Page 19 of Mafia Daddy

I bite back the sarcastic retort that wants to fly out and just nod instead. No point pushing too hard right now. “Fine.”

Maxim studies me for a second longer, like he’s trying to read every thought behind my eyes, then drains the last of his coffee. “Yuri is trustworthy. Behave yourself.”

The second he leaves the kitchen I let out a long breath. Frustration simmers in my chest, but I push it down and focus on the new angle…

Yuri. Nephew. Almost certainly younger, maybe close to my age.

If I play this right—turn on the charm, act a little helpless, drop a few strategic smiles—I might get him to slip me a phone, or at least pass a message to Charles.

Or find out more about how Maxim operates.

At this stage I’ll take any intel I can get. This isn’t going to be a long term problem for me. One night here has told me that. I’m not cut out for this life. Maybe my mother was happy to be a pawn in the bigger game, but that’s not me.

I finish my coffee, already turning over possibilities in my head. Maxim thinks he’s in control. He has no idea how good I am at getting what I want when I set my mind to it.

Even from inside this beautiful cage.

I head back toward my room to make myself look a little more presentable before Yuri arrives. Whoever he is, I know he won’t see my moves coming. I’m too smart. And I know that my status as a college dropout makes people underestimate me too. Yuri won’t know what hit him by the time I’m through twisting him around my little finger.

I quickly brush out my hair, swipe on some mascara, and change into a cropped hoodie and soft lounge shorts that show just enough leg. Not obvious, but enough to look approachable. Harmless. Relatable.

Later that morning I hear the low murmur of voices from the front door. I step out of my room just as Maxim opens the apartment and in walks Yuri…

Yuri twenty-one, fresh-faced, with messy dark hair and bright, curious eyes. He’s wearing acid-wash jeans and a fitted red t-shirt that shows off a surprisingly lean, dancer’s build. No tattoos visible, no hard edges, no Bratva swagger.

Honestly, Yuri looks more like he belongs at a Little meet-up than in Maxim’s world. My lips curve into a genuine smile before I can stop it. This is going to be much easier than I hoped.

“Yuri,” Maxim says, clapping a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “this is Milo. He’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future. We hope very much that he will be a permanent fixture in the Kovalev family. Make sure he has everything he needs.”

Yuri shifts the stack of packages in his arms and flashes me a warm, easy grin. “Nice to meet you, Milo.”

Maxim explains, “Yuri is a professional dancer and musical theater actor. One of the best in the city. He’s also family, so you can trust him. Isn’t that right, Yuri?”

“You got it, Uncle Maxim,” Yuri replies, smiling openly.

I widen my eyes and let my voice go bright and bubbly. “Musical theater? That’s so cool! I used to love going to shows before… well, everything.” I step forward and give Yuri an enthusiastic little hug around all the bags, making sure to press just enough. “I’m really glad you’re here. This place is gorgeous but kind of… quiet.”

Maxim watches the exchange with that unreadable expression of his, then checks his watch. “I have business downtown. I’ll be back late afternoon. Behave.” His eyes linger on me a second longer than necessary—half warning, half something hotter—before he nods once at Yuri and leaves.

The door clicks shut.

Now it’s just the two of us.

Yuri sets the packages down on the massive coffee table and rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish.

“So… first day, huh?” Yuri asks, knowing full well the answer. “Look, I know Maxim can seem pretty intense, but he’s not as scary as people make him out to be. The family runs smooth under him. No unnecessary drama. You’ll be okay.”

I drop onto the couch and tuck my legs underneath me, giving him my best I’m totally fine with all of this smile. “Yeah, I’m adjusting. It’s a lot, but everyone keeps telling me it’s for the best.” I tilt my head toward the pile of bags. “So what did you bring me? I’m dying of boredom already.”

Yuri’s face lights up like I just handed him a spotlight. He starts unpacking with genuine excitement, clearly proud of his choices…

First come two big board games—Ticket to Ride and a deluxe edition of Catan. Then a stack of video games for the massive TV in the living room.

Next, a ridiculous assortment of sweet treats: gourmet chocolate, sour gummies, fancy Italian cookies, and even a couple of those fancy European snack boxes.

Finally, Yuri pulls out a professional-grade karaoke machine with two wireless mics, a mixing board, and a bunch of cables.

I clap my hands together. “Oh my God, this calls for karaoke! Right now. Please tell me you know all the show tunes?”