Chapter 37: Mafia Prince’s Secret Baby: Chapter 36

“I’ll go with you,” Aleks hisses, refusing to leave me alone. “Dominik will wait for us in the car.”

Before I can think of a plausible excuse, Aleks is already halfway to the hospital’s entrance. His watchful eyes scan the perimeter—he doesn’t trust anyone, but especially not outside his circle. Not after everything that’s happened.

“You don’t need to babysit me,” I tell him, quickening my steps. “I just need to pick up Sofiya, and that’s it.”

“Great. We can pick her up together.” He adjusts his jacket to conceal the gun.

I start shaking my head when a phone starts ringing. Aleks stops and raises his brow.

“It’s Igor,” I tell him, reading the caller ID.

“Pick it up.”

Shifting away from him, I tap the phone. “Yeah?”

“Are you at the hospital yet?” Igor questions. “Is Aleks with you?”

“Just heading inside,” I mumble, then glance at my Russian shadow. “Yeah, he’s here.”

“Okay,” he replies, relief evident in his voice. “Listen, volchitsa, what I’m about to tell you is important.”

My footsteps freeze. “What is it?”

“We know who’s behind everything,” Igor starts explaining. “It’s Maksim Olenko.”

I take a few calming breaths, trying to keep the dizziness that’s threatening to wash over me in check. In the background, I can hear murmured voices, and I realize he’s most probably not alone, or doing this from his office.

“Yes,” he responds quietly. “I’m with Nikolai and Vasiliy⁠—”

“Vasiliy as in my brother Vasiliy?” I cut him off, throwing a wide-eyed stare at Aleks, who’s watching me expectantly. “He’s in New York?”

“He arrived this morning,” Igor confirms. “It pains me to admit it, but it was thanks to him that we made progress with all this shit. But that’s not the important thing I wanted to tell you.”

With the new information fresh on my mind, I try to focus on his voice instead. “Go on.”

“Listen, I need you to stay calm and not freak out, okay?” he pleads.

“Sure,” I mumble.

Nothing good can follow this. An avalanche of panic slowly grows in my belly.

“I don’t want to scare you, but I think the attackers could be after you. Not me,” he adds carefully. “Well, I guess both of us, but mostly you.”

The panic explodes at a dizzying pace. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” he says. “They’re targeting me directly or indirectly by going after people who’re close to me.”

“Right. People who mean something to you.”

There’s no doubt in my mind that being with Igor definitely signifies I’m a part of this madness. I’m now a target as much as he is.

“We could be wrong. This could all be connected to Nikolai and his past,” Igor continues. “The thing is, we won’t know it until we find the asshole and interrogate him. But until then, I need you to be safe. You and Sofiya. Don’t leave Aleks’s side. Ever. Promise me, Katya.”

A shiver slides through my body, every inch of my skin covered by goosebumps.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

“Alright.” Some noises drift through the receiver. “Can you hand the phone to my brother?”

“Sure,” I reply quickly, obeying his order without thinking. “Here.”

Aleks takes the device, exchanging his own words with Igor. While he talks, my whole world crumbles into pieces. The danger is more real than ever before.

I wait silently until Aleks returns my phone. His icy blue eyes scan me from top to bottom.

“Will you please get Sofiya so I can take both of you home?” His smooth voice wraps around me, reminding me of all the sacrifices and reassurances he’s provided up until now.

With a curt nod, I spin around to go down the familiar hallway. When we reach the bathroom, I pause.

“Wait. One second,” I say and lift a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

He rolls his shoulders. “I’m going in with you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No way in hell.”

He returns the stare, but I refuse to back down. At last, he sighs and nods. “Hurry, please,” he mutters reluctantly.

“Give a girl a minute.” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, and I squeeze Aleks’s wrist as though that alone will make him listen. “I’ll hurry.”

His eyes narrow, jaw ticking, but he nods in agreement. It’s not like he’s really giving me permission—it’s more like he’s calculating how far away he’ll let me get before he intervenes. I don’t wait to test his limits.

