and I will.”

“Over my dead body,” she spits, her voice trembling.