THE MAFIA LORD'S LOST HEIR

Aliana slept in Adrian’s arms, but her small body was shaking. Her skin felt too hot against his chest. Her breaths were fast and uneven. Adrian’s jaw tightened as he touched her forehead. It burned under his palm.

“Mikhail,” he said quietly. “Call the doctor. Now.”

Mikhail, who had been standing near the door, turned fast. “What happened?”

“She’s shivering and burning,” Adrian said. “Move.”

Mikhail nodded and rushed out.

Adrian held Aliana tighter. She curled into him unconsciously, as if searching for warmth. Her fingers clung weakly to his shirt. Adrian looked down at her small hand. He had never held a child like this. He had never been responsible for someone this small. But right now, none of that mattered.

She was his.

And she was in pain.

A doctor hurried in with Mikhail. Adrian stood up with Aliana still in his arms.

“Her temperature is too high,” the doctor said. “She needs a room. A bed. We will start treatment there.”

“Find a room with two beds,” Adrian ordered.

The doctor blinked. “Sir, children have a separate ward. We”

Adrian cut him a look so sharp the doctor stopped breathing for a second.

“She stays with me,” Adrian said. “Two beds. My woman and my daughter will not be separated.”

Mikhail raised his hands quickly. “I will handle it,” he said, stepping in before the doctor made another mistake. “I’ll find a room.”

He ran out again.

Minutes later he returned with a nurse beside him. She walked toward Adrian with her arms out, ready to carry Aliana.

“I’ll take her now,” the nurse said gently.

Adrian did not move. He only stared at her. His eyes were cold and dark.

“You should listen before you touch her,” he said softly, too softly. “She is my daughter. If anything happens to her, your life alone won’t pay the price.”

The nurse froze.

“I will find your whole bloodline,” Adrian added. “Eight generations. Do you understand?”

The nurse swallowed so hard her throat shook. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Only then did he allow her to take Aliana from his arms. But even as she did, Adrian’s gaze followed every move she made.

Mikhail stood beside him. “The room is ready,” he said.

Adrian nodded once. Then he turned to him. “Turn my office at home into a child’s room. Pink. I heard kids like pink. Make sure it is ready before we leave this place.”

Mikhail tried not to smile. “Understood.”

“You will also prepare a room for both of them. One room for Klara. One room for the girl. But connected.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“And make the announcement.”

Mikhail paused. “The announcement?”

Adrian looked at him. “Yes. Tell everyone that Klara Volkov is back. Tell them my wife is alive.”

Mikhail nodded slowly.

“But,” Adrian added, “you will not release any picture of Aliana. Not yet. No one sees her face.”

Mikhail understood then. Adrian wanted the world to know Klara was under his protection. He wanted the attackers to hear it and come if they dared. But he wanted Aliana hidden. Safe.

“And this hospital,” Adrian continued, “should be filled with our men. Every space. Every hallway. No one walks in or out without my permission.”

Mikhail bowed his head. “I’ll handle it.” He left quickly.

The moment he stepped out, Adrian’s men walked in one by one, filling the hallways, the doors, the stairs. The nurses stared. Doctors froze.

No one questioned it.

No one dared.

Within an hour, the public announcement spread.

Klara Volkov, the lost wife of Adrian Volkov, had returned.

And she was under his protection.

Adrian sat in the private room the hospital prepared. Aliana was in one bed, small and pale, getting medicine for her fever. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing soft. She was exhausted from shock and crying.

Klara was brought in next. Still unconscious. Machines were attached to her arm. Her skin was too pale. Her hair was damp from the rain.

Adrian stood between both beds for a long time before slowly lowering himself into the chair placed between them. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t rest. He only watched them, first one, then the other.

His wife.

His daughter.

Both almost taken from him.

Both back in his reach.

Hours passed.

Klara finally stirred.

But she wasn’t awake yet.

She was drifting in a memory, in the past.

She opened her apartment door after work, tired and ready to shower. But when she stepped into her room, she froze.

Adrian was there.

Sitting on her bed.

Holding her diary.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice sharp.

He smirked. “Reading.”

“That’s private,” she snapped. “Give it back.”

She moved toward him, reaching for the diary.

He lifted it higher.

She tried again.

He raised it more.

Her face brushed against his.

Their lips touched in the smallest accidental kiss.

Klara jerked back, face red. “Stop playing with me.”

“Why are you avoiding me?” Adrian asked.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she muttered, “I just, you can’t want me because of a one-night mistake.”

Adrian leaned closer. “Then let’s make it two nights.”

“Be serious,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He stared at her then. Really stared. His eyes were cold and focused.

“Listen,” he said. “I’ve slept with many women. I’m not marrying you because of your body.”

Klara swallowed.

“I’m marrying you because I love you,” he said. “And that’s the last time I will ever say it.”

Her breath caught. “You can’t love someone in just one night” She muttered.

But Adrian, he didn’t say anything, he just smiled and she smiled a little, her heart suddenly warm

Klara’s eyes fluttered open.

The dream slipped away.

And she saw Adrian sitting beside her, watching her.

She blinked, confused at first. Then pain hit her stomach, and she winced.

“You’re awake,” Adrian said quietly.

Klara breathed in slowly. “Thank you for helping me.”

Adrian didn’t smile. “It comes with terms.”

He picked up a paper from the table and placed it in her hand.

Klara frowned. “What is this?”

“A contract,” Adrian said. “Sign it.”

She looked at him, confused and tired. “Why?”

“It means you are bound to me,” he said. “You will not run again. You will never leave. You will stay where I can find you. If you don’t sign it, you will not see Aliana.”

Her breath stopped. “Adrian, she is your daughter”

“You used me,” he said coldly. “You ran and hid her from me for five years. You lkep t her away. How do I interact when I missed five birthdays”

“It’s four, she is turning five in a month” Klara whispered, her voice choked. “It doesn’t change what you did Klara”

“I had no choice,” Klara choked, “Back then”

“There is no ‘back then’,” he cut in sharply. “There is only now.”

Klara’s hands trembled around the paper.

Adrian leaned closer, his face hard and unreadable.

“You sign it,” he said, “or you don’t see her again.”

The ultimatum hung between them, heavy and cruel.

And there was no escape. She was back to the very cage she once ran away from.