Inside the ladies room, the weight of everything crashes down on me. My legs feel like they’re made of lead as I shuffle to the sink and grip the porcelain so hard my knuckles ache. It’s the only thing keeping me upright.

I stare at my trembling hands, watching them as if they belong to someone else. My reflection in the mirror looks worse—pale, haunted, my eyes too wide and my pupils blown like I’ve already accepted defeat.

“Calm down, Katya,” I whisper harshly, my voice shaking as badly as my limbs. “Sofiya needs you. You have to be strong.”

I suck in a breath through my nose, willing myself to believe it, willing my mind to stop splintering under the pressure. A deep inhale. A slow exhale. One step at a time. It’s going to be fine.

But the lie cracks the second I open the door and step back into the hallway.

As I pass the men’s restroom, the door swings open, and before I can even process the movement, a hand clamps over my mouth, yanking me backward. The scent of sweat and leather fills my nose as a gruff voice hisses in my ear: “Quiet.”

Panic explodes in my chest, a wildfire racing through my veins. I struggle, kicking back against my assailant’s legs, but his grip is unyielding. His other hand clamps around my waist, pinning me tight to his chest as he drags me into the men’s room. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might shatter my ribs.

Through the crack in the door, I catch a glimpse of Aleks—still watching the hallway, his back turned to me.

He doesn’t see me.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the man growls, his voice low and filled with menace. His hand shifts to my neck, rough fingers wrapping around my throat like a steel collar. Another man materializes from behind me, grabbing my wrists and forcing my hands above my head.

“No more games, princess,” the first man purrs, his words as sharp as the edge of a blade.

I thrash wildly, refusing to go quietly. My heels scrape against the tiles as I kick and twist, desperate to free myself. My captors clearly weren’t expecting a fight. My foot connects with one man’s shin, and he curses, but they’re still stronger.

“Stop fighting,” the man holding my neck orders, his grip tightening. His free hand moves to the open bathroom window.

A third figure crouches on the other side of the window, masked and waiting. He stretches a gloved hand through the opening. “Give her to me,” he says, calm and composed.

“Don’t resist.” My captor brushes his mouth over my ear. “And not a sound. We know your daughter is just a few doors down. You want her to live, don’t you?”

The words hit like a bullet, slamming into me and leaving nothing but cold, hollow dread in their wake. I freeze.

The man behind me uses the hesitation to shove me forward. My knees scrape against the windowsill as the masked man grabs my arms, pulling me roughly through the opening. My scream dies in my throat as he twists my wrist hard enough to make pain shoot up my arm.

The first man climbs out behind me, landing in the dark alley where a white van idles, engine rumbling. Its windows are blacked out, the whole vehicle a faceless threat.

“Move,” the man barks, shoving me forward. His hand clamps on my shoulder, steering me toward the van.

I dig my heels into the gravel, dragging my feet. Anything to slow them down. But the sharp poke of a knife at my ribs leaves me no choice. My heart races as I stumble closer to the vehicle, each step feeling like one more nail in my coffin.

My mind churns, frantic questions bombarding me. What do they want with me? Is this about revenge? Leverage? Are they going to hurt Sofiya?

Fear grips me so tightly I can barely breathe. A cold sweat breaks across my skin, but I force myself to focus. I can’t panic. Not when I still have a sliver of freedom, a chance to fight back.

The van’s back doors swing open. “Get in,” one of them barks.

When I hesitate, the man shoves me hard enough to send me stumbling forward. My knees slam against the metal floor, pain jolting up my legs.

“Stay down,” he orders, climbing in after me. The other man moves to the driver’s seat, slamming the door and revving the engine.

I curl into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. Something cold presses against the side of my head. A gun.

“Don’t move,” the man snarls.

Before I can react, a cloth is forced over my face, smothering me. The sharp, chemical scent of chloroform fills my nose, clawing its way into my brain. My limbs grow heavy, and my vision blurs as the darkness creeps in.

The last thing I feel is the cold, hard metal of the van’s floor against my cheek before the world disappears.