Page 38 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

My grip on Sofiya’s hand tightens as I think about it. I don’t need their judgment. I don’t need their stares or their thinly veiled accusations. But most of all, I don’t need their hatred. Because it’s coming—I can already feel it.

This is going to be hell.

Fucking perfect.

By the time we pull up to the massive gates of the Sokolov estate, my dread has turned into a lead weight in my stomach. The gates open slowly, revealing a sprawling mansion that feels more like a fortress. Tall, imposing, and cold. Just like the family who lives here.

As the car comes to a stop, Sofiya sits up straighter, her wide eyes taking in the house. Damien is already unbuckling his seatbelt, eager to explore.

“Stay close to me,”I sign to Sofiya, brushing a hand over her hair.

Igor kills the engine and steps out first, barking orders at one of the men who comes to greet us. Aleks climbs out more casually, grabbing some of the bags from the trunk before turning to offer Sofiya a reassuring smile.

“It’s big, huh?”he signs, gesturing to the house.

Sofiya nods, her gaze bouncing between him and the mansion.

“Don’t worry,”Aleks adds.“You’ll like it here.”

I don’t know if he’s saying it for her benefit or mine, but I don’t respond. Instead, I step out of the car, holding Sofiya’s hand tightly. Damien rushes ahead, too excited to wait, and Aleks follows with an armful of bags.

Igor steps beside me, his presence unwelcome but impossible to ignore.

“Try to keep your temper in check,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I whip my head toward him, glaring. “Try to keepyouregoin check,” I hiss back.

For a moment, he looks like he’s going to snap, but then he exhales sharply and walks away, his long strides eating up the distance to the house.

13

IGOR

My parents are waiting for us when we arrive, seated in their grand, ice-cold living room like royalty holding court. The sight is as predictable as it is infuriating. Father sits in his throne-like armchair, stiff-backed and commanding, while my mother perches on the edge of the couch, quiet and beautiful, like a painting meant to be admired but never touched.

With everything else that’s been going on, I realize I forgot to tell them about Sofiya—about the fact that they have another granddaughter. My gaze slides to Aleks, silently hoping he’d handled it. He catches my look, smirks, and shakes his head.

He didn’t.

“What’s the meaning of this?” my father demands, his deep voice cutting through the room. His sharp eyes flick toward Katya, narrowing in a way he reserves for people he considers beneath him—which is nearly everyone. “We’re a respectable family, and as such, we won’t be housing your whores and their spawns.”

His words strike like a slap, and the room suddenly feels suffocating.

“Watch your mouth,” I warn him, my voice low but laced with venom.

“Careful, boy,” he snaps back, leaning forward, his gaze colder than Siberian ice. “I’m not just your father. I’m yourpakhan. You’ll do well to remember that before you step out of line.”

“Respect?” I echo, a humorless laugh spilling from my throat. “You wantrespect? You’ve been nothing but a pathetic drunk lately, hiding behind the men who still fight for you.”

The room plunges into silence. My mother stiffens, but she doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t during moments like these. Aleks shifts his weight, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, but his gaze sharpens.

Finally, my father speaks, his voice cutting and calm—too calm. “Since you think you know everything, son, why don’t you explain to me why I should tolerate a mongrel and her dirty child in my house?”

His words twist something in my chest. I don’t know what burns more—the insult itself or the knowledge that my mother’s disapproving gaze is locked on me, not him. My jaw tightens as I fight to rein in my temper.

“Fuck you,” I snarl before I can stop myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Katya’s icy glare, her anger barely contained. She looks ready to burst, and I don’t know if she’s pissed at my father or at me for stooping to his level. Probably both.