Page 34 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

Konstantin mumbles something that might’ve been an apology, but I’m already signaling for one of the men to drag him out of the way. Once the hallway clears, I turn back to Aleks, my voice low and firm.

“Get yourself together.”

Aleks exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. The tension in his shoulders eases, but the fire in his eyes is still there, burning low and dangerous.

“Do you know who did this?” I ask.

Aleks’s jaw tightens. “If it was just you, I’d have a list a mile long. But both of us? That narrows it down.”

“You’re thinking of someone.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but the murderous glint in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.

“If it’s who I think it is…” Aleks’s voice drops into a growl. “They just declared war. And I’m not holding back.”

Neither am I.

“Give me names,” I demand. “Katya, Sofiya, and Damien—they’re under my protection. I need to know who we’re dealing with.”

Aleks meets my gaze, his expression dark. Finally, he says what I already feared.

“We’re having problems with the Colombians.”

“Shit,” I whisper, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. My eyes scan the bloody mess one last time. “What the hell happened?”

Aleks hesitates, his jaw clenching tight. “It’s about a shipment.”

And just like that, I know this is far from over.

My patience is a lit fuse, sparking closer to detonation with every second Aleks keeps me in the dark. I step forward, my shoe squelching in the blood pooling around us. “We don’t have time for your cryptic bullshit, brother. Spit it out.”

Aleks locks eyes with me, his jaw tightening. “Need I remind you that you were supposed to come back to New York when I did?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap, my temper flaring. “Are you saying this clusterfuck ismyfault?”

“I’m saying,” he fires back, voice sharp and biting, “that if you’d been where you weresupposedto be, you would’ve handled the shipment yourself.”

The implication lands like a punch, and I don’t bother dodging. I step closer, my blood heating. “What the hell happened with it?”

“Mikhail lost it.” Aleks’s words clipped and razor-sharp. “There was a mix-up with the containers. When our men showed up to collect, the cargo was gone.”

“Gone?” I echo, my voice low, vibrating with anger. “How the fuck does a shipment justdisappear?”

Aleks snaps his fingers. “Just like that. Poof. Gone. Vanished.”

The rage in my chest explodes, curling my fists tight. I have to fight the urge to put my hand through the nearest wall—or worse, Aleks’s face. This isn’t just a screw-up; it’s a disaster. And Mikhail? Of course, it’s him. That walking liability has been nothing but a headache since the start. He’s too reckless, too green, and now his incompetence is dragging us into the fire.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I mutter, my voice dark and simmering. “And now? What’s the fallout from thisbrilliantmove?”

Aleks runs a hand over his buzzcut, tension etched into every line of his face. “Father’s called a meeting with Timur. Everyone’s expected to show.”

A curse rumbles out of me. That’s never a good sign.

Timur’s been in bed with the Sokolov family for over twenty years, but he’s not a man you trust further than you can throw him. A survivor. A shark. The kind of guy who’d sell his own mother for the right price. If the Colombians start pressing—and they will—Timur won’t hesitate to point the finger in our direction to save his own neck.

“If Timur thinks he’s getting out of this clean, he’s a goddamn idiot,” I say, my voice hard as steel. “He knows we’ve got just as much dirt on him as he does on us. But that’s not going to matter if the Colombians start taking scalps. He’ll throw us under the bus without blinking.”

Aleks nods grimly, his jaw ticking. The fragile balance between our families is already hanging by a thread. This mess? It’s a chainsaw, ready to slice it clean through.