Page 59 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

The mask slides back into place.

“Back to work,” he says, voice clipped.

Dismissed.

I turn and leave, legs trembling beneath the weight of everything unsaid. He won’t talk about the baby today. Maybe not ever. And maybe that’s for the best. But someday, he’ll have to face it.

And when he does, I just hope I’ve already found the way out.

Chapter 18

Mine to Protect, Mine to Destroy

Vasiliyi

The security feeds bleed violence.

Grainy footage flickers across the screens, each frame a warning. Six of Vladimir’s men linger in the shadows across the street—rotating shifts, with visible weapons and unblinking eyes. They’re not hiding anymore. This isn’t surveillance. It’s a fucking declaration.

“How long have they been there?” I ask.

Raffe stands at attention, posture rigid as steel. “Since dawn. Numbers are growing.”

He scrubs a hand over his buzzed head, tension radiating from every line of his body. The man’s ex-military. Unshakable. But even he feels the temperature rising.

“They’re watching for movement. Waiting for a mistake.” But there’ve been mistakes already. Missed check-ins. Cameras that didn’t log. Routes changed without my say. I let it slide because we’ve been stretched thin. But now? It feels like rot under the skin.

My fingers twitch with the urge to hit something. Hard. Vladimir doesn’t move slow unless he’s planning something biblical. This isn’t intimidation—it’s strategy. Pressure. And it’s working.

Not on me.

On her.

Galina.

The thought of Vladimir’s men watching her—huntingher—makes something feral tear loose inside me. I’ve kept my distance for a week because one touch would undo me. One second in her presence, and I’d lose the last piece of control I have left.

There’s more at stake now.

A child.

My child.

The words still burn like vodka down my throat—sharp, dangerous, unfiltered. I haven’t said it out loud. Haven’t dared to name it. Because if I do…I’ll have to reckon with the kind of man I am. The kind of father I’ll never be.

“Is the product secure?” I ask, voice rough.

“We’re nearly ready for the police arrival,” Raffe confirms. “Clients are happy with the private suite upgrade. Staff’s been briefed. Everyone’s moving.”

Of course they’re happy. That was Galina’s idea—her razor-sharp mind slicing through the chaos like it was nothing. She saw angles I didn’t. Solutions I’d never consider.

She grounds me. Anchors me to something that feels almost real. Almost clean.

And that terrifies me more than Vladimir’s army ever could.

Because monsters like me, we don’t get legacies. We don’t deserve them.

A knock drags me back from the spiral.

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