Page 37 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

“We’ll talk later,” he replies, nodding toward the kids.

And just like that, I’m reminded that in his world, secrets are currency.

And I’m flat broke.

The elevator doors slide open, and a familiar face with the same piercing blue eyes steps out. Aleks, Igor’s brother. His stride is easy, casual, but there’s an edge to him, a sharpness that makes it clear he’s no one’s sidekick. He nods in acknowledgment before turning his attention to Igor.

“I sent the men ahead,” Aleks says, his tone clipped but calm. “I’m riding in the car with you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Igor replies, already sounding annoyed. “We’re fine.”

“Two gun—hands are better than one,” Aleks reminds him, smirking at his own slip. “We’re going to the same place anyway.”

Igor exhales sharply, the sound edged with frustration. “Fine,” he mutters, stepping aside. “You might as well make yourself useful and help with the bags.”

I tense as Aleks kneels in front of Sofiya. His resemblance to Igor is uncanny—same sharp cheekbones, same icy eyes—but where Igor is steel, Aleks has an easy charm that feels almost disarming.

He tilts his head to the side, his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he lifts his hands and signs,“Hi, I’m Aleks.”

Sofiya’s eyes widen, and for a brief moment, her tiny hands tremble. But then the smallest smile blooms on her face, and she signs back,“I’m Sofiya.”

Her shyness melts away, and seeing her beam so brightly makes something inside me ache.

She shouldn’t be here,a voice in my head whispers.None of us should.

“Nice to meet you,”Aleks signs, his movements fluid and confident. Then he stands, his gaze shifting to meet mine.

“Katya,” he says, the corners of his mouth twitching upward like he knows something I don’t.

“Aleks,” I reply coolly, crossing my arms, unwilling to let his charm chip away at my walls.

Igor steps in, his tone sharp with irritation. “Since when do you know sign language?”

Aleks throws him a smirk, as if he’s enjoying the fact that his brother didn’t see this coming. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, brother,” he says casually, turning back to Damien before Igor can respond.

Aleks offers Damien his fist, grinning. “What’s up, little man?”

Damien’s face lights up as he bumps fists with Aleks. “Will you teach me how to talk to Sofiya?”

The words catch me off guard. I blink, my chest tightening with a flicker of warmth. I wasn’t prepared for that, wasn’t prepared for Damien’s earnestness or his desire to connect with Sofiya.

Maybe I’ve underestimated him. Maybe the world Igor comes from hasn’t tainted him yet.

Aleks grins and winks at Damien. “Sure thing, little man. We’ll start with the basics.”

The elevator dings, and we file inside, bags and all. Igor follows, his posture tense, his expression dark. He doesn’t say aword, but the way his jaw clenches and his icy gaze darts toward me every few seconds is enough to make his anger obvious.

I ignore him. Let him stew in his misery. If he needs a fight to unload all that anger, he can look somewhere else. I’ve given him enough.

The ride to Igor’s parents’ house is suffocating. No one speaks. Sofiya leans against me, clutching my hand while Damien sits beside her, fidgeting with one of his toys. Aleks sits in the front, relaxed, but his eyes flick to the rearview mirror every so often, like he’s reading the tension in the car and filing it away for later.

Igor is a storm cloud sitting beside him, radiating his displeasure like a physical thing. His hands grip the wheel a little too tight, his jaw clenched so hard I half expect to hear it crack.

And me? I stare out the window, watching the city blur past as my mind races. The silence in the car is unbearable, but it’s nothing compared to the dread sitting heavy in my chest.

Igor’s parents. Their house.

I didn’t want to live with one Sokolov, let alone a house full of them. They will no doubt look at me like I’m some interloper, the enemy who dared to keep Sofiya away from them.